Netflix viewers are showing sympathy to serial killer and prosтιтute Aileen Wuornos, and have accused the streaming service of unfairly telling her story in their new crime documentary series, Catching Killers.
Wuornos, who was born in Rochester, Michigan, sH๏τ and murdered seven men in Florida in 1989 and 1990 while they were soliciting Sєx from her. At the time Wuornos was working as a prosтιтute to support herself and girlfriend, Tyria Moore. She claimed her victims had tried to hurt her, and that all of the homicides were committed in self-defense.
She was eventually found guilty for killing six out of the seven men – – Richard Mallory, David Spears, Charles Carskaddon, Peter Siems, Troy Burress, Charles Humprheys and Walter Jeno Antonio – and was sentenced to death. She was executed by lethal injection on October 9, 2002.
Now, Netflix has delved deeper into the gruesome events surrounding Wuornos’ crimes in the second episode of its latest true crime show, which currently sits at number six on their Top 10 list.
But after watching the episode, which is called Manhunter: Aileen Wuornos, many people took to Twitter to share their thoughts, and they think Wuornos, who was dubbed the Damsel of Death, may have been treated unfairly.
Netflix viewers are showing serial killer Aileen Wuornos sympathy, and have accused the streaming service of unfairly telling her story in their new crime doc, Catching Killers
Wuornos, who was born in Rochester, Michigan, murdered seven men in Florida in 1989 and 1990. She claimed the victims had tried to hurt her, and that it was self-defense
Wuornos was Sєxually ᴀssaulted and beaten by her grandfather as a child. She is pH๏τographed at 11 years old
At 14, she was kicked out of her house and began supporting herself through Sєx work while living in the woods
Wuornos never met her father, who was in prison at the time of her birth. He had been convicted of Sєx crimes against children and was also diagnosed with schizophrenia. He committed suicide in prison when Wuornos was 13 years old.
Wuornos’ mom abandoned her when she was only four years old, so she went to live with her maternal grandparents, who were both alcoholics. She later claimed that her grandfather Sєxually ᴀssaulted and beat her when she was a child.
When she was 14 years old, she became pregnant after she said she was raped by an accomplice of her grandfather’s. She gave birth to a baby boy on March 23, 1971, who she put up for adoption.
Soon after, her grandmother died of liver cancer and she was then thrown out of her house by her grandfather. She dropped out of school and began supporting herself through Sєx work, while living in the woods behind her house.
‘She had a horrible family life,’ the detective sergeant who worked on her case, Brian Jarvis, said in the Netflix series.
‘She didn’t have a mother or father figure. Her father was a career criminal.
‘She went out on her own. By the age of 13, 14, she was prosтιтuting herself for cigarettes.
‘She lived in a car in the woods for a while. At one point, she bought a gun and was going to rob a convenient store but got arrested for that.’
In the years before the murders, Wuornos was arrested multiple times – for disorderly conduct, ᴀssault, armed robbery, car theft, resisting arrest, and more.
Pictures is David Spears (left), Richard Mallory (middle), and Walter Jeno Antonio (right) – three of Wuornos’ victims
Pictured is Charles Carskaddon (left), Troy Burress (middle), and Charles Humphreys (right) – three of Wuornos’ victims
Netflix has covered the gruesome events in the second episode of their new show, but some people think Wuornos was been treated unfairly. She is pictured during a police interview
!['Not Netflix painting a [cop] perfect-picture while making Aileen Wuornos be the monster whose side of the story is not even shown,' one viewer wrote](https://i.dailymail.co.uk/1s/2021/11/10/16/50313145-10187147-image-a-77_1636562722117.jpg)
‘Not Netflix painting a [cop] perfect-picture while making Aileen Wuornos be the monster whose side of the story is not even shown,’ one viewer wrote
Another person said that Wuornos was ‘let down by society’ and that she ‘needed help’
The detective sergeant who worked on her case, Brian Jarvis (pictured), said in the Netflix doc: ‘She went into this mode where she was that predator, and she would be out for the kill’
Steve Binegar (pictured), Criminal Investigations Commander, added: ‘She had a tough life but there’s a lot of people out there who have had tough lives, they don’t go on a killing spree’
The Netflix series covered the police’s investigation and how they caught Wuornos, but fans felt that it didn’t focus enough on her traumatic childhood. One person said on Twitter that they felt her side of the story was not told in the docuseries.
‘Not Netflix and Catching Killers painting a [cop] perfect-picture while making Aileen Wuornos be the monster whose side of the story is not even shown,’ they wrote. ‘And of course, the system hasn’t got a flaw there.’
Wuornos eventually confessed to the murders in an attempt to protect her girlfriend, Moore.
‘I’m the one that did the killing. I know that I don’t want my girlfriend involved. She did not do anything and I’m trying to make this clear, that’s why I’m confessing,’ she could be heard saying during an interview with the police.
She continued: ‘I don’t understand why I did it. I should have never done it. See, most of the times, I was drunk as Hell, and I was a professional hooker.
‘They were bad. They were gonna hurt me. This person was either gonna physically beat me up, rape me, or kill me. I don’t know which one. I just turned around and did my fair play before I would get hurt.’
Steve Binegar, the Criminal Investigations Commander on the case, said in the Netflix series: ‘She had a tough life but there’s a lot of people out there who have had tough lives, and they don’t go on a killing spree.’
‘I don’t know if anyone, including her, knows exactly why she did it. Some people, that’s all they want to concentrate on, but that wasn’t really my job.
‘My job was to figure out who committed these murders and put that person where they needed to be, and that was behind bars.’
Brian added, ‘There was something that would flip her off, like a switch going off, to where she went into this mode where she was that aggressor, that predator, and she would be out for the kill.’
Wuornos was eventually found guilty and was sentenced to death. She was executed by lethal injection on October 9, 2002
After watching the episode, Twitter was flooded with various reactions, and one person said that although what Aileen did was ‘awful,’ they pitied her
Others claimed that she deserved a better defense attorney and that the trail would have been handled differently if it happened today
Another person pointed out that ‘her crimes were less horrific than most male serial killers’
‘I’ve never felt sympathy for any serial killer at all and I’ve watched more than 20 documentaries but the Aileen Wuornos case made me tear up a li’l,’ another user wrote
After watching the episode, which came out on November 4, 2021, Twitter was flooded with various reactions, and one person said that although what Aileen did was ‘awful,’ they pitied her.
‘I have no explanation but I’m watching Catching Killers and I feel bad for Aileen Warnos. Seems very much like nature vs nurture. Stuff she did was awful. But for whatever reason I pity her,’ they tweeted.
A second Twitter user said that Wuornos was ‘let down by society’ and that she ‘needed help.’ They wrote, ‘Aileen Wuornos was proper let down by society man. She needed help but she deserved to die in the end. #CatchingKillers.’
Others claimed that she deserved a better defense attorney and that the trail would have been handled differently if it happened today.
‘What if Aileen Wuornos had a better defense attorney who could argue she was traumatized and in need of mental health care?’ someone tweeted, with another person adding, ‘Aileen Wuornos’ trial would have been handled entirely differently if it happened today.’
Another person pointed out, ‘This needs to be said. Aileen Wuornos did not get a fair trial or sentence. Her crimes were less horrific than most male serial killers. Gary Ridgway murdered 49 people and is breathing to this day.’
‘Does anyone else think that Aileen Wuornos wasn’t that bad? Like how is she in the same category as these other serial killers?’ one message read.
‘I’ve never felt sympathy for any serial killer at all and I’ve watched more than 20 documentaries but the Aileen Wuornos case made me tear up a li’l,’ another user claimed. ‘I know I’m not supposed to feel sad about a serial killer but idk.’
‘Aileen Wuornos’ story breaks my heart every time,’ one final viewer wrote after watching the Netflix show.
💔 STELLA PARTON BREAKS HER SILENCE — What She Said About Dolly’s Health Has Fans Looking Back
Dolly Parton’s Sister Breaks Silence What Really Happened - GMT - G1
Stella Parton was born May 4, 1949, the sixth of twelve children raised by Robert Lee and Avie Lee Parton in Sevierville, Tennessee — a household defined by noise, limited money, and almost no privacy, the kind of environment that produced strong, determined personalities.
Stella was one of them.
By seven, she was appearing alongside her older sister Dolly on a Knoxville television program; by her teens, she was writing her own songs, though marriage and motherhood pulled music to the margins of her life for a stretch.
The dream never fully disappeared.
In 1967, she recorded a gospel album with her mother and sisters, and later worked clubs in Washington, D.C., before founding her own record label in 1975 and releasing “I Want to Hold You in My Dreams Tonight,” which climbed to number nine on the country charts.
Long before any of that commercial success, Stella had already shown a willingness to take positions others avoided.
At 26, amid backlash against Australian singer Olivia Newton-John for winning recognition in country music, Stella recorded “Ode to Olivia” in her defense — a stand that offered her no career benefit and real risk of criticism, but one she took anyway simply because she believed staying silent was the wrong choice.
That instinct defined the rest of her career: hits like “The Danger of a Stranger” and “Steady as the Rain” (written by Dolly) built a genuine, independent following, including in the U.K., while Stella also worked in New York theater and spoke openly, often controversially, about poverty, domestic violence, and the treatment of women in the music industry.
She was named the Christian Country Music Association’s Female Vocalist of the Year in 2004.
Through all of it, she remained defined publicly, more often than not, as simply “Dolly’s little sister” — a label she spent five decades quietly proving didn’t tell the full story.
That same directness is why her comments in the fall of 2025 carried real weight.
Stella had never positioned herself as the family’s image manager or spokesperson; she was, by reputation, someone who believed difficult truths shouldn’t stay hidden indefinitely.
What she described wasn’t dramatic or accusatory — it was a portrait of a woman who had spent years prioritizing everyone else’s needs over her own.
The context mattered.
Carl Dean, Dolly’s husband of nearly sixty years, died in March 2025 at 82, after a long illness during which Dolly had devoted herself almost entirely to his care.
She later acknowledged that in the process, she’d neglected her own health significantly.
The loss reverberated through the whole extended family — the Partons had lost three brothers in the years surrounding this period, compounding grief that, for a family that had once crowded twelve children into a single small home, meant losing pieces of a shared childhood one after another.
Stella herself went seven years without releasing new music during this stretch, later describing the period simply as one shaped by sorrow, while still speaking about the importance of finding moments of laughter within it.
Looking back, one moment reads very differently in hindsight than it did at the time: in late September 2025, Dolly postponed her planned Las Vegas residency, citing health challenges — a rare cancellation for a performer whose six-decade career had included very few of them.
At the time, most fans treated it as a minor, temporary setback.
Stella’s later reflections suggested the signs had actually been building for some time, visible to family in ways the public smile made easy to miss.
That concern crystallized publicly not long after, when Dolly’s younger sister Frieda posted a simple request on Facebook asking fans to pray for Dolly.
What looked at first like an ordinary, well-meaning gesture spread rapidly, sparking widespread speculation about how serious Dolly’s condition actually was.
Dolly herself responded directly within days, appearing in a video from a Grand Ole Opry commercial shoot, insisting with her familiar humor that she wasn’t finished yet — the now widely remembered “I ain’t dead yet” moment that briefly quieted public concern.
In the months that followed, the pattern repeated: reassuring updates about kidney stones, dehydration, and treatment, paired with continued work on new projects, right up until Dolly Parton’s death on August 25, 2026, at 80.
Looking back across that full timeline — the postponed residency, the family’s public worry, Stella’s own account of a sister who consistently deprioritized her own wellbeing — it becomes easier to see what the people closest to Dolly understood well before the rest of the world did: that the warmth and resilience the public saw every time she appeared on camera came at a real, largely invisible cost.
