I want you to close your eyes for a second, unless
you're driving, of course, and just pull up a
specific image. It's an image that I guarantee
is burned into the collective hard drive of pop
culture. You're looking at this skinny kid, face
full of freckles, ears sticking out, and crucially,
that single defiant spike of hair standing straight
up. The cowlick. You're visualizing alfalfa.
Exactly. Alfalfa from the Little Rascals or,
you know, our gang, as it was originally called.
He is the poster child for innocent 1930s childhood
mischief, the squeaky voice, the suspenders.
It's wholesome. It's safe. It's a simpler time.
And that is exactly why the story we're covering
today is so jarring. Because if you take that
image, that funny kid, and you fast forward just
two decades. The picture changes completely.
Completely. We're not looking at a comedy set
anymore. We're looking at a scene with a .38
caliber revolver, a hunting dog, a glass clock
used as a weapon, and a violent death over $50.
It really is one of the darkest Hollywood stories.
And one that hardly anyone actually knows the
details of. So today we're doing a deep dive
into the life and the very controversial death
of Carl Alfalfa Switzer. And what's fascinating
here is that this isn't just a true crime story.
It's really a biography of the child star curse
before that turn even existed. Usually think
of that for like the 80s or 90s. Right. But looking
at the source stack today, Switzer was the prototype.
We have material on his rise, his struggle to
find an identity as an adult, and this investigation
into a homicide that was ruled self -defense.
But when you look at the details, it just screams
murder. So let's unpack this properly. How does
a kid from Paris, Illinois, end up becoming one
of the most recognizable faces in the world?
It was almost an accident, but complete stroke
of luck. This was 1934. Carl was six. His older
brother, Harold, was eight. Their parents took
them on a trip to California to visit family.
So they weren't out there for auditions or anything?
No, not at all. You hear these stories about
stage parents, but they were just tourists. They
went to visit the Hellroach Studios, which was,
you know, the comedy factory of the era. Yeah.
And back then, the studio had a cafeteria open
to the public called the Our Gang Cafe. And this
is the moment, the accidental audition. Exactly.
The boys, Harold and Carl, they just started
an impromptu performance right there in the middle
of the cafeteria. Just jumped up and started
singing. No way. And as luck would have it, Hal
Roach himself, the big boss, was there. He saw
these two kids belting out tunes, and he was
impressed. Sign him on the spot. Talk about being
in the right place at the right time. But here's
the funny part. Looking at the notes, originally,
it wasn't Carl who was supposed to be the star,
was he? No, it was the older brother, Harold.
They gave him nicknames like Slim or Deadpan.
The studio thought he had the look, but Carl?
Carl had that something extra. He was dubbed
Alfalfa, and within a year, he totally eclipsed
his brother. Wow. Harold was basically relegated
to the background, while Alfalfa became one of
the main faces of the series. That dynamic had
to be so strange. But speaking of talent, this
is where it gets really interesting. We all know
Alfalfa for that terrible singing, the cracking
voice, the straining. It's iconic comedy. But
it was all a lie. It was fake. A total fabrication.
This is the irony of his whole character. Carl
Switzer was actually a very talented singer and
musician. He and his brother were famous back
home for their musical ability. So the kid could
actually sing. The squeak was an act. He could
sing very well. The comedy came from the directors,
specifically forcing him to sing songs that were
just outside his vocal range. They would play
the music in a key that he couldn't quite reach.
That's brilliant and also kind of cruel. I mean,
it takes real talent to sing that badly on purpose.
It does. And by 1937, Alfalfa had surpassed Spanky
McFarland in popularity. They were the kings
of the lot. And while the kids got along pretty
well, Carl's best friend was actually Tommy Bond.
who played Butch, the bully. His on -screen nemesis,
yeah. Right. But the parents were a different
story. The fathers argued constantly, always
about screen time, about salary. My kid is a
star. He should get paid more. You have to imagine
the stress for a 10 -year -old. But all good
things come to an end. And in Hollywood, childhood
ends faster than anywhere else. Carl Switzer
left our gang in 1940. He was 12 years old. And
this is where the story usually gets depressing.
Yeah, the where are they now chapter. Well, it
was a struggle. It's the classic trap. He was
12, but to the world, he was alfalfa. He couldn't
shake it. He did a few films, but he was quickly
typecast as the juvenile. He couldn't get serious
roles because the moment he walked on screen,
audiences just wanted to laugh at the funny kid.
And looking at his filmography, it gets a little
sad. There's a series called The Gas House Kids.
Yeah. It was basically a knockoff of the Bowery
Boys. And Switzer was in his late teens playing
a character that was just alfalfa again. Still
doing the comically sour singing. It was like
he was trapped. But he was working. And this
is the part that just blew my mind. He's in some
massive classic movies that I have seen a dozen
times and I never realized it was him. Most people
miss them. Did you know he's in It's a Wonderful
Life? No. I've seen that movie every Christmas
for 20 years where... You know the scene at the
high school dance? The guy who has the key to
open the gym floor and reveal the swimming pool?
The guy who turns the key and dunks George Bailey
and Mary? That's Alfalfa. That is Freddie Othello,
played by Carl Switzer. He was Donna Reed's date.
Unbelievable. I will never watch that scene the
same way again. That's legendary cinema history.
And he's the guy pressing the button. And he's
in the Ten Commandments. A tiny part is a slave.
And in White Christmas, you barely even see him.
He appears as a photograph of an army buddy.
Freckle -faced Hanes. So he's popping up in these
masterpieces, but he's basically an extra with
a famous face. That has to mess with your head.
Exactly. You're famous enough to be recognized,
but not respected enough to get a real role.
And by the 1950s, the acting just wasn't paying
the bills. So he pivoted. He went back to his
roots in a way. He became a hunting guide and
a dog breeder. Which is a pretty rugged shift
for a Hollywood kid. It was, but he was good
at it. He had legitimate clients. Roy Rogers,
Dale Evans, even Jimmy Stewart. He was training
hunting dogs for the Hollywood elite. Still adjacent
to the fame, you know, but serving them. Okay,
so let's talk about his personal life, because
this is where the cracks really start to show.
In 1954, he gets set up on a blind date with
a woman named Diantha Collingwood. And she wasn't
just anyone. Diantha was an heiress to a grain
elevator empire. Her family had money. They hit
it off, got married in Vegas three months later,
and moved to a farm in Kansas. Alfalfa the farmer.
That sounds like a sitcom, but I'm guessing it
wasn't funny in real life. It didn't fit. Spanky
McFarland. who he stayed friends with, visited
him during this time. He told a story about how
Carl was so bored on the tractor he had to rig
up a radio just to stay on the monotony. Spanky
said he may have come from Paris, Illinois, but
he wasn't a farmer. And the marriage didn't last.
No. Divorced by 57, the money was running out,
he moved back to California. And this is where
the behavior starts to get erratic. He wasn't
just the lovable goofball anymore. Erratic is
putting it mildly. There are two incidents in
1958 that really paint a picture of a guy spiraling.
First, the Christmas tree incident. Right. December
1958, he gets arrested in Sequoia National Forest.
He had illegally cut down 15 pine trees. To sell?
Yeah, presumably as Christmas trees for some
quick cash. He was sentenced to probation. It
just shows a desperation, a disregard for rules.
And then there's the sniper. This one is like
something out of a noir film. January 1958, a
year before he died. He was getting into his
car in Studio City and a bullet smashes through
the window and hits him in the upper right arm.
Just a random shooting. They never caught the
gunman. It's still a mystery. But a random drive
-by wasn't common then. It suggests he might
have had enemies or was moving in some dangerous
circles. It wasn't just bad luck. Which brings
us to January 21st, 1959. The day it all ended.
And it all started over a dog. A treeing walker
coonhound, to be specific. Switzer was training
this dog for a friend and business partner named
Moses Bud Stiltz. Bud Stiltz. Okay, so they were
friends. Associates, maybe. Drinking buddies.
While Switzer had the dog, it ran off. Chased
a bear, got lost. And Stiltz was furious. He
demanded Switzer either return the dog or pay
him its value. Which is... Reasonable, I guess.
You lose my dog, you owe me. Sure, but Switzer
didn't have the money. He was bartending just
to get by, so he puts out ads offering a reward.
Eventually, someone finds the dog. Switzer pays
the rescuer $35 cash and buys him $15 worth of
drinks, so he's out $50. $50, which, to be fair,
is about $500 in today's money. It's not nothing.
It's not nothing, but it's not a fortune. And
now Switzer's annoyed. He feels that since it
was Stiltz's dog, Stiltz should reimburse him
for the reward money he paid out. So he decides
to go collect. Right. It's the evening of January
21st. Switzer has been drinking. He grabs his
friend, Jack Piat, and they head over to Stiltz's
house in Mission Hills. And this is where we
have to be really careful because the accounts
start to diverge. We know they arrived. We know
they banged on the door. Stiltz later testified
that Switzer yelled, let me in or I'll kick in
the door. So an aggressive start. He's coming
in hot. Very. They get inside. A fight breaks
out almost immediately. And this wasn't just
shouting. Someone accounts Differ, who grabbed
a heavy glass -domed clock off the mantle. A
clock? Wow. And smashed it over Stiltz's head.
Stiltz is bleeding. His eye is swelling shut.
He retreats to his bedroom and comes back with
a .38 caliber revolver. Now we have a gun. This
went from a fistfight to life or death in seconds.
Switzer lunges for the gun. They struggle. The
gun goes off. The first shot goes into the ceiling.
And there were kids in the room, right? Yes.
The bullet fragment actually grazed the leg of
Tom Corrigan, Stiltz's 14 -year -old stepson.
Chaos. Absolute chaos. A bleeding man, a drunk
former child star, a gun going off. And Stiltz
regains control of the gun. And then he shoots
Carl Switzer in the groin. Oh. God, the groin.
That's horrific. It hit an artery in his abdomen.
Massive internal bleeding. He was pronounced
dead on arrival at the hospital. He was 31 years
old. 31. And the official ruling. Justifiable
homicide. Self -defense. Because Stiltz claimed
Switzer had a knife. Right. That was his story.
Exactly. Stiltz testified that Switzer pulled
a hunting knife and screamed, I'm going to kill
you. And the jury believed him. Case closed.
Except, looking at our notes, it shouldn't have
been. Because decades later, a witness came forward
with a story that changes everything. This is
the contradiction that turns this whole thing
into a potential murder mystery. Tom Corrigan,
the 14 -year -old stepson who was in the room.
And he never testified at the original inquest.
No. He agreed to, but the authorities just never
called him. But years later, in 2001, he finally
spoke. And his version of events is chilling.
What did he say? He said there was no knife during
the fight. He said that after the feeling shot
went off and grazed him, the mood just shifted.
He claimed Switzer turned to his friend Jack
and said, well, we shot Tommy. Enough of this.
Like the fight was over. The adrenaline broke
because a kid got hurt. He was backing down.
Exactly. Corrigan says Switzer and Piat turned
to leave. They were heading for the door. And
that is when Stiltz fired. So he shot him as
he was walking away. Corrigan says Stiltz shot
him as he was leaving. That it wasn't self -defense,
it was retaliation. He called it murder. But
what about the knife? The police report says
they found a hunting knife under Switzer's body.
You can't just fake that. Can't you? The report
says they found a knife. But during the inquest,
it was revealed that it wasn't a hunting knife.
It was a penknife. A small pocket knife. And
here's the kicker. It was closed. It was closed?
How do you attack someone with a closed penknife?
You don't. And you certainly don't scream, I'm
going to kill you. while holding a folded knife.
Corrigan believed the knife either fell out of
Switzer's pocket when he collapsed, or... Well,
the implication is that it was conveniently noted
to support the story. And Stiltz had a record,
didn't he? Stiltz had a past conviction for perjury.
A known liar. And yet they took his word for
it. They didn't even call the stepson who saw
the whole thing. That is just, it's mind -blowing.
You have a dead celebrity, a shooter with a perjury
record, a witness who says it was murder, and
a closed knife. And they just walk away. It seems
they just wanted to wrap it up. A drink brawl
gone wrong. And honestly, Switzer's reputation
as a hothead probably didn't help him. It's such
a tragic end. And to add insult to injury, the
world barely noticed when it happened. That's
the final twist of the knife, isn't it? Yeah.
Carl Switzer died on January 21st, 1959. Do you
know who else died that exact same day? No idea.
Cecil B. DeMille. the legendary director of The
Ten Commandments. The movie Switzer had a bit
part in. The very same. DeMille's obituary took
up the front page of every newspaper. He was
a giant. Carl Switzer Alfalfa was relegated to
a tiny footnote in the back pages. Former child
star killed in fight. That is heartbreaking.
Even in death, he was just an extra in someone
else's movie. If you go to the Hollywood Forever
Cemetery, you can find his grave. It's near the
old studios. What's on the stone? It has the
Masonic Square and compasses. He was a Freemason
and an image of a hunting dog. The very thing
that led to his death. A permanent reminder.
You know, we started this talking about that
image of Alfalfa, the innocence, and we ended
up in a hallway with a gun and a $50 debt. It
just makes you wonder about the real cost of
that kind of fame. He spent his whole life trying
to be something other than Alfalfa, but in the
end, he just couldn't escape. And it raises that
really uncomfortable calling of justice. If the
police had listened to the boy in the room, would
the history books tell a completely different
story? Was it justifiable homicide? Or was it
an execution of a man who was just trying to
walk away? A question we'll probably never get
a definitive answer to. That's all for this deep
dive. It's a story that reminds us that the characters
we love on screen are real people, often living
lives far more complex and tragic than any roles
they play. Absolutely. Thanks for listening,
everyone. See you next time.