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- [00:00]
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Hey. Welcome back to Scary Stories and Rain. This podcast was designed to help you sleep or relax. And keep in mind that if you want to get rid of all of the ads for an uninterrupted experience, you can subscribe to this podcast for $2.99 a month. And this is the last two weeks to be automatically entered to win a Nintendo Switch 2 bundle. Sign up as a subscriber today, get rid of all the ads and be entered to win a Nintendo Switch 2. With that said, I really hope you enjoy this episode and thank you so much for being here.
- [00:33]
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This episode is brought to you by JCPenney yes, JCPenney, and if you've been there recently, you know it's the place to go for jaw dropping looks at brag worthy prices. They've got something special for every style and budget, not to mention rewards and deals that make finding those hidden gems even sweeter. If you already shop JCPenney, you're already in on the secret. But if not, it's time to wait. Am I sleeping on JCPenney? Penny shop jcpenney.com yes JCPenney.
- [01:08]
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This happened back when I was 14, but even with my bad memory I remember this years later. I honestly think that this memory will haunt me for the rest of my life. I would often go walking either alone or with my neighbor Jim, but this specific night she didn't go with me. I usually went walking around nine at night but was impatient that night so I left about 15 minutes early. It was summer in Texas, but I grabbed my black hoodie anyway. The reason for this was because I was a pretty small kid even for my age and I would walk with a knife in my sleeve in case of a problem. There was security in this area, but they were pretty much useless and weren't fond of the kids anyway, so the black was to avoid them seeing me and to maybe help avoid being noticed by anyone else too. The area was heavily wooded and the roads had no street lights. I had lived there my whole life, so with the moonlight this wasn't really an issue. I could see things as much as I needed to. I walked to the park in the area and sat down on the swing set like I had a million times before. The park was old and wasn't very well taken care of, so the swing set creaked. The wooden picnic tables were half rotted with the paint mostly peeled away and the metal slide was covered in rust. There was the main road that ran in front of the park and a branch off road that ran along the side of the park with a thin line of trees between the side road and park. After a while, a favorite song of mine came on and I of course started singing it. Since singing was a big way, I let out stress. Despite my stage fright, I had a tendency to not hold back when singing at this park, since there was rarely people near it during the day, let alone at night. My blood ran cold though, when I saw the shape of a person maybe 50 to 100ft in front of me on the main road. The main reason for the chill was the fear that this random person heard me sing. But then I got a deeper bad feeling. Something was just wrong about them. I noticed that the person was walking really fast. Like really fast, almost running speed. I figured he might have been running from something or after something. But when I looked around, everywhere that I could possibly see from where I was, I saw nothing else but but them. They soon passed by the park not seeming to notice me. And after a few minutes of waiting to make sure they were gone, I continued singing. After a couple more songs, I decided that it was time to go home. I still had that bad feeling, that uneasy pit in my stomach that you get when you're being watched. I even thought I saw something behind the tree line between the side road and the swings, but I brushed that off as an animal or something. Deer were really common, so were dogs and things like that. So it was probably me getting spooked by an animal again. But the feeling was eating away at me. So I cut my usual 30 minute to an hour walk to about 10 minutes. So I got up and started to leave the park, turning onto the main road to go home. As I was leaving, I saw a person walking toward the main road. From the road that ran alongside the park, it looked like the same person as before. It was a man. He must have been visiting a friend or something, right? Even if that was the case, I crossed to the opposite side of the street so I wouldn't pass directly by him. He didn't look particularly dangerous or unusual, so sadly, no weird, creepy homeless looking man for this story. I just got a bad feeling from him, which is probably what makes him even more terrifying. He got to the intersection before me and stopped. I passed by and glanced at the man, taking in what details I could. Under the moonlight that came from between the tree branches, he looked normal. He was probably an average height, wearing a pure white ball cap with no logos that casted a shadow over his face and a pure, pure white polo type shirt. There wasn't a speck of dirt on the man. He looked well kept and it made the moonlight almost shine on him like some kind of ghost, which just added to my uneasy feeling. He watched me as I passed by and I tried to pretend that I didn't notice. I would occasionally look around as if I was just looking at the woods so I could see the man out of my peripheral vision. I didn't want or need to see the man in detail, partly because I was scared of the possibility of seeing something else too. Just cause the man was much larger than me didn't mean that he wasn't probably armed too. Once I was around 15ft past the intersection, I glanced and my stomach dropped as I saw him turn and start to follow me. Maybe he was just going for an extra long walk or something. He probably isn't following me right then another thought popped in my head and sent my stomach to my feet. I had been there for probably 10 minutes or so, singing after he passed. What if he wasn't visiting anyone? What if he was the thing I saw just beyond the treeline? That's kinda obvious now that this was almost definitely the case. But let's be fair. When do 14 year olds ever think through all the details of a situation completely during the situation? He was probably watching me the whole time. He could have snuck up and done God knows what at any time. I kept doing my glances and noticed that he was getting closer and closer. I gripped my knife tighter, ready in case I had to use it. The chance of it going well wasn't the best, but it was a better chance than not trying at all. But I wanted that to be a last ditch option. I tried to make sure it wasn't obvious I was keeping tabs on him. I didn't want him getting anxious and having to decide to speed up or whatever his plan was. I was only halfway home and this was before I had surgery on my ankle, so I was absolutely sure he could catch me before I reached the house if I started running where I was. So that wasn't an option whatsoever. I didn't have many current options, so the one I chose was to bide my time until an opportunity opened up. I kept walking at a rather quick but unpanicked pace, keeping tabs on the man as he inched closer and kept an eye out for opportunities. And an opportunity came. I saw headlights. A car was rolling towards me at a careful pace like normal considering the animals I mentioned earlier. It was Jem's dad. I recognized the shape of the lights and as the car got closer I became convinced it was him. I was never so relieved to see that tiny white car. I tried signaling him without letting the man know I was, but he just passed by. He must have thought I was just saying hi. I glanced back again. Even though he didn't stop, he did exactly what I needed. He slowed down a bit as he passed. The man backed up a lot and crossed to the other side of the road. The headlights were on him and he couldn't see me, at least for around five or six seconds, maybe a bit longer, including readjusting to the dark. I walked faster. I didn't run that way my steps wouldn't be too loud, but I rounded the corner before he would be able to readjust and get sight of me again. Once I could turn and no longer see him, I rushed home and locked the door. I knew better than to leave it unlocked since after all, I lived in the woods. Just because I couldn't see him anymore didn't mean he wasn't nearby and didn't mean he couldn't see me. As stupid as this next part is, it's probably for the best that I did it. I texted Jim. I asked her to meet me outside right now because something happened and I needed to come over. She said okay and we both went outside and as soon as I saw her in the driveway, I sprinted to her house. I didn't want to be outside any longer than I had to be. She kept panicking and asking what happened and what was wrong, and once I caught my breath, I told her everything. Right after I got done explaining, her dad walked in the house. He looked at Jem, seeming worried, then noticed me hiding behind her. He looked relieved and told her, I was about to tell you to ask her to come over here. I asked him if he saw the man following me. He said he did. He didn't really see his face, but that he was trying to make it look like he was on the phone when he wasn't holding anything. But that wasn't even close to the worst part. I think this was the first time I have seen this man scared and I am not sure if I have ever seen fear like this from him since he told us the man wasn't alone. There was a gate at the front of where I lived that needed a card to get in. Apparently there was another man outside the gate who looked similar to the first, standing by a van. That mean they didn't live there, didn't want security knowing they were there, and wanted to get out quickly and quietly after they did whatever they were there for needless to say, I spent the night at Jem's that night and I have no clue what would have happened had Jem's dad not driven by or if I would have left at my normal time. When I was a junior in college, I took a Modern American Literature course under a professor who I will call Dr. H. Her class took place right after the lunch period, so many of her students would come into the classroom looking like they were ready for a nap. Dr. H sympathized with us, so before she started the day's lecture, she would tell us an interesting story in hopes for waking us up a bit. Usually her stories were tidbits about the author we were studying that day. Some stories were more successful than others in getting our attention, but there was one story she told that got everyone's attention. She said that the story was a little long, but she thought we would find it interesting because, as she put it, the devil is in the details. Dr. H was a senior in college at the time this story took place. She shared a room with another senior who she called S. They had both spent the day reading and working on papers for the week ahead, only breaking once to eat some sandwiches while listening to the radio. About 8:00pm p.m. Dr. H and S. Decided to reward themselves with the rest of the night off. Dr. H had a novel that she had been dying to read while S. Wanted to treat herself to some cocktails. S. Told Dr. H that she would only be gone for an hour tops. She then said in a joking manner, if I'm not back in two hours, make sure the police find my body. S. Decided to have a cocktail or two at a bar was popular with her classmates because it was so close to campus. She sat down at the bar and ordered a dry martini. She did not notice that she was seated right next to a man until she looked up from her glass and was greeted with a smile. The man tipped his tumbler at her and said hello. S. Was immediately embarrassed, especially because there was an empty seat to her right. She was about to move to the other seat, feeling as if she had violated one of the unspoken rule of bars. But before she could get out of her seat, the man said, you don't have to move if you don't want to. I like the company. The man extended his hand to S. And introduced himself as Chris. He said that he worked in construction and was renting a room in the area. He asked S. What she was studying and she told him she was a psychology major. Chris eyes lit up and to S's surprise, he began to talk about Freud and Young. She told him she had to do an experiment for her final project and he asked her which method she would be using, an observational study or a survey. She told him she wanted to make a link between lack of empathy and the potentiality for criminal behavior. She told him she wanted to do an observational study, something similar to Milgram's controversial study studies, but based on posing scenarios rather than shock experiments. Chris shook his head. You should do a survey instead. S pointed out that people could lie on a survey without thinking twice about it, but that it was a lot harder to lie to someone's face. Chris chuckled. Sweetheart, a psychology professor could look at a student, the same student for three years, and never have an inkling that the kid can killed his mother and has her buried in his backyard. People can lie to your face if they want to keep a secret bad enough, but a true sicko can't refuse the chance to show his true colors on a survey because that guy wants to shock you. S. Listened as Chris argued that Jack the Ripper's letters from Hell proved his point, but she had already decided that though Chris knew some things about psychology, his lack of knowledge was beginning to show. Nevertheless, S still appreciated how passionate Chris was about helping her make the right decision regarding her project. She eventually told Chris that she would bring up all the good points he had made to her professor, and this seemed to satisfy him. Though S was attracted to men her own age, Chris had a certain appeal. He was not bad looking for an older man, and most importantly, he was easy to talk to. Over the course of 45 minutes, they had talked about various subjects, including psychology, politics, and places Chris had traveled to while working various construction jobs. In all that time, Chris had not hit on S once. If Chris was trying to seduce her, he was being admirably patient in his approach. He did offer to buy S another martini when she finished her first, and though S would have normally said no to the offer, she felt so comfortable around Chris that she let him buy her a drink. While she had carefully nursed her first martini, S quickly drained her second, and without asking permission first, Chris bought her another. S did not mind because she wanted to spend more time with Chris. It pleased pleased her that Chris seemed to have no expectations for sex in return for his generosity. S's attention quickly turned momentarily from Chris to the television behind the bartender. The newscaster was giving a preview for the evening news, which included a story about a fatal car accident that had occurred earlier that morning. S. Told Chris that she had heard about the accident on the radio that afternoon. She said that she felt terrible, terrible because a whole family had been killed in a head on crash. Chris replied, I wonder if anyone was beheaded. Then he chuckled. S. Was stunned by this sudden change in Chris's personality. It was like an invisible mask had quietly slipped off of Chris's face to reveal the true man underneath. S. Had an urge to leave the bar, but the psychology major in her was intrigued. She had read about inappropriate effect and emotional personality disorders, but she had never met someone who displayed any of those characteristics before. Any desire that she had to sleep with Chris was now over, but she thought that he might be an interesting story to share with her fellow psychology majors. S. Continued to listen as Chris started talking in graphic detail about some of the accidents he had seen seen at construction sites, including one guy whose hand and wrist got pulled into a cement mixer and another guy who fell four stories from scaffolding and wound up in a twisted mess on the rubble below. The whole time he was talking about his fellow co workers being maimed or killed on the job, Chris was smiling and giggling. S. Tried not to show her disgust, but when Chris followed up on a story of one of his co workers being impaled by a piece of rebar by inviting S. To his room for some real drinks, S. Suddenly remembered that she told her roommate she would be back in an hour. Chris's face was suddenly indifferent. Not angry or sad, but more cold and expecting. Most men would have tried to turn on the charm in hopes of salvaging the night with a potential conquest, but Chris had already caught the eye of a blonde that had just walked into the bar. S. Said good night. Chris gave her a little wave, but said nothing. When S. Finally arrived back to her room, S. Apologized for being late. She told Dr. H that she had been talking with a man. Dr. H smiled at the news and said, so what was he like? S. Replied, he was interesting, but not in a good way. Early that morning, Dr. H was woken up by a pounding sound on their door. She heard the RA shouting on the other side of the door, wake up. The campus is on lockdown. Dr. H had to shake S awake. They went outside to the hallway and saw the other occupants on the floor standing in nightgowns and pajamas, crying, whispering or just looking dazed and confused. The RAs looked panicked and they spoke to each other in whispers. Dr. H learned through the various conversations that multiple girls had been brutally attacked on campus just minutes ago. Police believed that the killer could still be on campus. No one in that dorm at that moment knew the extent of what had just taken place. Later that morning, each girl in the dorm was asked if they had seen anyone strange that night. For a moment, S. Thought of Chris, but she told herself more than likely that Chris was with a woman right now. S. Told the officer no and thought nothing more about it. When a news report finally broke a month later showing that the campus killer had been apprehended, there was a collective sigh of relief and a few loud cheers from the young women gathered around the television. Dr. H. Smiled, but when she turned to look at S. Her roommate was staring at the television. Her eyes were wide and her face looked pallid. S. Said, I think I'm gonna throw up. It was not until two years later, when Dr. H. Who had just finished her master's degree, and S. Who was now a law student, were having brunch, that the subject of that horrifying night was brought up again. Dr. H. Said that S. Suddenly looked like she was not feeling too good. Dr. H. Asked S. What was wrong. There was a pause as S. Took a sip of her orange juice. Dr. H. Could see that S's hand was shaking. S. Finally spoke that night at the bar. If Chris had asked me to go to his room 30 minutes into our conversation, I would have gladly gone. S. Began to tear up. She then added, I wonder if I would be here right now. The man S. Had drinks with that night was Ted Bundy. This happened several years ago. I was home alone one evening when I heard a knock at the back door. This confused me as no one ever used that door. My husband and I lived in a fourplex at the time, and all of the units had a back door at the top of a narrow staircase. These doors were a little inconvenient to access as you would have to go around the building and up the narrow stairs as opposed to the wider main entrance at the front. It didn't make sense to use the back entrance, and I couldn't think of anyone who would go to that door to visit. As I approached the back door, I saw two tall men in the window standing at the door. A chill went down my spine. I did not feel safe opening the door, so I called out, hello. One of the men tapped on the window. Yes, hello. May we come in? We are with Bresnan at the time. My husband and I had Bresnan for cable but did not have any issues with it. I replied, we're not having any issues with Bresnan. Is there a problem, ma'? Am? The man said. Can we come in? We're servicing the area and it's important we look at your cable. I shook my head. We're not having any issues, I repeated, so there's no need to stop by. Ma', am, we are visiting every resident. Let us in so we can do our job. I noticed the man grabbed the doorknob and tried to open the locked door. Door. I slowly grabbed a knife from our knife block and held it at my chest. We're not having any issues, I repeated, trying not to convey shakiness of my voice. So you don't need to be here. The two figures appeared to shuffle and then straighten. Ma', am, let us in. We're on a deadline and need to do our job. I glanced at the clock, gauging when my husband would arrive home from work. I gripped the knife tighter. Ma', am. Ma'. Am. I saw him try the doorknob again. I closed my eyes and felt overwhelming gratitude of always locking my doors. Just then a thought came to the forefront of my I'm sorry I can't help you. Can I please get your names and badge numbers? I can give your supervisor a call to let them know our cable is fine. I heard another shuffle and one of the men replied, no need to, ma'. Am. We're sorry we wasted your time. With that, both of the men exited the staircase and disappeared into the night. Shaken up, I held the knife tight and tried to get my bearings. I remember making a mental note to call the cable company or the police, but my hands were shaking so badly I couldn't hold my phone. With the knife still grasped to my chest and the phone falling out of my other hand, I sank to the floor and cried. When my husband returned home, I told him what had happened. I was still very shaken up and had started crying again. After he came home, he immediately called the Bresnan Cable Company and spoke to a representative who informed us that no one from their company was out on assignment in our area. The next day we asked our neighbors if they had a visit from the company. No one had. My mom's dog, Punky, was a very sweet, loving dog. She was an ESA dog but trained to be a service dog for PTSD before she lost her leg. I had never seen her get aggressive with anyone in the entire 12 years she lived. She never growled or nipped anyone and she had no sense of smell, so she loved all animals and people. A real gentle giant among our little terriers. At £60. What I'm getting at here was that her barking at something and being aggressive was so wildly uncharacteristic that I only saw it once. I, 11 at the time, was at home with my siblings, my then stepdad is at work and my mom ran up to the gas station to grab a pack of cigarettes. It was only about a mile or two away from us. For reference, we lived in a two bedroom trailer in the middle of the woods on a dead end road at the time and you had to really make an effort to get down our road, find our house, navigate down our rickety driveway and find the door. I'm sitting at the computer having a grand time watching YouTube videos when all of a sudden all of our dogs, two Boston Terriers and one Chihuahua, perk up, bark a few times and start investigating down the hall. My siblings were napping in the bedroom at the end of the hall at the time, so I figure they just stirred and scared the dogs. But then Punky sits up suddenly, stands up on the couch and puffs her chest out. Her ears are perked up, her fur standing on end, her tails straighten up and then she barks loudly. I mean the bark booms through the living room and echoes around and all of a sudden she lunges off the couch and goes tearing down the hallway. I'm already on edge because I don't think I've ever heard her bark ever. She's a Basenji mix so her bark is more of a bang sound, but this was a big loud alert bark. I stand up and go to look down the hallway, ready to fight off what I'm assuming is a shadow monster based on how the dogs are acting. But then I hear it. Knock knock knock. We didn't get visitors because of how weird our house was location wise, so my 11 year old mind had no clue what to do here. The only people who showed up were family and they didn't knock, so I slowly walked towards the door. The knock drew the attention of the dogs and they came running back down the hallway. All except for Punky and I felt better with our three yappy dogs in the room with me, even if they were all the size of New York City sewer rats. I opened the door just a bit and stood. Standing on our porch is the sketchiest man I think I've ever seen. I can still picture him perfectly. He was really thin, taller man with dark hair and a sunken face, bags under his eyes and this half managed hair sort of like he just gave it a quick brush and then figured it was good enough. Everything about him seemed just a little too thin, a little too shallow. And his clothes were all off too. They were nice, but fake nice, you know, like a clean, newer looking T shirt and new jeans. But he had what looked like a suit jacket on. All his clothes were dark too, despite the fact that it was summer in Texas and the weather was definitely into the 1/ hundreds that day. He also had this plain, unlabeled bottle in his hand. It looked like the label had been covered up and taped over. I stare up at him in confusion because I definitely don't know this man and I ask what he wants. He smiles at me in this way that's way too fake, like this exaggerated and forced grin. And he spoke in the same voice retail workers do. Hey there kiddo. I'm trying to sell this here carpet cleaner. And he shakes the bottle at me. Mind if I come in to show you how good it works? Alarms are going off in my head because he just seemed so off looking back with an adult perspective. The fact that he didn't ask if my parents were home is unnerving because he probably knew they weren't and that's why he was here in the first place. I should have told him to get off our property, that I'd have to go get my mom something. Except what I did say, but I didn't. Instead I just shook my head and said, no, we don't have carpet. Well, it works on other things. He took a big step towards the door and shook the bottle at me. I start to freak out and think to close the door, but the thing is, our front door didn't even lock. It was a small town, hard to access the home. We never needed a lock, so that's basically useless. I'm sure there's something very wrong about to happen and I'm terrified as I think about what to do in the few seconds I think I have before it does happen, when all of a sudden I hear it. Punky had crept up from the hallway, lowered towards the ground with her teeth bared and snarling like she was feral. She had slobber just dripping from her mouth, her ears were down and she was ready to pounce. The guy hears it too, and as I look towards Punky, she tries to lunge past me and I just barely catch her with my leg as she tries her hardest to duck past me and attack this guy. He freaks out and runs off the porch without another word, booking it down the driveway. As I let Punky out along with the rest of our dogs and they start chasing him. Our small dogs chase him down the driveway and stop about halfway, barking and jumping about, but Punky stops just on the porch and watches him with her ears perked, just staring in the distance until he disappears. I swear I saw someone join up with him running when he got onto the road. The second he disappeared, Punky's entire body language changed and she went back to being the sweet dog I knew. No barking or growling, just laying around, mouth and throat covered in slobber. Still, I realized my siblings are still down the hall and run to check on them and when I get to the bedroom my siblings were still sleeping soundly, but the bedroom window was wide open, the curtains pushed all to one side and the items on the dresser in front of the window all shoved around. Someone had tried to climb through the window. No doubt in my mind about it. From what I can gather, the bedroom window was visible from the couch where Punky was sleeping. So I think someone was trying to climb through the window before Punky went after them and scared them off. And the man at the door was meant to distract me. They definitely didn't expect Punky a bigger dog because most of the time she was with my mom inside while our small dogs were the ones that saw public eye more often. I don't know what they intended to do, but after my mom got home she took all of us to my aunt's house and on our way there we saw the men walking up someone else's driveway. Men plural, because we watched a second one split off to wait by the road. On 24 November 1971, the day before Thanksgiving, a gentleman in his mid-40s walked up to the Northwest Orient Airlines counter at Portland International Airport in Oregon. He was a quiet, un unassuming man in dark sunglasses, carrying a black briefcase and wearing a black business suit with a white shirt. As he used cash to purchase a one way ticket to nearby Seattle, he told the clerk behind the counter that his name was Dan Cooper. Shortly after, Cooper boarded the waiting Boeing 727 and took a seat in the rear of the passenger cabin before ordering a bourbon and soda. The sparsely occupied aircraft took off on schedule at 2:50pm that afternoon for the short 30 minute flight into Washington. Once the flight had reached altitude, flight attendant Florence Schaffner began to walk up and down the aisle taking drink orders from the passengers. When she reached the row where Dan Cooper was satisfied and asked him for his order, he simply handed her a note. Ms. Schaffner opened it up and gasped when she saw what was written. Written with a felt tip pen in neat printed capital letters were just four I have a bomb. Cooper then invited Florence Schaffner to take a seat next to him. Only it wasn't so much an invitation as an order. According to later statements, Cooper then showed the terrified flight attendant exactly what was in his briefcase. She saw eight large cylinders linked to a small circular battery unit with red insulation wire. Schaeffner had never seen an explosive device before, but the one she saw that afternoon was very, very convincing. Cooper then leaned into her ear before whispering his demands. $200,000 in negotiable American currency, four parachutes and a fuel truck standing by in Seattle, one that was ready to refuel the aircraft once it had landed. Schaffner promptly walked down the aircraft's aisle to the cockpit, relayed Cooper's demands to the pilot, and assuring him that she had seen the explosive device that he was threatening them with. Captain William Scott, the aircraft's pilot quickly contacted Seattle airport informing them of the grave situation on board. Not wishing to cause a panic, the pilot passed a message over the intercom to the passengers on board telling them that their arrival at the Seattle airport would be slightly delayed due to minor technical difficulties. On its arrival in Seattle airspace, the aircraft entered a holding pattern, circling the area to ensure that local authorities had time to fully assemble the money and parachutes that Cooper had demanded. Meanwhile, the president of the airline in question actually relented to Cooper's demands, personally authorizing the withdrawal of the full $200,000 from company accounts and passing along instructions that all company employees were to fully comply with the hijacker to preserve human life. A remarkable aspect of the hijacking was Cooper's behavior during the ordeal. Many aircraft hijackings during that period were hallmarked by the cruelty and political extremism of the perpetrators, such as the German Communist Red army faction. But flight attendant Florence Schaffner later described Cooper as being well spoken, calm and polite, going so far as paying for his drinks and offering to provide food for the flight attendants when the plane landed in Seattle. At no point did Cooper relate any kind of political motive for the hijacking and in fact, did not communicate any motive for his actions whatsoever. We can only assume that Cooper was a criminal who merely sought personal gain, but one that showed an unusual amount of compassion and empathy for those involved in the hijacking. At 5:24pm FBI agents on the ground at Seattle airport who had gathered Cooper's money from a few different local banks relayed a message to the pilot that the aircraft was cleared to land once it had landed. Cooper instructed the pilot to taxi the plane to a well lit area off the Runway before telling the flight attendants to shut off all the window shades on board to ensure that FBI snipers would be unable to get a clear shot on him. This is one of the first clues we get to just how much thought and planning Cooper had put into the whole operation. Shortly afterward, Northwest Orient Airlines ops manager approached the aircraft in civilian clothing, delivering a set of backpacks that were stuffed with cash to one of the flight attendants via the plane's rear staircase. Once Cooper was happy that the delivery was sufficient, he told all passengers and a handful of the flight crew to disembark, leaving only a skeleton crew to fly him out of there. It was during the refueling of the aircraft that Cooper informed them of their new course. They would be flying southeast towards Mexico City. But Cooper didn't only give them a new direction. He seemed to have an intimate knowledge of the aircraft's flight functionality, instructing them exactly how he wished the pilot to fly the plane, such as the speed and altitude he wanted them to fly at, even down to the angle at which he wanted the wing flaps to be deployed. He also instructed the pilot to ensure that the cabin remain unpressurized, telling him to leave the rear doors of the aircraft open when the plane took off again. An official from the Federal Aviation Administration requested a face to face meeting with Cooper, informing him that takeoff would be extremely unsafe given some of the conditions he had requested. It was a bluff. He was counting on Cooper knowing next to nothing about aviation. But Cooper knew far more than anyone had predicted and argued in return that he would only lower the stairs once the plane was in the air. As previously mentioned, it seems Cooper had planned and researched the operation in extreme forensic detail in the months or possibly years leading up to the incident and came armed with a frightening amount of knowledge surrounding civilian aviation. There was, however, one thing that Cooper apparently did not have knowledge of. He seemed to have expected the aircraft to be able to make one solid flight down to Mexico City, when in fact it only had a maximum range of about 1,000 miles. The CO pilot informed Cooper that they would have to make a refueling stop at Reno Airport down in Nevada. Cooper agreed, but seemed bizarrely unconcerned by such a detail. About two hours after they had originally landed, the hijacked aircraft prepared to take off again with just five people on board, four crew members and the hijacker himself. However, at this stage, the plane was being tailed by two F106 fighter aircrafts that had scrambled from the nearby McChord Air Force Base, one above and one below the hijacked plane so that Cooper would be unable to see them. After the plane took off, Cooper ordered the entire flight crew into the cockpit, leaving him alone in the cabin. One was later noted to have said that they had seen Cooper tying something around his waist before he began to lower to the rear staircase. At approximately 10:15pm the aircraft's rear staircase was still lowered. When the pilots landed the plane at Reno Airport, a large number of waiting FBI agents, sheriff's deputies, state troopers and local Reno PD began to surround the jet and quickly boarded to take Cooper into custody before he had a chance to get airborne again and escaped to Mexico. But as they completed a thorough search of the aircraft, they discovered that Cooper was nowhere to be found. All that remained of the man was his black clip on tie, his tie clip, and two of the four parachutes he had requested as part of his demands. The only possible conclusion to be drawn was that somewhere between Seattle and Reno, Cooper had jumped out of the plane. What followed was arguably the most extensive and intensive search and recovery operation in U.S. history. A series of composite sketches was developed with local police and FBI agents immediately seeking to question around 800 possible suspects. All but 20 or so of these were quickly eliminated from the investigation. One of these suspects was an Oregon man by the name of D.B. cooper, who had a relatively small criminal history. He too was ruled out of the investigation as just. One of the theories was that it was highly unlikely that the hijacker would have used his actual birth name to pull off such a daring heist. But thanks to the details of his questioning being released by reporters, the name DB Cooper stuck in the public's consciousness. Given that Cooper was thought to have jumped out of the aircraft just 20 minutes or so after takeoff, police centered their search on a certain area of Washington, specifically the land around the Lewis river in the southwest of the state. FBI agents and sheriff's deputies from nearby counties searched large areas of the mountainous wilderness surrounding the Lewis river on foot and and by helicopter. Door to door searches of local farmhouses were also carried out while search parties ran patrol boats along the river and in surrounding lakes. But no trace of Cooper nor any of the equipment he was thought to have jumped out of the aircraft with was ever located. The FBI then attempted to locate a trace of Cooper by releasing a list of serial numbers that were printed on the money they had given him. But this did little more than confuse the situation. In 1972, two men used counterfeit $20 bills printed with Cooper serial numbers to con $30,000 from a Newsweek reporter in exchange for an interview with a man they falsely claimed was the hijacker. For all intents and purposes, the man who called himself Dan Cooper had successfully completed his criminal operation before he disappeared into thin air. No evidence of Cooper was discovered until February of 1980, when a family vacationing on the Columbia river made a miraculous discovery. As they raked over a sandy riverbank to build a campfire. They uncovered three packets worth of the ransom cash that was delivered to Cooper on the tarmac of Seattle Airport. The bills had suffered serious water damage over the years and were heavily deteriorated, but were soon identified as the genuine article by FBI agents. However, none of the other bills have ever turned up anywhere in the world, despite their serial numbers still being available online for public inspection. But who exactly was Dan Cooper? It might seem obvious, but his financial situation was most likely extremely desperate. Why would a man take such an enormous risk otherwise? But whether or not this was to pay medical bills, debts, or for something more material can only be speculated on. One of the flight attendants told FBI interviewers that Cooper had been able to recognize the city of Tacoma from the air, and also noted that McChord Air Force Base was less than a half hour's drive from Seattle Airport, something that few civilians would have been aware of at the time. This has given rise to the idea that Cooper was an Air Force veteran or at least had a background in aviation, a theory supported by Cooper's apparently expert knowledge of the nature of aircraft. He was aware of flying techniques, engine placement, aircraft specifications, as well as local terrain. He may have also specifically selected the 727 model of aircraft, thanks to a recent innovation that allowed all three fuel tanks to be refilled at once. Cooper also knew that the rear staircase could be lowered during flight, a fact that was never disclosed to civilian flight crews, since there was no situation on a passenger flight that would make it necessary. He also seemed aware that its operation by a single switch in the rear of the cabin could not be overridden from the cockpit. Some of this knowledge was only known by CIA paramilitary units. So could Cooper have been former CIA or perhaps a rogue agent? One particularly interesting point is that Dan Cooper is a name shared by a popular Belgian comic book hero who was enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force. Dan Cooper took part in numerous heroic adventures, including parachuting. Yet the Dan Cooper comics were never translated into English. Nor were they imported over to the United States. So there has been much speculation that the hijacker may have encountered them during a tour of duty in Europe during World War II. The comics were not sold in the US but since some copies were translated into French, they were sold in Canada. Cooper could have well been a Canadian citizen. Given that he jumped out of a plane in Washington. His escape plan could have been over the border to his native country, with the whole Mexico reference being a diversionary tactic. In line with this theory, much has been made of his specific demand for negotiable American currency, a phrase which some was determined as unlikely to be used by a US citizen. Despite the fact that no dead body has ever been found. The FBI has long speculated that Cooper did not survive his jump parachuting into the stormy Washington wilderness. Without the right equipment in such terrible conditions, it's unlikely he even got his chute to open. And even if Cooper was lucky enough to land safely, survival in the mountainous terrain and the onset of winter would have been all but impossible without an accomplice waiting at an agreed upon drop zone. This would have required a perfectly timed jump which would have required cooperation from the flight crew. And there is no evidence that Cooper requested or received any such help from the crew, or that he had any clear idea where he was when he jumped out of the plane. It was also revealed that one of the parachutes they had provided to Cooper has been a dummy, an unusable unit with an inoperative ripcord intended solely as a teaching aid, although it had clear markings identifying it to any experienced skydiver as non functional. However, the FBI stressed that that inclusion of the dummy reserve parachute, one of the four obtained in haste from a Seattle skydiving school, was accidental and not a deliberate attempt to kill Cooper. The search for DB Cooper officially ended on 8th July 2016. It was on this day that the FBI announced that it was ending all active investigations, telling the public that they needed to focus on its investigative resources and manpower elsewhere. Local FBI field offices have stated that they will continue to accept any legitimate physical evidence related specifically to the parachutes or the ransom money that may emerge in the future. The 60 volume case file compiled over the 45 year course of the investigation will be preserved for historical purposes at FBI headquarters in Washington D.C. on the FBI website there is currently a 28 part packet full of evidence gathered over the years. And all the evidence is open to the public to read. So keep your eyes and ears open For a man with a little too much in the way of aircraft knowledge who has a little too much money for a retiree? There's every chance that D.B. cooper might still be out there, and it might be a listener of this very channel that finally solves the mystery of the greatest airline heist of all time. It's it's support for this podcast and the following message comes from America's Navy the Navy offers new graduates hands on training and experience in careers like computer science, aviation and medicine, plus education and sign on bonuses. Parents help your grads start their career today@navy.com when the Moore family ditched cable.
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Internet and switched to Zigly Fiber, they got so much more. Mr. Moore got more upload speed for next level gaming and livestreaming to the masses with reliable service. Mrs. Moore is no longer her family's IT guru, leaving her more time to stream games into overtime.
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Let's go.
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And young Mason Moore got more done quickly uploading HD product demos and video conferencing without FreeSync.
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The numbers look good.
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Brad.
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You're on mute.
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Switch from cable Internet to Zibli Fiber and get more of what you love for $65 less per month than cable@ziplyfiber.com.
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