The Giggling Granny: Poison, Pie, and a Perfect Smile

In this episode of GBRLIFE Of Crimes, we lift the curtain on one of the most chilling and unexpectedly cheerful serial killers in American history—Nannie Doss, better known as The Giggling Granny. With her floral dresses, sweet southern charm, and an ever-present laugh, she didn’t look like a murderer. But behind the smile was a trail of poisoned coffee cups, dead husbands, and a disturbing desire for something more… satisfying.

How does a woman so seemingly kind become one of America’s most notorious killers?

Join me as we explore:

• The disturbing childhood and trauma that shaped Nannie’s view of love and life.
• How romantic fantasies and abuse blurred into lethal intent.
• The psychology behind her compulsive need to control, eliminate, and laugh her way through each death.
• Whether Nannie Doss was a cold-blooded killer… or a tragic symbol of suppressed rage in a patriarchal society.

With every death, she sent flowers. With every lie, she baked a pie. This is not just a story of murder—it’s a story of femininity twisted, of laughter turned lethal, and of what happens when the mask never slips… because the mask is the face.

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Chapters

• 0:00 The Giggling Granny
• 0:42 The Dark Side of Femininity
• 2:46 The Early Years of Nanny Doss
• 3:51 Love Letters and Lethal Intent
• 5:08 The Minister Who Knew Too Much
• 5:55 Arrest and Confession
• 7:02 The Giggling Killer in the Media
• 8:02 The Complexity of Femininity
• 8:42 Reflections on Nanny Doss

Transcript

0:00

The coffee pot gurgles. A pie cools on the windowsill. The porch is swept. The cushions fluffed. Everything is neat, pleasant, homey. And in the kitchen stands a woman. Her hair is curled, her glasses fogged with steam, and she hums softly, stirring something into a mug. Her voice is light. Her smile is warm. The coffee she's offering is laced with arsenic. And before the sun rises, the man sitting across her will be dead. And she'll be smiling. That woman is Nannie Doss. And her laugh was never real. Welcome to GBRLIFE Transmissions. I'm your host, Kaitlyn, and you're listening to GBRLIFE of Crimes, where we explore not just what happened in crimes committed by women, but why they happened and the psychology behind them. Today, we're digging beneath the floral dresses and giggles to expose something colder than cruelty. Because Nannie Doss didn't kill for money. She didn't kill in desperation. She killed because she wanted to. And she used the world's expectation of motherhood and womanhood to get away with it again and again. Nannie Doss was born on November 4th, 1905 to Lou and James Hazel in Blue Mountain, Alabama. She was one of five with one brother and three sisters. But Nannie's story really started with a train. Seven-year-old Nancy Hazel, later known as Nannie, was riding with her family through Alabama when the train jolted forward violently, throwing her head into a metal bar. She was knocked out cold, and when she woke up, she wasn't quite the same. She began suffering from migraines, blackouts, sudden mood shifts. But more than that, something internal had shifted. Psychologists now understand the role early childhood traumatic brain injuries can play in the development of psychopathy, particularly when it affects the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for impulse control, empathy, and understanding right from wrong. This wasn't just a bump on the head. This was the beginning of a neurological fracture, and Nannie's environment only deepened it. Her father was controlling, emotionally absent, and deeply misogynistic. He forbade education, refused fun, and he worked his daughters like laborers in the field. Nannie wasn't allowed to be a child. She wasn't allowed to express emotion, question orders, or even groom herself. So what did she do? She smiled. She obeyed. She learned to survive. But inside, she was studying people. Learning what made them trust her and tucked away every injustice like pins in a doll. At 16, she married her first husband. Charlie Braggs, a man she met while working in a linen factory, and they had four daughters, but only two survived. The official cause of death for the other two was food poisoning. See, Charlie believed it, but then he didn't, especially when the second child seemed to just die from food poisoning. So he fled with the only daughter he could take and told others that he feared for his life. Nannie, she moved on. She started writing to men in Lonely Hearts columns. Pretending to be a sweet romantic widow looking for companionship. These weren't love letters. They were traps. One by one, husbands arrived. One by one, husbands died. Her second husband, Frank Harrelson, was an alcoholic. They were married for 16 years. He died after Nannie laced his corn whiskey with rat poison. And she stayed just long enough to collect sympathy and then vanished. Her third husband, Arlie Lanning, died of what locals believed was heart failure. Their house burned down mysteriously right after, and Nannie collected the insurance payout. His mother died not long after, under Nannie's care. Then came her fourth husband, Richard Morton. He only made it a few months. And he died from poisoned coffee, right after Nannie's own mother came to live with them. Oh yeah, she mysteriously died too. And then came Samuel Doss, the man who unraveled her whole web. Samuel Doss was a quiet, dricked, Nazarene minister. He didn't approve of romance novels. He believed in order, simplicity, clean living. Nannie found him dull. She slipped arsenic into his pie and coffee. He was hospitalized and he survived.

Speaker0: 5:36

So, she tried again. And then that time, he died. But the doctor was suspicious. He had just recovered. There was no medical explanation for his sudden collapse. So, they ordered an autopsy. The results? Well, his organs were saturated with arsenic. And Nannie Doss was arrested in October of 1954. And the moment the handcuffs went on, she laughed. In the interrogation room, Nannie didn't beg, she didn't cry, she giggled. She flirted with the officers and then she said, I was just looking for love. They just didn't treat me right. She confessed to 11 homicides, including four husbands, two daughters, two grandsons, her mother, her sister, and one of her mother-in-laws. But investigators believe the number may have been higher because she never once showed remorse. She talked about their deaths the way most people talk about grocery shopping. One detective said it was like chatting with your aunt at the kitchen table except she's describing how she poisoned her family. In 1955, Nannie pled guilty to just one count of murder, Samuel Doss, and she was sentenced to life in prison. She was never tried for the others. Why? Because she was a woman. She was a grandmother. People couldn't wrap their heads around a woman like her being a cold-blooded killer. The media called her the giggling granny. They treated her like a dark joke, but there was nothing funny about what she did. Modern criminal psychologists agree Nannie Doss was a classic textbook female psychopath. She showed no empathy, high emotional manipulation. Calculated killing over time, and a complete lack of remorse. But what made her so dangerous was that she used society's view of femininity as her camouflage. Because when women smile, we're considered safe. When we laugh, we're considered sweet. When we cry, we're considered delicate. But Nannie, she wasn't sweet. She wasn't delicate. She was strategic. She knew the mask. She wore it better. than anyone. And behind that giggle, there was nothing at all. Nannie Doss died in prison in 1965 from leukemia. She was 59, still smiling. The most terrifying thing about Nannie Doss wasn't how many people she killed. It wasn't how long she got away with it because no one believed a woman could be that evil. It's a reminder. Smiles are not proof of kindness. Softness is not proof of safety. And women are not just warm bodies meant to nurture. We are complex, we are capable, and sometimes we are dangerous. This has been GBRLIFE of Crimes, part of GBRLIFE Transmissions. I'm Kaitlyn reminding you that understanding the darkness helps us appreciate the light. Join me next time as we uncover another case that challenges everything we thought we knew about the criminal mind.