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Nikki
Hi, my name is Nikki. I'm the daughter of a murdered woman and welcome back to Poppy Killed Mommy. I've recorded these bonus episodes letters for my mom's friends so we could both meet her and get to know the woman I never got the chance to. She was taken from me when I was 10 and outside of being my mom, I don't actually know who she was to the people who loved her most. These letters bring her back to life for you and for me, and they also share parts of her story I couldn't fit into episode one, which drops July 8 at 11pm the the exact moment I said goodnight to her for the last time just a few weeks ago. I'd never touched a mixing board, never opened editing software. I could barely use a computer. My skills were pretty much limited to my iPhone and TikTok, where more than 200,000 of you already helped me keep my mother's name alive. But I knew I had to get louder. So I built a little studio in my house, wrote these episodes and started speaking. It's been overwhelming, it's been triggering and honestly, it's the hardest thing I've ever done and I want to be upfront with you. I'm new at this, I am not a professional podcaster and the audio might sound rough around the edges, but I'm learning as I go and I promise I'll get better with each episode. This bonus episode features a letter from Cheryl Mendel, one of my mom's closest friends. Back in the summer of 76 when my mom was sent away under circumstances I'm still trying to uncover, Cheryl knew her as a 16 year old who cracked loud jokes, loved hard, and somehow kept shining despite the challenges she was facing at that time in her life. So settle in for a few minutes and go back to the past with me and learn who my mom was through Cheryl's eyes. It was the summer of 1976 when I first met Stacey Wassolichen. I was spending time with friends in the middle of Downers Grove, Illinois. We called it the Hood. We would gather at the neighborhood church to party quite often and one day Joe showed up with a cousin we'd never seen before. He introduced us to Stacy from Phoenix, Arizona. At first Stacey was calling folks mutley and being rather loud about it. Stacey lived with her cousins. I did not know much about them, but I met and attended junior high with Joe back in 1974 and I knew his mother, Lily, was the sister of Stacey's mom, Bea. Stacey had nicknames for her aunt and her uncle. Quite often she would refer to them as Aunt Lily Pad and Uncle Baby. I never knew why Stacey was sent to her aunt and uncle in Downers Grove, Illinois. I overheard someone saying that she was there because she wasn't getting along with her family in Arizona at that time. At 15 years old, I accepted that answer, and I just never questioned it. Before Stacy could go out for the evening, she would always say, cheryl, baby, I can't go out until I pick the weeds. That was her weekly chore. Stacy settled into the hood and all became instant friends. Some of those friends included Cheryl, Marty, Jerry, Missy, Edie, and Debbie, among others. It was a big group, and we spent every day together during school, after school, and on weekends. One day Stacy says to me, hey, Cheryl baby, check this out. Then lit up a joint and fried it in one hit. And of course, the boys came calling. Stacy was a beautiful girl with a big personality, a big heart, and a kind and gentle soul. Stacy attended Downers Grove High School with us, where Marty and I had English class together. Mr. Toller was our teacher. He wore pants with a bit of flair, a hairpiece, gold wire frame glasses, and turtlenecks under his 70s smock tops. The class figured out that he was drunk pretty much daily. From time to time, Stacy would appear at the door of our classroom, peeking through the glass panel, trying to get our attention. One day, Mr. Toller saw her, stopped class, charged towards the door and scolded her down the hall. I could hear her saying, Mr. Toller, baby, calm down, calm down. It was hilarious. Marty, Missy, Stacey and I were all in ceramics together. The four of us shared a table. Stacey and Missy had artistry, whereas Marty and I, not so much. So Stacy and Missy made all of our pots for us. By the final exam, the teacher decided to split us up at separate tables. No further explanation needed. In 1977, Stacey, her cousin Joe, and his brother Harry went to the Rolling Stones concert at Soldier Field. It was their Hot Lips tour with Jeff Beck opening. Another no further explanation statement needed. Stacy was only in Downers Grove for approximately one year. But before I dropped Stacy off at the airport to go back to Phoenix, she asked me to visit her. Not long after she left, I was on the next plane. I was so excited. There I met her mother Bea, her brother Lance, her sister Wendy, and her closest friend, Lori Swift. During my visit, we went to the Kansas concert at the Coliseum, 8th row center, floated down the river and hit the mall. Hey, don't judge. It was the 70s. At the end of my stay Stacy asked me to stay another week and so I did. The party continued at 2917 West Windrows. That address has been a staple in my memory ever since. Years later, Stacy contacted me to let me know that she was going to visit Aunt Lily Pad and Uncle Baby and she was bringing her daughter Nicole to meet them. Nikki was only five years old at the time and they were only in Illinois for a weekend. Over the years it was always great to receive family photos and look forward to Stacy's handwritten updates on the back of each one. In 1985 I relocated to Florida and stayed there until June of 93. During that time I would get random late night calls from Stacy and it would remind me of our childhood all over again. And even through a phone line our connection was real. When I returned to the Midwest, I was living with my mom. One day my mom said there was a phone call for me. It was Wendy. She was calling to break the news of Stacy's passing. She had found my mother's number and took a chance to call. Even though I knew Stacy for only a brief period, I found her to be full of passion and she loved very hard. Her sassy personality and her humor were contagious and it was all part of her charm. I know we'd still be great friends today and in my heart I always will be her friend. Love always, Cheryl Mandel if Cheryl's letter made you smile or cry or feel like you knew my mom even just for a moment, then I hope you'll stay with me. Because this is only a glimpse. The full Story My mom's story deserves to be told out loud and in full. Poppy killed mommy premieres July 8th at 11pm the exact moment 32 years earlier when I kissed my mom goodnight for the last time. Every week after that, I'll take you deeper into the truth, the trauma and the fight for justice that's still unfolding more than three decades later. Your support, your subscription, your follow, your share it means the world. It helps bring light to a case that was left in the dark for far too long. So please subscribe now, follow the show and meet me back here on July 9th and join me next week for the final bonus episode. A deeply personal letter written by me to my mother. Thank you for listening.