American History Tellers - National Parks - Rough Rider | 3

Episode Date: August 29, 2018

Put out to pasture, thinking his political career over, Theodore Roosevelt was atop a mountain when he heard the news: an assassin’s bullet would likely take President McKinley’s life, and make Roosevelt president.Upon his inauguration shortly after, Teddy brought his lifelong love of the natural world into the White House with him. He found his executive pen a powerful tool, setting aside vast swaths of land as preserves and monuments. And later, as he sought his first term as an elected president, he embarked on the most comprehensive tour of America’s natural wonders any president had ever made: he was struck speechless at the Grand Canyon, met naturalist John Burroughs in Yellowstone, and took “the most important camping trip in history” with John Muir in Yosemite.Support this show by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's 1.25 p.m., Friday the 13th, 1901. You and some friends are on a climbing expedition in the Adirondacks. You've just descended 500 feet from the top of Mount Marcy, the highest peak in New York. Your party leader organized this trip. His family has joined, too. But when you all awoke this morning, the thick drizzle convinced his wife to bring their children to a lower point on the mountain.

But your leader wished to push on, and so at 9 a.m., you and several other friends joined him on the climb. It took three hours to reach the summit, but it offered a spectacular view. As you made your way back down, you all agreed that the lake on the mountain's southwest slope, the locals call it Tear of the Clouds. It was a prime spot to enjoy a light lunch of sardines and hardtack. As you eat, you notice your friend is quieter than usual. What's the matter, Theodore? Not enough variety of flora and fauna? Are you finding it hard to talk our ears off again today? He gives a polite laugh, but he seems melancholy. No, I just hadn't expected this to be the last high peak I'd climb.

You only have plenty of peaks left to climb. You're only 42. 43 in six weeks. Still, your life isn't stalling in middle age. You feel certain he is destined for great things and higher peaks. As a young man, he had a meteoric rise to fame and power, becoming a thorn in the side of career politicians in both New York and Washington. He should still be governor, but party bosses maneuvered him into the dullest job in the nation,

vice president of the United States, a position that provides no power or independence and prevents a man with ambition from doing anything worthwhile. I never should have accepted this job. Cheer up. There's always law school. Teddy scowls at you. But you're both thinking the same thing. After this term, he's done in politics. He might as well start considering next steps now. Even in crisis, I'm useless. A madman shoots McKinley and they pack me off on vacation.

There's value in reassuring people, Teddy. The president is going to be fine. That's what they said. At least, at least is going to be fine. That's what they said. At least, at least I get to be here. He takes a deep breath of the high altitude air and looks up at Mount Marcy. You know more than anything, your friend prayed for the president's recovery when McKinley was shot a week ago. And it seems his prayers have been answered. But he's only human. And you can tell that this entire trip, he's been reflecting on how close he came to reaching that other peak, the office of the president. Your friend, one of the most admirable men you've ever had the pleasure of knowing,

was a single breath away from being as close to king as this nation allows. Suddenly, you see something. Who's that down there? It's a man. A ranger. Hustling up the hillside. Mr. Roosevelt! He's soaking wet, but you can tell it's not from the early drizzle. It's sweat. Both you and Teddy stand as he gets closer. Mr. Roosevelt, sir! In his hand, he clutches the yellow slip of a telegram.

He thrusts the letter out to Teddy, who opens it and reads it to himself. Is everything all right? He looks out over the horizon and absently hands you the telegram. The president is critically ill. Stop. His condition is grave. Stop. Oxygen is being given.

Stop. Absolutely no hope. Stop. Members of the cabinet think you should lose no time coming. Stop. You look up, your heart pounding, but Teddy is already halfway to his horse. In one motion, he swings himself up. You call out after him.

Godspeed, Teddy! He nods at you and takes off down the mountainside. In your mind, the royal proclamation rings. The king is dead. Long live the king. From the team behind American History Tellers comes a new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, intimate moments, and shocking scandals that shaped our nation. From the War of 1812 to Watergate. Available now wherever you get your books. From Wondery comes a new series about a lawyer who broke all the rules. Need to launder some money? Broker a deal with a drug cartel? Take out a witness? Paul can do it. I'm your host, Brandon James Jenkins. Follow Criminal Attorney on the Wondery app

or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. Theodore Roosevelt was never supposed to be president. Vice president was a job for politicians put out to pasture. Party leaders had pressured Republican candidate William McKinley to make Roosevelt his running mate for two reasons. First, Roosevelt's popularity as a hero of the Spanish-American War could give McKinley a much desired bump in the polls. And second, by electing him vice president, New York politicians would

remove Roosevelt from state politics. His brash, independent style as governor of New York annoyed the party bosses, and they believed the position of vice president would strip him of his political influence. Roosevelt feared the same thing, but he was undeniably popular. At the Republican nominating convention in Philadelphia in 1900, 20,000 representatives chanted, we want Teddy, we want Teddy, until he reluctantly accepted the nomination. After he and McKinley won, Roosevelt fretted that his political career was indeed over. But Mark Hanna, the Ohio senator who was head of the Republican Party, wasn't so sure. He worried now that Roosevelt stood one heartbeat away from the presidency. What if something went wrong?

When McKinley was shot, six months into his second term, by a young anarchist at the World's Fair, it seemed Hanna's worst fears had come true. At first, President McKinley's gunshot wound did not seem that bad. His attending physician even declared his breast wound was no more than a gash on the ribs. But infection spread quickly and then became gangrene. The assassin's bullet may not have killed the president immediately, but within a few days, it took his life. At 42 years old, Theodore Roosevelt was thrust into the highest office in the country. He was the youngest president in history. The political schemer's

plan had backfired, and Hanna was disgusted. He vented, now look, that damned cowboy is president of the United States. Born into a wealthy New York family, Roosevelt was the pride and joy of his socialite mother. His father, Theodore Sr., was a businessman and philanthropist who imparted lessons on the importance of protecting the weak and helpless, especially children and animals. Roosevelt himself was a sickly child. Growing up, he often found himself confined to his bedroom, suffering from debilitating asthma. But while his body was weak, his mind was curious. Turning to books, he quickly developed a passion for the natural world. Nothing interested him more than animals and zoology. At nine years old, Roosevelt wrote a paper titled The Natural History of Insects.

With the help of a family friend, he became an avid taxidermist. He collected birds, rodents, and reptiles, even establishing the Roosevelt Museum of Natural History in a room of his family's brownstone. On more than one occasion, family housekeepers quit when they found animals that Roosevelt had collected carefully preserved in the kitchen's icebox. His parents' wealth allowed the family to travel abroad for his health. They visited the Swiss Alps for the clear air and Egypt so the dry heat could help his asthma. When Roosevelt was 12, his father set his son a challenge. You have the mind, but you haven't got the body. To do all you can with your mind, you must have a body to match it. Those words marked a turning point for Roosevelt.

He began using the gymnasium his father had installed in the family home. Through exercise, he transformed from a frail, sickly boy into a healthy young man, his asthma disappearing. But the new drive for physical fitness didn't slow down his studies. In fact, they increased his interest in the natural world.

Now he could enjoy long hikes, hunting, and camping, activities previously unavailable to him. This passion for the outdoors would stay with him till his dying days. Roosevelt's drive also eventually pushed him into politics. After becoming the youngest man ever elected to the New York State Assembly in 1881, he donated his taxidermy collection to the Smithsonian. But his personal life took a different turn. Roosevelt was married a year before his political career took off. In 1884, after three years of marriage and just two years into his term with the legislature,

he abruptly lost both his wife and his mother. They died within a few hours of each other, his wife of kidney failure and his mother of typhoid fever. After their deaths, Roosevelt retreated to the solitude of the West. He became a cattle rancher on the banks of the Little Missouri River in the Dakota Badlands. The frontier left Roosevelt with calloused hands and sunburnt skin, but it soothed his spirit, and he returned many times over the next few years. When a particularly brutal winter wiped out his cattle herd in 1886,

he got out of the cattle business and returned to New York with an even greater appreciation for nature. And he became an author. Roosevelt published his first book, Hunting Trips of a Ranch Man, detailing his early experiences out west in 1885. But Forest and Stream magazine, the country's premier publication for outdoorsmen, gave the book a mixed review. The magazine's editor, George Byrd Grinnell,

suggested that as a New Yorker and a newcomer to the West, Roosevelt had overlooked some of the nuances of the region he loved so. We are sorry to see that a number of hunting myths are given as fact, but it was after all scarcely to be expected that with the author's limited experience, he could sift the wheat from the chaff and distinguish the true from the false. Roosevelt was outraged by what he saw as the magazine's condescending tone. He stormed into the field and stream office and demanded to see Grinnell. After several minutes of awkward and heated discussion, Roosevelt eventually conceded that Grinnell's knowledge exceeded his own. The two became

friends, bonding over their mutual love of nature, hunting, and the preservation of big game animals. Imagine it's December 1887. You've just stepped into a warm house near Oyster Bay on Long Island. The house is named Sagamore Hill. As you enter, a maid takes your coat and offers you a drink. Your cousin, George Bird Grinnell, has invited you to a party hosted by his friend Theodore Roosevelt. You don't know Roosevelt personally, but you know he's involved in politics. As you enter a hunter's trophy room, you notice a collection of New York's finest. Bankers, industrialists, philanthropists. Roosevelt is going to ask you for money. You know it.

Your sugar refinery has been doing well lately. You hate these kind of gatherings. Despite your success, you're much more comfortable escaping to the woods upstate than sipping whiskey with aristocrats. That's when George greets you with a hearty handshake. But before you can formally say hello, you hear a commotion from across the room. Come now, Roosevelt, you must be joking. I'm not. It's important. If we don't organize and do something, there won't be anything left.

Hunters are clearing the West of Big Game with every sunrise. You don't find anything contradictory to the idea that you, an avid hunter, are attempting to invest our influence and money into protecting Big Game. I'm looking to safeguard the natural world that man has been running roughshod over these last two decades. The hunting in Yellowstone is just the start. I believe I remember a time, not too long ago, when you were saying how you longed for a bison head to hang in this very library. The very animal you are now claiming is endangered. You raise your eyebrows at George, but he shakes his head as if to say he appreciates Roosevelt's enthusiasm.

That's when you realize the room is nearly silent, except for the two feuding men in the corner. The point of this organization is to promote the idea of fair chase. Hunting big games should be done in an ethical way. Species should be able to live naturally in the wild and not be confined by artificial barriers. And what do you do about commercial hunting? We need to eliminate market hunting altogether. Allowing it to continue will inevitably lead to the extinction of species that have existed for thousands of years. Controlling the hunts will allow us to conserve lands for generations to come. And you really think you can do all that? My good man, with the help of the people in this very room, I know that we can.

The fire in this man is unlike anything you've ever seen before. With his enthusiasm and confidence, if he ever ran for office, he'd have your vote. George introduces you to Roosevelt. George tells me you're a lover of the outdoors. There are a few things I enjoy better than a hike in the silent forests of state. Well, we're establishing an organization of sorts for the conservation of nature's wonders. Our goal is to support the ideas of forest and natural resource management, restricted natural resource use, game habitat preservation, and clean water. This is the last thing you were expecting on your ride here.

You and George have discussed these kind of ideas in private, but never realized there were others that felt the same. What are we called? Roosevelt Cox and I. We? Ha! You remember already! He smiles at George and slaps you on the back. We named ourselves after the two greatest hunters in American history. We're the Boone and Crockett Club. The founding of the Boone and Crockett Club in 1887 helped lead the charge in a new,

growing wave of conservationism. The membership, which included prominent businessmen, politicians, artists, and scientists, unanimously voted Roosevelt their club president. In the group's 1887 constitution, the members named their first goal, to promote manly sport with a rifle. At the same time, they aimed to work for the preservation of the large game of this country and, so far as possible, to further legislation for that purpose and to assist in enforcing the existing laws. They got their chance in 1894 as poaching, logging, and business interests threatened to destroy Yellowstone National Park. Following the capture of poacher Egner Howell, Roosevelt, Grinnell, and the Boone and Crockett Club wrote editorials, lobbied Washington's rich, and gave speeches to the

politically powerful. As a result, President Grover Cleveland signed a bill for the protection of Yellowstone in 1894. When Roosevelt was suddenly catapulted into the presidency, he carried his desire to defend forests and wildlife with him. But he needed to test the waters first, move too quickly to establish preserves, and his political opponents would complain that he was violating states' rights. Having spent time as a rancher, Roosevelt understood their struggles to supply water in the American West. He hoped to find an environmentally friendly way to make their lives better. He found his test case with the Newlands Reclamation Act. The 1902 bill authorized the federal government to create water diversion and retention projects

in arid lands, something Roosevelt felt was badly needed in western states. The idea was to build water resources in areas where irrigation was difficult to encourage population growth, reclaiming them for settlement. If water wasn't helping people, Roosevelt felt, it was being wasted. The bill worked. Dry fields were transformed into green pastures, and farming families began to move in, but with them, increasing pressure on the land and waterways. Roosevelt's first move toward environmental intervention was a political success. But while his intentions were noble, what was good for humans wasn't necessarily good for

the environment. One of the projects was the Lower Yellowstone Irrigation District, which involved diverting water from the Yellowstone River to residents in North Dakota and Montana. It didn't occur to Roosevelt that hydraulic drilling could harm Yellowstone's environment. That recognition would only come generations later. Roosevelt was establishing a legacy of conservation in the presidency he had inherited. But he was facing a new election in 1904. If he was to continue this legacy, if he wanted to ensure that his country's greatest natural treasures were preserved, he'd need to win re-election.

He'd need to meet the people. He'd need to win re-election. He'd need to meet the people. He'd need to see these lands for himself. He'd need to get on a train. This is the emergency broadcast system. A ballistic missile threat has been detected inbound to your area. Your phone buzzes and you look down to find this alert. What do you do next? Maybe you're at the grocery store, or maybe you're with your secret lover, or maybe you're robbing a bank. Based on the real-life false alarm that terrified Hawaii in 2018, Incoming, a brand new fiction podcast exclusively on Wondery Plus, follows the journey of a variety of characters as they confront the unimaginable. The missiles are coming. What am I supposed to do? Featuring incredible performances from Tracy Letts, Mary Lou Henner, Mary Elizabeth Ellis, Paul Edelstein, and many, many more,

Incoming is a hilariously thrilling podcast that will leave you wondering, how would you spend your last few minutes on Earth? You can binge Incoming exclusively and ad-free on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. In November 1991, media tycoon Robert Maxwell mysteriously vanished from his luxury yacht in the Canary Islands. But it wasn't just his body that would come to the surface in the days that followed. It soon emerged that Robert's business was on the brink of collapse, and behind his facade of wealth and success was a litany of bad investments, mounting debt,

and multi-million dollar fraud. Hi, I'm Lindsey Graham, the host of Wondery Show Business Movers. We tell the true stories of business leaders who risked it all, the critical moments that define their journey, and the ideas that transform the way we live our lives. In our latest series, a young refugee fleeing the Nazis arrives in Britain determined to make something of his life. Taking the name Robert Maxwell, he builds a publishing and newspaper empire that spans the globe. But ambition eventually curdles into desperation. And Robert's determination to succeed turns into a willingness to do anything to get ahead. Follow Business Movers wherever you

get your podcasts. You can listen ad-free on the Amazon Music or Wondery app. Imagine it's November 14th, 1902, near Onward, Mississippi. You're bear hunting with a president, but it's not nearly as exciting as it sounds. The two of you have spent all morning hunkered down in a blind, keeping quiet and waiting for bears to stumble into your line of sight. It's not going well. Over the last several days, the president has shot nothing. He's clearly getting frustrated being confined to this box, hiding. The daily check-ins by reporters aren't helping. So much for my reputation as a great hunter. I wish we didn't have to stay in this damnable bear blind. I'd like to be out

there with Collier. I know, Colonel, but the other members of the party aren't as spry as you. They find it more gentlemanly for the bears to come to them. Since arriving, he's asked that no one refer to him as Mr. President. You and the locals started calling him Colonel after his time with the Rough Riders in the Spanish-American War. He sits back and grumbles. Bears are not rare in Little Sunflower. And he's right. This part of the Little Sunflower River is well populated with bears,

and you hired Holt Collier, the best bear tractor in the country, to help you. He's killed over 1,600 of them to date, and you know he's finding them. The problem is chasing them into the president's line of sight. You'll get something soon, Colonel. I'm certain. You start to hear the dogs barking the distance. I think I hear them coming. But then the sound starts to die away. They're going the other way. I'm heading back to camp to get lunch. Come get me if anything happens. He isn't gone but ten minutes when you hear it. Giant roar and the barking of dogs.

Following the horrible sounds of the animals, you find a bear attacking Collier's favorite dog. The other dogs are lunging, snapping at the bear from all directions. They're yelling as you make your way back to the campsite. We've got one, Colonel! Hurry, this way! It's monstrous! That famous smile explodes across Roosevelt's face. Bully, bully! He leaps onto his horse and you lead the way.

But it's quiet. Unusually quiet. Are you certain it was this way? That's when Collier appears and motions for you to follow him. As you get closer, you see one of the most depressing sights of your life. The black bear is tied to a tree, unconscious. Torn and bitten by the dogs, knocked out by the butt of Collier's gun, it lies barely breathing. It's 230 pounds at most,

nowhere near as big as you thought in the heat of the moment. You try to hide your disappointment and motion for the president to shoot. But when the president sees the bear, his smile recedes. His gun slumps. Go on, Colonel. Could make a nice addition to your collection. Roosevelt just shakes his head. There's no sport in this. Please, put it out of its misery. He turns his back defeated and heads back toward the camp. You suddenly understand. He isn't angry because he can't return with a nice trophy. He is upset because he respects the beasts he kills. It bothers him to see any animal humbled so unfairly.

Roosevelt's hunting trip continued for another three days, but the story spread across the country before he stepped out of the Mississippi mist. Newspapers applauded the president for his sportsmanlike refusal to kill for the sake of killing. The bear was, instead of shot in sport, euthanized in mercy. But an artist for the Washington Post lampooned the story by drawing a cartoon of Roosevelt turning away from a cuddly bear cub, refusing to shoot it. The cartoon was titled, Drawing the Line in Mississippi. In Brooklyn, New York, a candy shop owner named Morris Mitchdom saw the cartoon.

It gave him an idea. After securing permission from the president, he and his wife began producing a stuffed toy in honor of the event. They called it Teddy's Bear, and it would become one of the most popular toys in history. But Roosevelt's respect for animals did not just extend to those he hunted. By 1903, the avian population of Pelican Island, Florida, was being decimated. At the time, rare bird feathers were all the rage for women's hats. An ornithologist on Fifth Avenue once spotted the plumage of 40 different bird species in a single hour. Pelican Island was the last brown pelican breeding colony on the east coast of Florida. Without action, the extinction of the Pelican

Island birds was a certainty. Roosevelt, a bird enthusiast since childhood, was told what was happening. Pelicans were one of his favorite species. He admired the sleek way they scooped fish from the water. Sickened by this slaughter for the sake of fashion, Roosevelt sought advice. Is there any law that will prevent me from declaring Pelican Island a federal bird reservation? His advisors told him no. The island was federal property. Very well then, Roosevelt replied. I so declare it. The creation of the Pelican Island Bird Reservation was one of the first steps toward modern environmental protection and Roosevelt's first taste of the power of the

presidential pen. In time, he would learn to leverage it to meet his conservation goals. But first, he would take a trip that would change his life and redirect the efforts of the budding conservation movement, the Great Loop Tour. At the time, the Great Loop Tour was the most complex cross-country journey ever undertaken by a sitting U.S. president. The 1903 trek would take Roosevelt from Yellowstone, through the Midwest and Southwest to the Grand Canyon, and finally to Yosemite. Its goal was partly to showcase his conservation policies before the 1904 presidential election, but there was another reason. Roosevelt was genuinely eager to see the greatest natural wonders the country had to offer. Before he left, Roosevelt sent a letter to famed conservationist John Burroughs, whom

he had invited to join him in Yellowstone. The two men had been exchanging letters for years, discussing natural history. Roosevelt wrote, I am overjoyed that you can go. When I get to Yosemite, I shall spend four days with John Muir. Much though I shall enjoy that, I shall enjoy more spending the two weeks in Yellowstone with you. I doubt if there is anywhere else in the world such a stretch of wild country in which the native wild animals have become so tame, and I look forward to being with you when we can see the elk, antelope, and mountain sheep at close quarters. Roosevelt was anticipating

something else, too. He hoped to bag a cougar during his time in Yellowstone. He saw mountain lions as dangerous predators that needed to be eradicated, but he was aware of Burroughs' disgust with recreational hunting, and he knew he risked political criticism if he got caught. So he solemnly promised his friend, I will not fire a gun in the park. Then I shall have no explanations to make. Their trip to Yellowstone lasted from April 8th to the 24th. Burroughs wrote about it in his book Camping and Tramping with Roosevelt. Dressed in his khaki pants, black jacket, and stetson, Roosevelt explored caves, spied songbirds, inspected pine cones, and studied topographical aberrations, taking notes the same way he did as a child in his own Natural History Museum.

Burroughs noted that Roosevelt was evidently hungry for the wild and the aboriginal. He craved once more to be alone with nature. This surprised Burroughs, who viewed Roosevelt as an extrovert. Even more surprising was when Roosevelt sent away his Secret Service detail, non-essential personnel, and reporters for his entire stay in the park. The press was not happy. They had been sent to document Roosevelt's adventures. With little to go on, rumors began to circulate. At one point, the New York Times incorrectly printed that Roosevelt had shot a mountain lion within the park. Roosevelt was livid, but he felt it was wrong to call out a paper he had a long-standing relationship with. Upon learning the truth, the Times later published an apology and clarification.

While some papers scrimped to find even the most meager of stories, others simply became annoyed with Roosevelt's lack of transparency at Yellowstone. The New York Morning Tribune ran a piece on April 22, 1903, that mocked the wild stories circulating in the absence of real news. President Roosevelt, on his trip through Yellowstone Park, did not fall into a canyon, was not attacked by a bear, was not showered with hot liquid from a geyser, and was not almost lost in the snow. The president needs a new press agent. On his final days in Yellowstone, the locals asked Roosevelt to lay the cornerstone for a railway arch near the entrance. Unhappy to

take off his camping gear, Roosevelt reluctantly threw on a suit and headed over. Expressing his love for the park, he addressed the crowd, The Yellowstone Park is something unique in this world, as far as I know. Nowhere else in any civilized country is there to be found such a tract of veritable wonderland, made accessible to all visitors, where at the same time not only the scenery of the wilderness, but the wild creatures of the park are scrupulously preserved as they are here, the only change being that these same wild creatures have been so carefully protected as to show literally astounding tameness. After parting ways with Burroughs, Roosevelt traveled through South Dakota, Nebraska, and parts of the Midwest. He arrived at the Grand Canyon on May 6th. Roosevelt's jaw reportedly dropped in amazement when he first saw what

locals had dubbed the Big Ditch. But Roosevelt was even more shocked to discover that the state was considering opening up the canyon for mining. To protect it from such a fate, the idea of turning the Grand Canyon into a national park had first been raised back in the 1880s. But three bills had failed in Congress due to resistance across the state. At the time, the Williams Sun newspaper in northern Arizona had railed against the National Park Plan, calling it a fiendish and diabolical scheme. The paper opined in an op-ed that whoever came up with the conservation notion had obviously been suckled by a sow and raised by an idiot. The fate of Arizona depends exclusively upon the development of her mineral resources. Roosevelt disagreed with this line of reasoning.

He called for a forum of Arizona locals to discuss the Grand Canyon. I want to ask you to do one thing, in your own interest and the interest of all the country, keep this great wonder of nature as it is now. I hope you won't have a building of any kind to mar the grandeur and sublimity of the canyon. You cannot approve upon it. The ages have been at work on it, and man can only mar it. Keep it for your grandchildren, and your children's children, and all who come after you as one of the great sights for Americans to see. It would take another three years before the fate of the Grand Canyon was decided.

In the meantime, the trip through Yellowstone with Burroughs had helped confirm Roosevelt's views that the actions he took to protect nature had been justified. And the journey to the Grand Canyon had helped him recognize that even the country's greatest natural treasures were threatened by commerce and development. But it was Roosevelt's time with John Muir in Yosemite that would change the course of the American conservation movement. Roosevelt was about to learn that if he was truly going to leave a mark, he would need to do it himself. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her.

And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is The Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses, and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. And it turns out, convincing a total stranger

someone wants them dead is not easy. Follow Kill List on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery+. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. In the Pacific Ocean, halfway between Peru and New Zealand, lies a tiny volcanic island.

It's a little-known British territory called Pitcairn, and it harboured a deep, dark scandal. There wouldn't be a girl on Pitcairn once they reached the age of 10 that would still have heard it. It just happens to all of them. I'm journalist Luke Jones, and for almost two years, I've been investigating a shocking story that has left deep scars on generations of women and girls from Pitcairn. When there's nobody watching, nobody going to report it, people will get away with what they can get away with. In the Pitcairn Trials, I'll be uncovering a story of abuse and the fight for justice that has brought a unique, lonely Pacific island

to the brink of extinction. Listen to the Pitcairn Trials exclusively on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Roosevelt continued his Great Loop tour. From the Grand Canyon, he moved on to California. Heading up the Pacific coast, he made stops in Riverside, Pomona, Pasadena, and Los Angeles, eventually arriving in San Francisco on May 13th. Over 200,000 people packed the hilly streets in an attempt to see him.

Roosevelt left the city two days later to meet John Muir in the Yosemite Valley. Now an old man with a grizzled beard, Muir had dedicated his life to experiencing and preserving nature. While the main focus of Roosevelt's trip west had been pre-election appearances like the one he just made, he wanted no such thing in Yosemite. Sending a letter ahead to Muir, Roosevelt wrote, I want to drop politics absolutely for four days and just be out in the open with you. But for Muir, this trip was a chance to speak directly into the ear of the most important man in the country about his favorite topic, the preservation of Yosemite.

In 1890, Muir had successfully campaigned to protect the meadows surrounding the Yosemite Valley by getting Congress to turn them into a national park. But the move hadn't included the valley itself, or the Mariposa Grove discovered by Galen Clark. They had stayed under state control. Muir wanted Roosevelt to do something about it. Canceling a trip abroad with friends, Muir told them, An influential man from Washington wants to make a trip into the Sierra with me. I might be able to do some forest good in freely talking around a campfire. Muir saw his outing with the president as a chance of a lifetime, and he bought a brand new woolen suit for the occasion. On the morning of May 15th, Roosevelt pulled into the train station for Raymond, the last stop before Yosemite. To his

dismay, he was once again mobbed by eager supporters waving flags. A band even heralded his arrival. The president was annoyed. This was supposed to be the quiet part of his trip. He was dressed down in baggy breeches, neckerchief, and sombrero. Still, putting on a cheerful face, he greeted the crowd. His sincere delight showed through when he finally met up with Muir. Muir was less pleased.

He'd expected to have more time alone with the president, but he was quickly herded onto a stagecoach with a California governor, the Secretary of the Navy, the Surgeon General, several other politicians, advisors, journalists, photographers, and surrounding them, a small army of 30 cavalrymen. Clearly, Muir wasn't going to receive the alone time he had hoped for. The naturalist grew sullen. The president's group headed first to the Mariposa Grove that Muir loved so dearly. After taking a group photo next to the trunk of the oldest sequoia in the park, virtually all the presidential party headed back to the Wawona Hotel for a grand dinner in the president's honor. What none of them knew was that Roosevelt would not be attending.

Imagine it's May 15, 1903, and you're camping under the grizzly giant, the oldest known sequoia in the world. You are a park ranger, responsible for setting up the campsites for President Theodore Roosevelt. You've been prepping the campsites since the rest of the presidential party left, and the fire you built is blazing.

You've organized 40 thin woolen army blankets into a bed for the president. You are honored to be part of this trip, but you are also in awe of the second man you're attending to, John Muir. His name is synonymous with the park that you are dedicated to protecting. It was Muir's writing that brought this natural wonder

to your attention in the first place. You are here to assist should either of these two great men need anything, but for all intents and purposes, you are meant to be as silent as the tree you sit under. But that doesn't stop you from listening. I can't believe you don't know your bird songs. How many years have you spent within this great forest? There are birds that if I whistle a certain way, they'll answer me, I tell you. I've spent a great many years here, Mr. President. While I can't mimic Yosemite's every sound, I tell you. I've spent a great many years here, Mr. President. And while I can't mimic Yosemite's every sound, I've been lucky enough to see these lands before what they've

become. You've suspected from the way Muir has carried himself since the start of this trip, he's had something on his mind. Now it seems you'll hear it. Roosevelt sits up intrigued. And what do you mean by that? Before they've become what? When I first came here, Yosemite wasn't Eden, untouched by man. Now it's plundered by timber thieves and overrun by sheep herders. The state controllers feel they have other things too important on their minds to pay attention to an old man's worry for sacred trees. You don't feel the state is up to the task of protecting this beautiful park? My main point is to make you understand the need for preserving the forest the way it is. Well, that's been my goal for many years, preserving what we

have. True, but the state of California has turned this majestic place into farming grounds and allowed it to become a waste bin for sightseers. The roads are littered with bottles and the landscape defiled by reckless tourism. Well, what would you have me do? I can't split control between the state and federal government. Double controls will only lead to triple the troubles. I couldn't agree more. What I ask is that you return Yosemite Valley and the Mariposa Grove to federal protection. As you've done the entire evening, you remain silent.

Everything Muir has said tonight has been justified. But with Yosemite under state control, his complaints till now have fallen on deaf ears. Now, here, in front of the most powerful man in the country, he is pleading the same case. But will the president listen? Roosevelt and Muir's Yosemite visit has been called the most important camping trip in history. Afterward, Muir told friends, I never before had so interesting, hearty, and manly a companion. I fairly fell in love with him. For Roosevelt's part, it seemed his time with Muir had surpassed his expectations.

Whatever doubts he had expressed ahead of the trip in his letter to John Burroughs, he told reporters immediately afterward, It was bully. I had the time of my life. Roosevelt later wrote of Muir, he was what few nature lovers are, a man able to influence contemporary thought and action on the subjects to which he had devoted his life. He was a great factor in influencing the thought of California and the thought of the entire country so as to secure the preservation of those great natural phenomenon. Wonderful canyons, giant trees, slopes of flower-spangled hillsides, which make California a veritable garden of the Lord. Returning from his trip, Roosevelt was recharged with the love for the outdoors,

but he understood he still had work to do. The time spent with Muir had helped the president understand that Yosemite and the Mariposa Grove could not be trusted in the hands of the states. Federal intervention was required to protect these natural wonders. To keep his conservationist agenda on track, he would need to amplify it. In March 1905, Roosevelt began his second term, this time as the president the country chose. A little over a year later, he signed a pair of laws that would prove key to his environmental legacy. The Yosemite Recession Bill, signed in June 1906, took the Yosemite Valley Grant and the Mariposa Grove of giant sequoias out of the control of the state of California. Instead, it placed them solely under the protection of the federal government as Yosemite National

Park. The same month, Roosevelt signed the Antiquities Act, allowing the president to create national monuments from federal lands. The goal was to establish legal protections for important cultural and natural resources. And as soon as the law was official, Roosevelt set to work. Before the year was out, he set aside four new sites, including Devil's Tower in Wyoming, El Morro in New Mexico, and Montezuma Castle and the Petrified Forest in Arizona. Eventually, the law would be used to protect many other areas, such as South Dakota's Jewel Cave, Utah's Natural Bridges, and Washington's Mount Olympus. Another of these sites was the Grand Canyon. In January 1908, Roosevelt secured nearly 800,000 acres of the Grand Canyon

as a national monument, paving the way for Woodrow Wilson to eventually designate it a national park in 1919. Roosevelt would describe the Grand Canyon as the most beautiful scenery in the world. Roosevelt would leave behind a legacy of conservation. In the course of his presidency, he established 150 national forests, five national parks, and 18 national monuments. He protected approximately 230 million acres of public land. He saw in America's natural wonders riches that surpass material wealth.

In his view, conservation was intrinsically linked to the idea of manifest destiny. The country now stretched from coast to coast. He saw places like Yellowstone, Yosemite, and the Grand Canyon as hard-won trophies, their splendor earned through successful American expansion. The country needed to protect these natural treasures for future generations and hold them up as evidence of American greatness. Roosevelt jump-started a progressive era of environmental reform. His impact on the conservation and creation of national parks and monuments

would be felt for generations, but his record was not spotless. Just two months before Roosevelt signed the Antiquities Act, a massive earthquake rocked San Francisco and set off an epic battle to secure the city's water supply that would leave a stain on Yosemite and Roosevelt's

legacy for decades to come. On the next episode of American History Tellers, two of Roosevelt's closest allies have a philosophical falling out over a proposed dam that might save San Francisco, but drown a portion of John Muir's favorite place on Earth. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. From Wondery, this is American History Tellers. American History Tellers is hosted, sound designed,

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