Vanessa Richardson (4:23)
TikTok for business is helping owners like you reach new customers every day. Head over to get started. Started.TikTok.com TikTok ads. Bruno Richard Hauptman was born on November 26, 1899 in a village near Dresden, Germany. He was the youngest of five siblings and their lives were marked by the chaos that engulfed Europe in the early 20th century. Two of Bruno's brothers were killed in combat during World War I. Bruno was also drafted into the German army and sent to serve on the Western Front, but managed to survive shellings and gas attacks. The war was horrific, but life in post war Germany was no picnic either. The country's economy was in shambles and unemployment was rampant. With no other way to support himself, 20 year old Bruno turned to a life of crime in 1919. He spent the next three years burglarizing homes and robbing people at gunpoint. But in 1922, the law caught up to the 23 year old and he was arrested. Instead of taking responsibility for his crimes, Bruno somehow escaped from jail. When the guard discovered his empty cell, they found a note he'd left. It read Best wishes to the police. By then, Bruno was long gone. He'd fled the country and hopped a boat to America. In November 1923, the 24 year old arrived at Ellis island with forged paperwork and a stolen identity. It wasn't the most honest start to his new life, but after settling down in Queens, New York, it seemed like Bruno wanted to turn over a new leaf. He married a fellow German immigrant and found work as a carpenter. He was well on his way to the American dream. But he hadn't left his old ways behind. In just a few years, he'd get tired of the daily grind and risk it all for one big score. As Bruno Richard Hauptmann was getting established in the United States, another young man was making a name for himself in an emerging industry. Commercial aviation. Charles Lindbergh was the son of a Minnesota congressman and had been obsessed with flying since he was a child. He bided his time and in 1984, 1922, when he was 20 years old, Charles dropped out of engineering school to chase his dreams of becoming a pilot. Then in 1924, he honed his skills as a member of the US Army Air Service and later became an air mail pilot flying deliveries between St. Louis and Chicago. Charles was ambitious, intelligent and very hands on. He was a skilled mechanic who could fix planes just as well as he could fly them. But it wasn't until 1927 that he became a a household name. In 1919, hotel magnate Raymond Orteague announced a $25,000 prize to the first allied pilot who could make a non stop transatlantic flight between New York and Paris. That's a half million dollars in today's money. No one had managed to get it done, though several accomplished pilots had died trying. It was a dangerous journey that pushed the limits of what airplanes at the time were capable of. Weather conditions over the Atlantic could change unexpectedly and because much of the 3,600plus mile journey took place over open ocean, there was nowhere to land if something went wrong. None of that scared off Charles. Based on his experience flying through blizzards between St. Louis and Chicago, Charles believed that a single transatlantic flight would be less hazardous than another winter as an airmail pilot. So with some financial help from A pair of St. Louis businessmen, Charles designed and built his own plane to make the transatlantic journey. Charles figured the key was fuel efficiency. So he did everything he could to make the plane as light and aerodynamic as possible. Every inch of the exterior was sealed with aluminum and fabric to prevent wind drag. And every spare inch of the interior was dedicated to fuel tanks. When the work was done, he named his completed airplane the Spirit of St. Louis in honor of the St. Louis businessman financing his flight. On May 20, 1927, 25 year old Charles took off from an airfield on Long island bound for Paris, France. It was a grueling flight, but it was all worth it. When he landed. He'd proven that international air travel was possible and and he was welcomed as a hero. Over 100,000 Parisians rushed the airfield and a mob of adoring fans pulled him out of the cockpit and carried him around on their shoulders in celebration. From that moment on, Charles Lindbergh became one of the most famous people in the world. He met with leaders from all over Europe and when he returned to the US he was honored with a parade in New York City. In addition to the cash prize, he received several awards, including the first ever Distinguished Flying Cross from President Calvin Coolidge. Charles also published a book which became a bestseller and went on to receive the Pulitzer Prize. But even with all his success, Charles still craved adventure and he used his newfound fortune to fly around the world and promote the aviation industry. In December 1927, his travels took him to Mexico where he visited the home of the US ambassador. The ambassador's daughter, 21 year old Anne Morrow, happened to be home from college at the time. She and Charles hit it off and started dating two years later, in May 1929. They got married when Charles was 27 and Anne was 23. For a time they were known as the first couple of flight. Their days were spent meeting with prominent global leaders and making public appearances. But the newlyweds didn't want to be celebrities forever. They wanted a normal, quiet life. Most of all, they wanted to start a family. That's why they settled down in a country mansion outside of Hopewell, New Jersey in early 1930. Just a few months later, they welcomed their first child, Charles Jr. Charles Lindbergh had fame, fortune and a beautiful family. But in just a few years, his domestic bliss would be shattered by tragedy. On March 1, 1932, at around 10pm Charles Jr. S nurse entered the baby's room on the second floor of the Lindbergh home. She was shocked to discover that the 20 month old was missing from his crib. There were traces of mud on the floor, the window was open and a rickety handmade ladder was leaning up against the exterior of the house. The nurse rushed over to the window window and found a ransom note. The note, which was full of spelling mistakes, demanded $50,000 for Charles Jr's safe return which would be over 1 million in today's money. The author promised to send instructions on how to pay in the next few days. The nurse immediately notified Charles and Anne who called the police and began frantically searching their 390 acre property. Before long, the authorities arrived and joined the search. But the Only clues they found were a few difficult to identify footprints underneath the nursery window. Detectives dusted the ladder for fingerprints and found none. Clearly the kidnapper had thought ahead and worn gloves. They also questioned and investigated all the members of the Lindbergh's house staff but none raised any suspicions. As news of the kidnapping spread, hundreds of reporters and curious onlookers swarmed the grounds of the Lindbergh estate. By the time police were able to regain control of the crime scene, the intruders had trampled over any additional evidence. This was the first of many complications that the Lindbergh's celebrity status would bring to the case in the days to come. The kidnapping would become a new nationwide obsession. President Herbert Hoover was briefed on the crime and law enforcement officials offered a $25,000 reward for information leading to Charles Jr's safe return. Although the Lindberghs were more than willing to pay the $50,000 ransom, they offered the same amount to anyone who came forward to return their son. In the week after the kidnapping, the kidnapper sent three more letters to the Lindberghs. First, they increased the ransom to $70,000 as punishment for getting the police involved. That's over one and a half million in today's money. And second, they wanted the Lindberghs to find an intermediary to communicate through. According to the kidnapper, the negotiator had to be someone random and therefore impartial. Thanks to all the publicity the case had generated, plenty of strangers were vying for the role. One of those people was 72 year old Dr. John Condon. He took it upon himself to publish an ad in his local paper, the Bronx Home News. The retired principal addressed the ad to the kidnapper and offered to pay an additional $1,000 if they agreed to negotiate through him. On March 9, Condon got a response. The kidnapper was willing to work with him. With Charles Blessing, Condon began a theatrical back and forth involving coded messages printed in local paper and notes delivered via taxi drivers and hidden under rocks in random locations until finally, on March 12, Condon and the kidnapper met in person at New York's Woodlawn Cemetery. Condon paid close attention to the man who called himself John. He later described John as tall, with a high forehead, large ears and a pointed chin. During this meeting, John agreed to provide proof that he really had Charles Jr. A few days later, Condon received a delivery at his apartment. The pajamas Charles Jr. Was wearing when he was kidnapped. Once they knew the kidnapper or kidnappers really had Charles Jr. The Lindberghs gave Condon $70,000 worth of gold certificates to pay the ransom. At that time, gold certificates were a popular form of paper currency which could be used at stores like regular cash or redeemed at a bank for their face value in gold. Before handing these certificates over to Condon, the police carefully noted the serial numbers on every one of them so they could spot them if they turned up in circulation. Later, on the evening of April 2, 1932, Dr. Condon met up with a mysterious new John in a city park to hand over the ransom. Once John had the bag of gold certificates, he handed Condon a final note, then turned and walked away into the thicket of trees at the edge of the park. According to the note, Charles Jr. Was aboard a boat called the Nelly somewhere near Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts. Police rushed to Martha's Vineyard and began searching the waters all around the island for any sign of the Nelly. The but the boat wasn't there. And despite Condon and the Lindbergh's many attempts to restart negotiations, they never heard from the kidnapper again. They'd been fooled. But the biggest tragedy was still to come. More than a month later, on May 12, 1932, a truck driver stopped to go to the bathroom in the woods a few miles from the Lindbergh's property and made a horrible discovery. 45ft from the road, he spotted the decomposing body of an infant partially buried among the trees. When police arrived, they identified the body as Charles Jr. His skull had been crushed, and the county coroner later determined that the baby had been dead for roughly two months. A day later, the President authorized FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover to take command of the investigation. They hadn't been able to save Charles Jr. But they were determined to make his killer pay for what they'd done.
