From Airship, the studio behind American Scandal, American History Tellers, and History Daily, comes a new true crime history podcast that takes you inside the minds of some of our most notorious felons and outlaws, exploring the dark side to the American dream. The debut season tackles one of the country’s most sensational cases: The Menendez Murders. In 1989, Lyle and Erik Menendez brutally shot their parents. Prosecutors said it was a million dollar inheritance that led two greedy kids to murder. But the picture-perfect facade this family built hid troubling abuse; could these teenagers have been driven to kill, or was it even in self defense?
Hey there, I want to introduce you to a new true crime history podcast from the studio behind hits like American Scandal and American History Tellers from our Good Friends, said Lindsey Graham's airship. This one is hosted by Jeremy Schwartz. Each episode comes to you weekly and explores the dark side of the American dream, the notorious felons and outlaws who try to lie, cheat, and murder their way to the top. You get inside the minds of the criminals and their victims and learn about the historical context behind the crimes. Season one is going to cover one of the most sensational cases of the twentieth century, the Menendez brothers. In nineteen eighty nine, young Lyle and Eric Menendez brutally shot their own parents. Prosecutors in the press said it was a multimillion dollar inheritance that led to greedy, rich kids to murder, But the picture perfect facade this Hollywood family built hid troubling abuse. Could these teenagers have been driven to kill or was it even self defense? Other seasons will cover Al Capone, the notorious mob boss who was nabbed by the irs, Georgia Tan, the thief who stole babies and ruined countless lives. Sam Bankman Fried the crypto king who siphoned off billions in the name of saving the world. Mark Hoffman, the counterfeiter and forger who tried to cover his tracks with a string of bombings, Manson, Madeoff, Menendez, Milkin, Gillan, Maxwell. And that's just the ems, plus many more, spanning every era of American history in every category of criminal. So I'm about to play you a clip from episode one, which is out now. To hear the full episode, go on over to a American Criminal wherever you get your podcasts. I think you're going to love this one.
It's August twentieth, nineteen eighty nine, a cool, quiet evening in Beverly Hills, a city for the rich and famous. It's an insular, privileged community. The houses are mansions, the streets are luxuriously wide, and the lawns remain lush and verdant even in a drought. But as the saying goes, all that glitters is not gold. At seven twenty two Northelm Drive, a nine thousand square foot Mediterranean style home with green palms and monsterras sits behind a black wrought iron gate. Inside the house, Jose and Kitty Menendez are relaxing. It's a Sunday night, and the couple are in the living The flickering light of the television bounces off the wood Peny family photos dot the walls, posed portraits of Jose and Kitty with their two sons, twenty one year old Lyle and eighteen year old Eric, all bright smiles, perfect teeth, perfect hair, the perfect family. Those two sons aren't in the room for this family night, though not yet. Just before ten pm, the living room's double doors burst open. Lyle and Eric are bull holding twelve gate shotguns. Without saying the word, the brothers raise their weapons and start firing immediately. Jose gets to his feet and shouts something at his son's a protest or a plea for mercy, but they're not listening. The brothers unload yell after shell into their own parents. It feels like ours, but is actually closer to seconds. The brothers are out of ammunition and rush from the darkened room. Jose's lifeless body is slumped on the couch, chunks of his flesh ripped away by buckshot, but on the ground. Forty seven year old Kitty is still moving, pained moans emanating from her bloody form. Kitty's eyes swim upwards as she sees her oldest son step back into the room with a reloaded shotgun on his side. Lyle holds the muzzle against her face. He closes his eyes afterwards. It's eerily quiet in the house. It's only been a few minutes since the brothers burst in, but the room is transformed. Blood splatters the walls, soaks the couch, and stains the gold rug and parquet floor. The peppery smell of gun smoke hangs in the air. Lyle retreats from the wreckage. He heads down the hallway and out of the house. His younger brother, Eric waits by the car, a stricken look in his eyes. Lyle scans the neighborhood, half expecting to hear the sound of sirens or to see the flash of red and blue lights. But there's nothing. No one's emerged to ask about the shotgun blasts that just echoed through the street. No one's called the police about the screams coming from number seven twenty two. No one knows that Jose and Kitty Menendez are dead, or that their picture perfect sons are the ones who murdered them from airship. I'm Jeremy Schwartz, and this is American criminal. In the early nineteen nineties, Los Angeles saw a run of trials that kept the entire country glued to their television screens. First, Rodney King was brutally beaten by four LAPD officers. The assault was caught on videotape, but it recorded more than just a violent beating. The footage shone a light on the systemic racism which seemed to exist in the Los Angeles police force. When those cops were acquitted of any wrongdoing, deadly days long riots shook the city. A few years later, former nflay O J. Simpson, one of the most famous men in America, was acquitted for the murders of his ex wife, Nicole Brown Simpson and her friend Ronald Goldman. That case and the media storm it stirred up raised questions about celebrity and how it might enable or excuse criminal actions. But between those two historic trials, the story of the Menendez family captured the nation's attention in an entirely different way. On the surface, it's a simple, if disturbing tale. In nineteen eighty nine brothers, Lyle and Eric Menendez, killed their parents and tried to get away with it. When the matter finally made it to trial in the nineties, there was no question about who did what. The facts of the case were not in question. What was up for debate was the motivation for the bloody crime. As the courtroom drama unfolded live on television, everything that people thought they knew about the Menendez family shifted. In the end, the trial of Lyle and Eric Menendez came down to not just what crime was done, but why and whether one stomach churning crime excuses another. Some three decades later, the Menendez story isn't any simpler. Out of this family of four, there were two monsters to play, but just who those were isn't a simple question to answer. Lyle and Eric picked up the shotguns of their own accord, but maybe over years of abuse, it was jose and Kitty who drove them to pull the triggers. This is episode one of a four part series on the Menendez brothers, The Five Year Plan. It's July of nineteen forty four in the tiny village of Oak Lawn, just outside of Chicago, in a stucco bungalow with a manicured lawn and tidy hedges. The Anderson family is about to fracture forever. Patriarch Andy has just derived home from work to find an empty dinner table, kids scattered, and his wife fussing about in the kitchen. Andy has a skewed perspective on what marriage and fatherhood should look like, and tonight it gets it worked up into a rage. He's had enough of his wife's backtalk of playing the role of father to children who don't respect him, not in the way he feels he deserves. Reading the warning signs, his wife tries to placate him, bringing him a cool beer and promising that dinner won't be long, but the gesture only frustrates Andy even more. He throws the can onto the floor, where it splits apart, fizzing over the linoleum. Then he storms from the kitchen, through the living room and into his bedroom. He's watched by his young daughter, who's playing on the rug. A few minutes pass, and then the toddler sees her father march out of the house with a suitcase under his arm. He doesn't even look at her, just slams the door on his way out. Mary Louise or Kitty isn't quite three. She has no idea that her father won't be coming home again. She doesn't understand that in this moment her life is changing. All she knows is that her mother is sobbing at the kitchen table. A born performer, Kitty just wants her mommy to stop crying. So in the sudden stillness after Andy disappears, the toddler dances and twirls clumsily about the house, hoping to make her mother smile, but it doesn't work. As she gets older, Kitty will hear stories about their family, about what happened when she was just a baby. She'll learn that her father was abusive for years, but that won't stand out in her mind so much. The memory of what he did will fade, but her mother's actions will stay seared in Kitty's mind, and she'll wonder if her mom had been the problem. Had she let her husband slip away? Was that why Kitty's happy childhood was ripped apart? Was it her mother's fault that Kitty grew up in what people called a broken home? These questions solidify into a distorted cautionary tale. Kitty carries with her for the rest of her life. She will not repeat the sins of her mother. She won't watch another marriage implode, no matter what