An Old Timey Podcast - 112: The Rescue of Floyd Collins (Part 2)

Episode Date: July 15, 2026

In the dead of Winter, 1925, cave explorer Floyd Collins crawled, wiggled, and wormed 55 feet below the surface of a sandhole. He was on the hunt for a magnificent cave. But when his lantern began to flicker, he turned back. He re-entered the narrow passageway. In the confusion of darkness, he kicked a protruding rock. When he did, a boulder dropped on his leg. Dirt and debris buried him. Floyd Collins was trapped, 55 feet underground, in the complete dark. All he could do was scream and hope that someone would come to his rescue. Remember, kids, history hoes always cite their sources! For this episode, Norm pulled from: Collins, Homer, and John Lehrberger. The Life and Death of Floyd Collins. Cave Books, 2001.Kem, David Randolph. The Kentucky Cave Wars: The Century That Shaped Mammoth Cave National Park. David Randolph Kem, 2014.Murray, Robert K., and Roger W. Brucker. Trapped! The Story of Floyd Collins. University Press of Kentucky, 1982. https://archive.org/details/trappedstoryofst0000murr.Reilly, Lucas. “The 1925 Cave Rescue That Captivated the Nation.” Mental Floss, July 13, 2018. https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/544782/1925-cave-rescue-that-captivated-the-united-states-floyd-collins.Are you enjoying An Old Timey Podcast? Then please leave us a 5-star rating and review wherever you listen to podcasts!Are you *really* enjoying An Old Timey Podcast? Well, calm down, history ho! You can get more of us on Patreon at patreon.com/oldtimeypodcast. At the $5 level, you’ll get a monthly bonus episode (with video!), access to our 90’s style chat room, plus the entire back catalog of bonus episodes from Kristin’s previous podcast, Let’s Go To Court.

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I'm Normy C. And I'm Kristen Caruso. And on this episode, I'll be talking about the rescue of Floyd Collins. Norm, Norm, Normy C. Boy, am I worried for you? Why? Because you have already confided in me, sir. This is, you know, pretty intense episode, pretty serious stuff.

But you, I hate to tell on you. I don't hate to tell on him. You're in a goofy mood. Right before we started recording. Well, first of all, you're wearing a howdy shirt. This is the shirt I got at Disney World. It has Daffy Duck wearing a... Donald Duck, Kristen.

Excuse me. I'm so sorry. They look the same to me. Anyway, wearing a cowboy hat. And then you started singing a Christmas song. You mentioned Michael Bouble. It was too much. I'm worried you're not going to be able to rain it in.

Nope. No, I'm just excited to bring another episode of an old-timey podcast to our loyal history hose because I work for you. Very good. And I work at getting the money out of your pocket and into mine. Head on over to patreon.com slash old-timey podcast. That's where you can get bonus episodes of this show, video episodes so you can see us telling you the tales. And you can get a card with our autographed.

and a sticker. You can get into the Discord to chitty chat the day away. You can play trivia with us. You can also get early, ad-free episodes of this podcast, and you get them with the Slop. That's the special bonus segment at the very end. And if you're thinking, Slop, that sounds disgusting. Well, you're rude and wrong.

But you're sometimes right. It is sometimes we say gross stuff. May I read you my favorite comment on last week's episode, Norm? Yeah, sure. So we posted last week's episode, part one of this series, and Jessica on Patreon said, this episode made me so physically uncomfortable. Jessica, I feel the same way. The idea of this man being stuck in this teeny tiny cave made me so uncomfortable, but I am excited to hear what happens next.

Yeah, we actually had a few listeners say they were going to skip this series because they were uncomfortable with the thought of a man being trapped in. a cave. And hey, I totally understand. Norm, I think you need to be harder on the history hos. If anyone says they're going to skip an episode, you need to call them a disloyal ho. You need to say, oh, so you want a woman trapped in a cave? Is that what you're saying? You know, just totally misunderstand them. Yeah, let me get upset at our fans. These hos aren't loyal, number one. Uh-huh. Now, I get it. It's a very, uh, it's a scary situation that a lot of people wouldn't want to be in. Frankly, I don't think I'll ever go in another cave again.

Oh, yes, you will. And I'm just constantly going in caves. We've got to do social media posts. We're going into caves and taking photos. Can you imagine how hard the internet would laugh at us if we, as two wannabe influencers, got stuck in a cave doing photos for our podcast episodes about a guy who gets stuck in a cave? We would be known for that, for the rest of eternity. Yeah.

There'd be so many AI videos on YouTube detailing our tragic downfall. Uh-huh. You know. No one would feel sorry for us. No one. They'd be like two podcasters? Yeah. Dime a dozen, if you ask me.

Their dogs are better off. Anyway, let me tell you about the rescue of Floyd Collins. But before I do that, let's recap part one. And by the way, I was inspired by your sister, Kyla Pitts-Zevon, the mayor, of an old-timey podcast. Yeah, every good podcast has a mayor, and we are no exception. She recorded a two-part series for us recently, and she did a recap in part two, and it was three sentences.

It was so embarrassing. I was like, what wizardry is this? She was so concise, so on the ball, and it humiliated us because she was better at our jobs than we are, and we've been doing this professionally for a long time. I know. Uh, mine is not three sentences, but it is shorter than it usually is. So you're no mayor. Let's get into it.

Previously, on an old-timey podcast. In south central Kentucky lies Mammoth Cave, 426 miles of underground passageways filled with crystals, wildflowers, and amazing rock formations. Today, Mammoth Cave is a national park, but back in the early 20th century, it was the site of a fierce competition known as the Kentucky Cave War. Mammoth Cave was easily the most popular attraction, but that didn't stop locals from battling it out to find the best caves in the area and sell tickets to tourists. And one competitor was 37-year-old Floyd Collins. Floyd had been caving his whole life. He had a reputation for being a daredevil, a risk-taker, one of the best cavers in the region. Floyd had discovered a few caves over the years, but none had been commercially successful.

but in January of 1925, Floyd thought he had a winner. He was exploring a sandhole on a neighbor's property, not far from the main road. Floyd believed that that sandhole would lead to a massive limestone cavern below, and after a few weeks of digging, he was ready to make the final push. On Friday, January 30, 1925, Floyd Collins crawled, wiggled, and wormed 55 feet below the surface. He squeezed through passageways, not more than 10 inches high. At the bottom, he slipped through a crack no bigger than a waste basket, which led him to a ledge, and down below an 80-foot-deep pit.

If there was a cave here, it was even further down. But Floyd had to turn back. His lantern was beginning to flicker, a sign to get the fudge out of there. Floyd got back into the tight, narrow passageway, head first on his back. He pressed his feet against the walls to push himself upward. He was nearing the bottom of a 10-foot pit that would send him up and toward the exit of Sand Cave. But in the confusion of darkness, Floyd accidentally kicked a protruding rock in the ceiling. A massive boulder dropped and pinned his left leg into place.

Floyd tried to kick out of it, but the more he struggled, the more loose rock and debris fell and covered him. Floyd Collins was trapped. 55 feet underground in the complete dark. What? I thought you were inspired by Kyla being concise in her interest. I'm sorry. This is concise for me, okay? Keep going, please.

Floyd Collins was trapped, 55 feet underground, in the complete dark, the earth squeezing him to death, and all he could do was scream. On this episode of an old-timey podcast, the rescue of Floyd Collins begins. Well, I guess the reviews are in, folks. That was, you just kept going at first. For a second, I was like, oh, I should count how many sentences it is because, you know, Kyla did hers in three. Norm said he was inspired.

Maybe his will be like five or six. And then I was like, oh, my lord. Yep, I failed that one, folks. Oh, boy. Back to the drawing board. Oh, there's his confidence. It's way too high as usual. Grab that cane, yank me off stage.

No. We'd love to yank you off stage, but unfortunately you kicked the wrong boulder and you're stuck out there. Wow. That's not funny, Kristen. Sorry. Too soon. Too soon. It was like 100 years ago. It was 1001 years ago. I'm safe by one year, I think. All right, let's get into it, Kristen.

Saturday, January 31st, 1925. Farmer B. Doyle realized Floyd Collins had still not returned from Sand, Kee. cave. Since the cave was on B. Doyle's property, Floyd had been staying at his house while working for the past week. But Floyd had never been gone this long. B. Doyle began to worry. So that morning, he visited his neighbor, Edward Estes. Perhaps Floyd was at his house? You seen Floyd? B asked Edward. No, I figured he was at your place, replied Edward. Floyd Collins. Yeah! But he's wearing a cute little trench coat and a hat.

You wish Is he wearing a Daffy Duck shirt? Donald Donald Duck, Kristen. Norm, I confess that was me rage baiting you. That's big right now on the internet, rage baiting. Oh, we're trying to get bigger, you know? That's why I did it.

It's all an internet thing, sir. I tell you what, I know how to rage bait some of our listeners. I just need to purposefully pronounce the names of small towns incorrectly. That's rage bait right there. See, I don't know. I don't get offended. Like, if I mispronounce a town name and somebody comes from me, I'm like, yeah, that sounds about right. But you really, you take it hard.

It's really just my own internal struggles of like, I'm so stupid. How could I not know this? That's all. No, please keep sending me your corrections. Spank my little bare bottom. Folks, he can't handle it. I can. Anyway, B. Doyle and Edward,

Estes were looking for Floyd Collins. Well, they knew where to look first, Sand Cave. B. Doyle, Edward Estes, and Edward's 17-year-old son, Jewel, headed to Sand Cave. When they arrived at the entrance, they spotted Floyd's wool jacket hanging on a rock. Oh, boy. It was at that point they knew Floyd Collins was probably stuck inside the cave. So the three men yelled into the opening. Floyd!

Floyd! No response. They would have to go in deeper. The three men got into their hands and knees and nervously crawled inside Sand Cave. It was unlike any cave they had ever been in. The passageways narrowed as they pressed forward. When they reached the first squeeze, a narrow vertical drop, B. Doyle and Edward Estes were like...

I'm out. Yeah, me too. Yeah. There was no way they were going to keep going through that. It was now up to the teenager, Jule Estes. No, it's not. Get that kid out of there. Well, Jule was a skinny fella.

He was able to squeeze through those squeezes. He kept going further and further down, shouting for Floyd as he moved. As the passageway got narrower and darker and deeper, Jules' anxiety spiked. Finally, near the second squeeze, Jule heard a reply from his shouts. Come to me! I'm hung up.

Oh, my God. Floyd Collins was thrilled to hear somebody's voice. For the past 24 hours, he had gone through a cycle of screaming, clawing at the sides of the passageway until his fingers bled and falling asleep. All while drops of water continuously hit his face. Oh, I forgot about the waterboarding. Yeah. But now that someone finally knew he was down there, a rescue operation could begin. Is that you, Floyd?

Joel called out. Yep. Bring some tools. My foot's caught on a rock. And I could use some food as well. Come on down. But Jule Estes refused to go any further. He confessed to Floyd.

I'm sorry, Floyd. I can't come down. I'm too scared. Yeah. Floyd frustratingly snapped back. Go get Johnny Gerald. So let's talk about Johnny Gerald. I just, I know we're getting really country now.

Why? Because that's a country thing when you've got two first names. Really? Johnny Gerald? You're from North Carolina. Didn't you know a bunch of Beth Ann's, Sue Ann's? I don't know why it's always Ann. Let me think.

Yep, I did. I mean, my mom and her brothers, like, they were all called by their first and middle names. That's country. I'm thinking of my best friend growing up, and he had two first names. You're right, Kristen. So let's talk about this southern fella, Johnny Gerald. By day, he was a car salesman and real estate agent, but on the side he liked to go caving, sometimes with his friend Floyd Collins.

And like Floyd, Johnny Gerald was also interested in setting up a caving business. Floyd thought, if anyone could get him out of Sand Cave, it would be his friend and caving buddy, Johnny Gerald. But Jules Estes didn't know where Johnny Gerald was. my paws here, and so is Mr. Doyle. We can probably get some others, said Jewel. Well, go, boy, and hurry. Get my brothers, Homer and Marshall,

or anyone else that'll come, Floyd yelled. So Joel Estes scurried back up and out of sand cave, wet, shivering, covered in mud. He told his father and B. Doyle the situation. So the two men hopped on their horses and quickly rode four miles down the road to the Collins homestead. And there, Daddy Leonidas Lee Collins was getting ready to eat breakfast when he spotted the two men pulling up. What's up, Ed? asked Lee. Floyd's hung up in the cave and needs help, replied Edward.

Lee Collins's demeanor immediately changed. He got angry. He shook his head. I knew something like this was going to happen, he yelled. Lee Collins was too old and physically unable to do any kind of rescuing, but Floyd's brothers, Homer and Marshall, would be a massive help. Unfortunately, Homer Collins was away in Louisville, buying himself a new car. By the way, hashtag mistakes of shame on my part, Kristen. Last week, I pronounced it Louisville. Oh, that's why you're extra sensitive about town names. It's not just Cairo, Illinois that we messed up.

Cairo, Kristen. They'll come for you like they did for me. I pronounced it Louisville. I guess the locals pronounce it Louisville. Louisville. I'm sorry, I am deeply ashamed. So yeah, Homer was out of town in Louisville, but luckily, Marshall Collins was around.

When he heard the news, he sprung into action. He gathered his things and took off for Sand Cave. and physically, Marshall Collins was the perfect size for Sand Cave. Norman, I'm telling you, if I lived in Kentucky in this time period and the Kentucky Cave Wars were in full swing, I would be mainlining donuts so fast, I'd be dunking them in butter. Because no, when they're looking for someone to shimmy down a cave, I'll be like, I'm sorry, I just can't.

I would love to. I'd love to be your hero, baby, but I cannot. Kristen, let's hear it for the boys. It was a dude's activity crawling around in caves, I feel like. They're not going to send little old Kristen down to go rescue Floyd. Okay, that's great. You guys, you know, get drafted, whatever, sure. Well, no, there's certain and children.

Skinny little boys. Back then, 17 was basically 42, okay? He's a middle-aged man. So, yeah, Marshall Collins was a good size for Sand Cave. He was actually the smallest Collins brother. Now, he wasn't the most experienced caver, but he knew the basics. So without hesitation, Marshall lit a lantern and he entered Sand Cave. He wiggled on down, yelling for his brother, Floyd! Floyd!

And eventually Marshall heard a faint reply. Over here! Marshall crawled forward, following the sound of Floyd's voice, to the top of the 10-foot pit. He peered down into complete darkness. Even when he used his lantern, Marshall couldn't see a thing. But Floyd was definitely down there. Marshall tried to squeeze himself in, but he didn't fit. Unfortunately, that 10-foot pit had caved in slightly

when Floyd thrashed around trying to free himself the previous day. Gasping for air, Marshall said, How in the hell did you get down there? Marshall would have to widen the pit opening. So he took his crowbar, and he started, Diggin. Dig, dig, dig, dig is what we like to do. Yeah.

For the next three hours, Marshall Collins dug out that pit. Other men showed up as well to help, carrying dirt back out of Sand Cave. But eventually, Marshall got exhausted and he had to take a break. He promised Floyd someone would come back for him. But who? News of Floyd Collins' predicament had spread throughout the Mammoth Cave region. Slowly, more and more men showed up to Sand Cave ready to help. But no one who entered San Cave was able to actually reach Floyd Collins.

It was either physically impossible or their nerves got the best of them. One man who tried refused to go back in, stating, quote, I wouldn't go back in there for a cold thousand bad as I need money. By the afternoon, a crowd was gathered outside of San Cave. men huddled around campfires, chit-chatting about what to do while swigging whiskey from bottles. That was when Floyd's brother, Homer Collins, finally arrived. He had heard the news from a kid at the gas station when he was putting gas in his brand-new Ford Model T. Homer had the most caving experience in the Collins family, besides Floyd, of course.

He was the youngest, only 22 years old. He had a slim, 160-pound frame, making him ideal for his own. this kind of operation. I don't think anything could have prepared Homer Collins for what he was about to experience. He grabbed a lantern and entered Sand Cave, crawling and wiggling his way down, horrified by the conditions of the passageway. Homer just couldn't believe that this was the cave Floyd had been exploring. No wonder he got stuck.

When Homer reached that 10-foot pit, he had to strip down to his undies just to fit inside. He sucked in his chest and squeezed down, tearing his skin on rocks as he descended. When Homer reached the bottom, he contorted his body to a near impossible position to kneel down. And there he finally saw his brother, Floyd, entombed in piles of gravel. His left legs stuck under a boulder. His arms pinned at his sides. It was horrifying. But Homer knew that time was of the essence.

And so he did the only thing he could do. Now it's starting to feel ominous. Starting to feel like a Disney movie, maybe? A little bit. Homer yelled up the cave for a bucket, and he got to work in what must have been frustrating conditions. I don't even know the right word to describe it. You know, he could only kneel down so far to remove ground.

gravel from Floyd's head and his upper body. So that made the work incredibly slow and exhausting. So I'm going to visualize it for you here, Kristen. Here's the 10-foot pit. Yep. And then Floyd's laying in a passageway at the bottom like this at an angle. Right. So you've got to slide down the pit.

Oh, my God. Bend down and somehow dig gravel out of that angled passageway where Floyd's laying down. Yeah. While Homer worked, Floyd asked for food. He had not had anything to eat or drink in over 24 hours. Unless you count the drops of water that occasionally fell into Floyd's mouth. So food was passed down to him. Homer had to feed Floyd like a baby.

Are you ready to hear what they fed Floyd? Oh my God. Did they feed him stupid stuff? Floyd ate nine sausage sandwiches. Oh my God. And a pint of coffee. Is he going to make everybody pass out? I got to say, seems like a dangerous game to play in that tight little cage.

Nine sausage sandwiches. Was there no one? I'm sorry. Was there no one who was like, you know what? I get the urine bring, but we got to space this out. Maybe just eat one sandwich for it. You know those cave. bugs are in there being like,

What is that f*** up smell in my crib, yo? I mean, truly washed it down with coffee, too. Oh my. After feeding Floyd, Homer kept working, slowly filling up

one bucket after another with gravel. But it was one of those tasks that felt never ending, like he just wasn't getting anywhere. Because as Homer removed rock, Moore just fell around him. Yeah. His hands turned raw from digging and being only in his underwear in that cold, damp tunnel, it made him shiver, his shoulders and back ached from the awkward position he was in.

As Homer worked, Floyd chit-chatted. He described what he had found, that massive 80-foot pit just beyond the passageway. I know it leads to a big cave, said Floyd. Oh my God. But I got to find me a better way down to it. I'll sure never come this way again. For the next 12 hours, Homer worked to free his brother, occasionally leaving Sand Cave to take breaks. When he would rest by a campfire outside the entrance, he was peppered with questions from spectators. Above all, Homer Collins didn't want people to give up on his brother. So he did a little PR work, Kristen, which I'm sure you can appreciate. He told everyone, oh, it's really not that bad, no need to be alarmed. I think Floyd's going to be out of here in no time. But, you know, anyone who had actually gone into Sand Cave,

they knew what a serious situation this was. By sunrise, Homer Collins was spent. Floyd finally had to tell him to leave and go get some rest. See if he can't get Johnny Gerald to come help, remarked Floyd. But unfortunately, up to that point, no one had been able to locate Johnny Gerald. Before he left, Homer placed a burlap sack over Floyd's head to stop the water from dripping on him. Where's that water coming from? Floyd asked.

The ice and snow are melting, said Homer. If this keeps up, you'll have to timber the passageway to keep it from caving in. Oh, my God. That's what made this passageway so dangerous. You know, most caves in the mammoth cave area are made of solid limestone, you know. They're much safer. But sand cave, again, generous to call this a cave.

It was nothing but piles of rocks and mud. I mean, I was even going to say something earlier when you were talking about them going into the cave. And I'm thinking, can you really call it a cave when it's just something some guy has dug? Like, it's a tunnel he dug. It's a sandhole that Floyd dug out. That he hopes leads to a cave, which to me, like, that's not a cave, dude. Yeah. It's just not.

So no one had called it Sand Cave until the media started reporting on this story. And it just earned the name Sand Cave. But yeah, it's not really a cave in the traditional sense. Was Homer the one who coined that? I'm not sure where the term, who came up with the. term sand cave. It's actually pronounced Sondkov. Sondkov. And I can't believe you've made this mistake. Well, par for the course for me, Kristen. Let's move on. Water infiltration put the passageway at serious risk of a cave in. Floyd's teeth chattered. I'm awful cold. I got to get warm.

Maybe a whiskey toddy like mom used to make would help me out. Homer Nogh. Hears welled up in his eyes. At that moment, he felt like the situation was completely hopeless. And then he left. Homer emerged from Sand Cave at sunrise, a broken man. He was exhausted to the point of collapsing, covered in mud, bits of skin falling off his hands and body. But Homer had actually made some decent progress. Floyd's upper body was now completely uncovered.

But the biggest hurdle still remained, that massive boulder pinning Floyd's left leg. Sunday, February 1st, 1925. While Homer Collins rested from his night of work, the crowd at San Cave got bigger and rowdier. Boo's bottles of whiskey and moonshine were passed around in plain sight, despite prohibition being in effect, Chris. And can you believe this? I can't believe it. In Kentucky? Do they think there are no rules?

Of all places. Probably the driest state in the union. I know. Most of these men just chit-chatted, coming up with ridiculous ideas to save Floyd Collins. Would you like to hear a few? Oh, yeah, a bunch of drunk guys sitting around a campfire. What'd they come up with? Let's try dynamite.

Sure. Yeah. Let's just blow some holes down there and he'll come crawling up. Well, we'll just hope and pray that we don't get him with the dynamite. Thoughts and prayers to Floyd Collins As I like this piece Okay, how about Blow torches?

What are they going to do with the blow torches? Well, you use the blow torch on the rock It'll soften the rock up And then you can chip away at it Well, it's not an ice cube I mean, then you're just going to have a really hot rock Do you know how hot the blow torch Has to be to like affect the rock?

Probably way hotter than a blow torch can go. About like 6,000 degrees. Okay, good. They would probably melt Floyd's skin off. You would definitely set the man on fire. One fella had probably the best idea of all. Was it feed him 18 sausage sandwiches and just let nature take its course? No. All we got to do is untie Floyd's left shoe and he'll just slide right out. You know what? No. I love it. And I love this man. I love, I love anyone who's like, oh, this is a really serious, terrible situation.

We've had our best and brightest on this. Have you tried this really stupid opposite? It's worth trying. Okay. All you got to do is dig to Floyd's left shoe and untie it. And then he'll slip right out. You know, I don't mean to blame Floyd, but I really think he should have thought of this. he should have thought to untie his shoe and just slip on out of there.

But I know he loves his left shoe more than his right one. This is why all cavers should be wearing sketchers or crocs. Just anything that they can slip in and out of? Yeah. But they also need this really smart guy to be like, hey, hey, slip out of the crock. Let the crock go. Just pull your foot out of your shoe, Floyd. I'm standing up at the top of this case.

with a spare pair of crocks for you. You know what I immediately thought of? What? There's a great joke in the Simpsons when Homer gets his hand stuck in a vending machine. Uh-huh. And it's not that he was stuck. He was holding on to an item in the vending machine.

All he just let go. Norm, that is exactly what is happening here. Yeah. So, yeah, these drunk Yehu's outside the same cave. No, there are no bad ideas in drunken brainstorming, Norm. They were of no help, Kristen. But there were a few brave men who attempted to reach Floyd Collins and actually help. But they could only get so far as that 10-foot pit before turning back.

A few of them stayed to talk with Floyd, who was by now growing irritated at the lack of progress. Why does everybody just stay up there and talk, he asked. The hole's too damn tight, that's why, said one rescuer. Tight, tight, tight, yeah. What's that from? Breaking bad. You weirdo. I know.

I know. My mind just goes to places when I see words. Spirits were lifted that day, Kristen, when a couple of Mammoth Cave guides arrived. Sleeves rolled up, ready to save Floyd Collins. All right. But when those guides reached the 10-foot pit, they were both like, I changed my mind. I don't blame them.

Said one guide, quote, I've been caving for 28 years, and I've never seen anything like it. How Floyd come to get back in there, I'll never know. Yeah. Another rescuer commented that Floyd had wiggled his way down there, quote, like a rat going through a corn pile. That painted quite an image. It sure did. I do love little southern phrases like that, like a duck on a June bug. Uh-huh.

You know, something like that. Yeah, I get it, Bobby Joe. Mm-hmm. Sadly, nothing of real substance happened that Sunday. Homer Collins returned to Sand Cave at around 5 p.m., ready to keep working. And he was hopeful that others had made progress while he was gone. But when he entered Sand Cave again, he was dismayed to see lots of abandoned food and blankets scattered along the passageway. Nobody had been able to reach his brother.

Homer squeezed down into the pit once again and got to work. At first he tried using a hammer and chisel on that giant four-foot boulder on the ceiling, hoping to clear some room above Floyd. But the cramped spaces prevented Homer from getting a good swing with his hammer. Floyd also told him not to do that because he feared the boulder would just collapse onto him. Yeah. And that would just kill him instantly. Right.

So Homer quickly abandoned that idea, and he got back to digging. Four hours later, there was progress. Floyd's hands were now visible. Homer had cleared enough gravel to be able to squeeze over top of Floyd's body to start working on his lower half. But for now, Homer needed a break. He returned to the surface and rested by a campfire. His brother Marshall sat next to him, asking how everything was going. Homer could only shake his head. Daddy Lee Collins was there too. You know, he's not your daddy.

You don't have to call him that. It's just a friendly reminder to our listeners to help them understand who this person is. Because there's a lot of names in this story. And so if I say Daddy Lee Collins, you know he is the father of Floyd Collins. I wish I could argue with you. Storytelling 101, Kristen. So yeah, Daddy Lee Collins was there. But if you think there's going to be any sort of words of encouragement from dad, think again.

Instead, Daddy Lee started preaching about how Floyd being trapped down there was God's will. And then maybe we should all just move on. Oh, my God. Homer and Marshall looked up enraged. Yes. Telling their father. Bitch, let me tell you something. Truly.

Let me tell you something, you shut the fuck up with your weakness. If Tiffany New York had been there, she would have taken care of it. Hell yeah, she would have. The crowd of tipsy spectators began gathering around the Collins men as they shouted at each other. Frustrated by the situation, Marshall Collins eventually yelled out to the crowd, I'll give $500 to anyone who can get my brother out of that cave. Yeah.

But just for inflation? About $10,000. Okay. That's about 5,000 soft tacos from Taco Bell. See, now I understand the value. Mm-hmm. And that's when a hero emerged. Are we going to get demonetized on YouTube

because you insisted on playing clips like this? Absolutely, and it's going to be worth it. A local fella named Clyde Hester stepped forward and declared, I'll do it. Clyde Hester assembled a rag-tag crew and off they went into Sand Cave. Everyone outside waited with bated breath. But to their surprise, only moments later, Clyde Hester reemerged, looking relatively unscathed. Welp, Floyd's dead.

Homer couldn't believe it. Marshall started crying. Daddy Lee Collins prayed. A coroner on the scene needed someone to verify that claim, so a man named Hooper volunteered to check it out. He crawled and wiggled down to the 10-foot pit and called down. Hey, Floyd, are you there? For a moment, there was no reply. But then, a faint voice called back. I'm hungry. Bring me something to eat. Hooper was relieved. Floyd Collins was still alive. Hooper squeezed down into the pit to give Floyd some coffee

from his thermos. At first, Floyd thought Hooper was his old friend, Johnny Gerald. Johnny, thank God you've come. I think Floyd's mind was starting to play tricks on him now. Yeah, I mean, he'd been through a lot. Yeah, Johnny Gerald was still MIA at this point. I'm not Johnny, replied Hooper, but I am here to help. He gave Floyd's sips of coffee as he looked around at the situation. Every fiber in Hooper's body told him to get the fuck out of there.

Yeah. But he stayed, and he asked Floyd, has Clyde Hester been here? I ain't seen Clyde Hester, replied Floyd. After giving Floyd some coffee, Hooper quickly made his escape. As he emerged from Sand Cave, he yelled out, Where's Hester? He's a goddamn liar. Yeah.

But of course, Clyde Hester had slunked out. He knew the jig was up when the coroner was like, we better verify this. What a terrible thing to do? I know. What if no one had verified? He would have gotten 500 bucks from the Collins, and he probably would have skis.

skip town. Re-energized by the news that Floyd was still alive, Homer went back into Sand Cave that night to remove more gravel. As he worked, Floyd fell in and out of consciousness. He shivered from the dropping temperatures. He prayed, begging for God to help him. He began hallucinating about angels and food and the comforts of home. Oh God, Homer, please take me home to bed, Floyd mumbled. Homer said nothing. He preferred to just focus on the work. It was less painful that way. Monday, February 2nd, 1925. That morning, Homer Collins was resting by a campfire when a small 21-year-old man with sandy blonde hair pulled up and sat next to him. Excuse me, I hear you're the brother of the fella who's trapped in the cave. I'm from the Courier Journal in

Louisville. Is your brother still alive? The reporter's name was William Miller. His friends called him Skeets. That was short for mosquito because he was apparently, quote, no bigger than a mosquito. Cute. Remember Skeeter from Doug? I do. You know, his first name was mosquito. No, it wasn't. It was Mosquito Valentine. Okay. You better believe me, look at the cred I have on here. I know. I'm just really impressed is what's happening to me in my body right now. Feeling some tingling. Oh, the tingles. Like, you wouldn't believe.

I'm like, I'm married to this guy. Do we need to take a 30-second break? You know what? Make it 40. That's all it's going to take. William Miller was there because the editors of his paper, the Courier Journal in Louisville, wanted to verify this story. As you can probably guess, there were always a lot of wild stories

coming out of the mammoth cave area, and many of them were not true. So initially, when the editors of the career journal heard that a man named Floyd Collins was stuck in a cave, they were at first like... It's a made-up tale. It's a total fabrication.

It never happened. This one was invented by a writer. Not this time. It never happened. What is that? Do you remember that show Beyond Belief, Factor Fiction? No. Oh, so they would like tell stories and at the end you would find out if it was true or it was made up and the hosts would always do that.

That is wonderful. What you just heard? It's pure fiction. It never happened. Was he in an alleyway wearing a trench coat during the end? He was in like a dark moody room. Oh, of course he was. Fake smoke behind him.

No, it was real. It was great. That's a great show. But still, reports. of Floyd Collins kept pouring in. Some of them were wildly inaccurate. One report claimed Floyd was actually already free. Jewel Estes had managed to drag him out of there. So naturally, the Courier Journal newspaper, they wanted to get to the bottom of this story, and so they sent their youngest reporter, William Skeets Miller, to check it out. Miller wasn't exactly passionate

about his reporting career. He considered it only a temporary gig. He probably thought, that this was just another day on the job when he approached Homer Collins by that campfire outside of Sand Cave. Homer Collins looked up at the small-framed Miller, wearing his fancy boy city clothes and brimmed hat, holding a notebook and pencil, just another guy who wasn't here to help. All talk, no action. Homer Collins pointed over to Sand Cave and told Miller, there's the hole right over there. You can go down and find out for yourself. He's not really going to do that. And then to Homer's surprise,

William Miller started taking off his coat, and he headed over toward the entrance to Sand Cave. To be clear, William Miller had zero experience caving. Good grief. Zero. But thanks to his small stature, Miller was willing to give it a shot. They didn't call him skeets for nothing, Kristen.

Miller was 5'5, and he weighed 117 pounds soaking wet. Wow. When he was later asked why he went in, Miller said, I guess I was ashamed not to. Besides, you want to talk about getting info from the source? What better way to do it than to talk to the man himself, Floyd Collins? I mean, what a scoop. Kristen, you're going to do this for your, back in your journalism days?

Would you have crawled into a cave? Hell no. Hell no, I'm sorry to say. And I really enjoyed that job. Oh, that's right. You would have been dunking donuts into, what, chocolate milk or something? Sure, whatever. Yeah.

Dunking donuts and butter. No, if you're a reporter, you have the perfect excuse, which is like I'm not supposed to be part of the story. I'd love to go down there. Boy, would I. I'd love to pull him. You know what? I'm just going to take his left shoe off is what I'm going to do. As you're eating a donut.

Journalistic integrity. I'm not part of this story. Oh, I'm sorry. Was this sausage sandwich for Floyd? Oh, it's really good. You would be eating the sausage sandwiches? I know how much you like a sausage. That's enough, Norman.

So yeah, William Miller's going into Sand Cave. But even for the tiny William Miller, Sand Cave was pretty horrifying. Well, of course it was horrifying. Even though he was small, this horrifying thing was in fact, horrifying. Of course it was. I'm just saying for how small he was.

No, no one is small enough for this to be, like, cute. That's the point I'm making, Christ. Okay. Okay. Miller wiggled his way through the muddy passageway alone, fighting every urge in his body to turn around and leave. He dropped into the 10-foot pit and reached the bottom. He knelt down and crawled forward until a big, wet mass blocked his way. In the dark, Miller tried to move it. But to his surprise, it groaned. Oh, you're hurting me. It was Floyd Collins. Miller fumbled around for his flashlight and finally shined a light. And finally shined a light. on the area. Author Robert Murray said that Miller, quote, could not imagine a more terrifying place. As he looked around, he was overcome with nausea. His survival instinct told him to flee, but the reporter in him forced him to remain. For the next 10 minutes, William Miller sat and talked with Floyd Collins. He didn't get much out of him. Floyd kind of seemed drugged up, like out of it.

Well, yeah. All he could say was, he was cold and hungry. He was exhausted. He was clearly fading away. After a brief chat, Miller gave Floyd some words of encouragement, and then he cheezed it on out of Sand Cave as fast as he could.

When Miller emerged, he sat, buried his head between his knees, and wept. What an awful, awful situation. Miller then gathered himself and returned to Cave City to send his report back to the Courier Journal. in Louisville. And as Miller

left the Sand Cave area, another man arrived in the hopes of saving Floyd Collins. It was Lieutenant Robert Burden of the Louisville Fire Department. Lieutenant Burton was a volunteer on the Fire Rescue Squad. He was 33 years old,

six feet tall, a lean 140 pounds. Oh my. And he was armed with a compressed air drill. Lieutenant Burden was supremely confident. He, could get Floyd Collins out of Sand Cave. And if he did, he was definitely in line for a...

Promotion! Great. Whatever it takes to motivate people. Put it on the resume. But when Lieutenant Burden reached Floyd at the bottom of Sand Cave, his mind quickly changed. Dear God, he had never seen someone in a bigger pickle than Floyd Collins. And Lieutenant Burden could forget about using that compressed air drill. just not enough room down there.

Lieutenant Burden also had to contend with a horrendous smell from Floyd soiling himself over and over and over trapped in that tight space. He spoke briefly with Floyd. Then he looked around with his flashlight. Well, Floyd, he said, we've got a hell of a problem here, but I think we can get you out with a rope. The only thing is, we might pull your foot off. Okay.

Thoughts? Yeah, I've got thoughts. I think that there could be nothing scarier than being Floyd right now. And especially now, you know, maybe he's conscious, maybe he's not. Maybe he's with it. Maybe he's not. I just think as a rescuer, sure, maybe you have that thought. Like, yeah, we could maybe get him out of here, but he's going to need to lose his leg.

I don't know what you get by telling him that, though. Sure, especially in his current state. He's very out of it. Well, and I mean, I'm thinking maybe there's a benefit to being a little out of it when someone says something that's stupid. But I'm, I guess I'm kind of like, wouldn't it be better to get down there, give the guy some kind of drug, I don't know what, and then, yeah, yake him out of there, the thoughts and prayers to his foot and just try to save him. Well, regardless of his state of mind, Floyd Collins didn't seem to care about losing his foot in that moment. Of course not. He said, pull my foot off, but get me out of here.

Right. Back on the surface, Lieutenant Burden took charge and called for a meeting of the minds to decide what to do next. Homer, Marshall, and Daddy Lee Collins were there. So you know what I'm talking about. Who? Daddy Lee. Yes. William Skeets Miller also joined the group, having returned from filing his news story.

And finally, there was a new face. The much-talked about Johnny Gerald finally showed up to Sam Cade. About damn time, Johnny Gerald. It's about damn time. Take off your wool coat. Get in the cave. Well done, Norm. I've got a feeling Floyd's going to be all right.

All right. It's about dead time. So where the heck had Johnny Gerald been? On Saturday, while Floyd Collins demanded that Jules Estes go find Johnny Gerald, the man himself was returning from out of town. Gerald had stopped to visit a neighbor who asked him if he heard about Floyd getting stuck in a cave. Johnny Gerald said no, and he didn't think much of it, because Floyd Collins had been trapped in a cave plenty of times.

In fact, one time Floyd got caught. up in Crystal Cave for over 24 hours before he got himself out. Later that night at a restaurant, Gerald casually asked the waiter if they had any updates on Floyd. The waiter said, last he heard, Floyd would be out by dark. So Johnny Gerald just went home and he went to sleep. But the next day, Johnny Gerald heard that Floyd was still trapped and that he was asking specifically for him. So he eventually made his way to Sand Cave, armed with tools ready to help. So Lieutenant Burden went over the situation. The compressed air drill I brought, it's not going to work.

They could try a rope, but they risk pulling Floyd's foot off. They could also try digging a rescue shaft. So they would have to drill 60 feet down and rescue Floyd that way. basically like dig out like a six by six shaft all the way down. But you'd really be risking knocking a bunch of debris loose and killing him that way. Yep. That's why Homer Collins said. Yeah. Yeah. Homer was really concerned about the terrain.

Plus, it would take way too long to dig that far down. Any heavy machinery working close to Sand Cave could potentially cause a cave in. and then Floyd would just be trapped permanently. Johnny Gerald agreed a shaft was a bad idea. Then another idea got floated around. What if they could get a doctor down there to amputate Floyd's leg? Okay, we need the tiniest doctor in all the land, also the bravest. It's in the palm of my hand.

Yeah, so that would be quite a wild ask for a doctor. Mm-hmm. So not only would they have to steal themselves to make it down to Floyd Collins, they would have to amputate his leg in an extremely cramped area. And even if they managed to cut off his leg, Floyd would more than likely bleed out before they got him out of the cave. Yeah. So the group put it up to a vote.

Kristen, what would you do? Okay, give me the options again. Amputate. Amputate his leg. Uh-huh. dig a rescue shaft, tie him to a rope and try and pull him out. Uh-huh. Or just keep doing what they're doing.

Tie him to a rope and try to pull him out. Very good. That is what they decided to try and do. Only one man objected to the idea that was Johnny Gerald. He thought it was inhumane. I mean, at this point, he can't be far from death, right? Yeah. And you just, there's no good option here.

No, there really isn't. So why not? Let's try the rope idea. The plan was to wrap a harness around Floyd's upper body, attach it to a rope, and try to pull him out from under that boulder pinning his left leg. A doctor on the scene warned them to be careful. He'll tear his organs out before his foot, he said. The doctor said his organs would stretch like taffy as they were pulling him. But the men were willing to give it a shot anyway. At 5 p.m. Homer Collins went down to Floyd carrying a harness, a rope, some ham sandwiches, coffee, whiskey, and a sedative.

A chain of men followed behind him, ready to help pull the rope. After feeding Floyd, Homer began attaching the harness around Floyd's upper body. Floyd got nervous. You won't pull my foot off, will you, Homer? Oh, boy. Homer stopped. Floyd, we won't try this if you say so. but Floyd was desperate.

Sweet Jesus, don't leave me here again. Pull me out. Yeah. After a few minutes of getting set up, they were ready. Homer passed the rope up the line and then gave the signal. Pull. Floyd's body slowly began to stretch. The men pulled and pulled.

Floyd's body wouldn't budge, though. It only continued to stretch out. Floyd screamed in pain. Stop. I can't see. Stand it. It's pulling me in two. Oh, God. Stop. Oh, my God. Further up the cave, Lieutenant Burden ignored Floyd's cries. In his mind, this had to work. Oh, God. Keep going. Keep going, he yelled. Oh, no. Homer sprung into action. He pulled the rope

back to relieve the pressure on his brother. Yeah. Stop, you'll kill him, he yelled. Finally, the rope dropped. Lieutenant Burden conceded. The rope was not going to work. Lieutenant Vernon needs to get out of here. Interesting observation. Few people felt the same way, Kristen. Hmm. The chain of men left Sand Cave, dejected.

Homer stayed behind to soothe his brother, who whimpered in pain. The rescue team would have to go back to the drawing board. The crowd outside of Sand Cave was bigger than ever now, around 200 people. They eagerly awaited the results of the rope pool, but the looks on the men's faces as they exited. Sand Cave told the whole story. More alcohol made its way around the campfires to kill the time. William Skeets Miller returned to Cave City to report on the unsuccessful rope pool.

Lieutenant Burden rested up in his hotel room, brainstorming other ways to save Floyd. Marshall Collins had caught some sort of bug and he had to go home and lay down. He would never reenter San Cave after that night. Homer and Daddy Lee Collins returned home too. that left only one man from the leadership group at Sand Cave, Johnny Gerald. Gerald was feeling slightly smug about the rope pool. He was the only person to vote against it. He knew it was a bad idea.

He thought, what did these city boys like Lieutenant Burden know about caves anyway? They were only going to make things worse. So with everyone else gone, Johnny Gerald believed he could put his plan into action. In his mind, there was only one way to... to safely save Floyd Collins. They had to keep him warm. They had to feed him, and they had to slowly dig him out. So that night, despite his thick boy build, Johnny Gerald squeezed himself into Sand Cave. And he was filled with determination to save his old friend. He wiggled and wormed his way down, sucking in his chest at the squeezes, pushing himself until he reached the top of the 10-foot

pit. And from there he yelled down. Floyd, do you know who this is? Floyd immediately perked up. Is that you, Johnny? You betcha, I come to get you out, replied Gerald. Floyd was so happy. Finally, his old buddy Johnny Gerald was here to save him. But Johnny Gerald hesitated at the top of that pit. Is there another way down there? asked Gerald. Yeah, there's actually a really nice roomy hallway. You just go down the left here. You didn't go in the back way? Floyd replied, no.

Come on down. Gerald inspected the pits some more. Did you get through this hole? Yeah, said Floyd. Gerald inspected the opening some more. I don't see how you did it, he remarked. Well, said Floyd, I'd done it, but it was awful tight. Tight, tight, tight, yeah.

Beefy boy Johnny Gerald was never going to fit in that 10-foot pit. So instead, he worked to widen the pit. He started removing large boulders around the opening. And incredibly, Johnny Gerald and a few volunteers were able to haul out a 30-pound and a 60-pound rock from the opening. Wow. And so that gave Johnny Gerald enough room to finally squeeze down and see. see Floyd for himself. From there, he put his plan into action, removing loose gravel from all around Floyd, including underneath him. For the next six hours, Johnny Gerald worked like a dog,

sending syrup cans full of gravel up to the surface. As he worked, Floyd woke up occasionally, asking, how's it coming, Johnny? Gerald remained positive, keeping Floyd's hopes alive. It's working. It's coming. Yes, sir, ain't nothing going to stop us, Floyd, you're sure hung up, but by God, we'll get you free. Now that's the attitude we need. That's right. When Gerald called it quits, he had made amazing progress. Floyd now had a few inches of extra room between his chest and the ceiling.

He could freely move his right upper leg. Gerald believed that soon they would be able to wedge a crowbar underneath that boulder pinning his left leg and lift it off. Johnny Gerald said his goodbyes and patted Floyd on the shoulder. Don't worry, I'll get you out. You're going to be all right? Floyd Collins seemed to be filled with a newfound hope. He smiled and said,

I can live here two weeks if someone will just feed me. Johnny Gerald smiled and made his way out. When he reemerged from San Cave, he stumbled over to the first aid tent and collapsed on a cot. The crowd of spectators could not believe it. During that work session, Johnny Gerald had removed half a ton of debris from around Floyd Collins' body. To the locals at the scene, it was clear.

Johnny Gerald was the true leader of this rescue operation. Tuesday, February 3rd, 1925. That morning, the entire country would learn about Floyd Collins' entrapment in Sand Cave. Thanks to William Skeets Miller's incredible eyewitness reporting for the Courier Journal, the Associated Press picked up the story. The rescue of Floyd Collins became the top headline in newspapers across the country, knocking other news items down the page. But who the hell cares about this sled dog named Balto?

Give me more news on Floyd Collins. Hell yeah. Balto, future topic? Are you going to have like a series on famous dogs? That would be fun. Did you ever watch the Balto animated movie? No. It was pretty good.

Okay. It's a cool story. He's like a sled dog that has to bring medicine to this like remote village. You're going to tell me the whole story now? Is this a story within a story? Yep. Mm-hmm. Strap in, folks.

Okay. No, but maybe maybe a future topic. Hmm. Spreading, it brought fresh volunteers to the area. They were ready to help save this man. One of them was a civil engineer named Henry Carmichael. Henry Carmichael was the superintendent of the Kentucky Rock Asphalt Company. He had read about Floyd's story in the newspaper and he decided to help.

He rounded up 10 volunteers from his company and they went to Sand Cave. Initially, Henry Carmichael wanted to dig a rescue shaft to save Floyd Collins. But Johnny Gerald, who was kind of the de facto leader now of the rescue operations, he convinced Henry Carmichael to hold off on that and to just work on the passageway instead. Let's shore it up. Let's make it safer. Carmichael's leadership and engineering expertise really came in handy. His men worked on shoring up the passageway. They made it way safer.

It was less likely to cave in. They widened it as well, allowing easier access. They ran string lights through Sand Cave, which lit up the once dark passageways. Carmichael also organized a schedule, which ensured that fresh volunteers were working on rescuing Floyd 24-7. Nice. But not all of the new volunteers who came to Sand Cave were helpful. A pair of stone cutters tried to enter the cave, hoping to chip away at the giant boulder above Floyd's body. Souvenirs?

I don't know. But Johnny Gerald turned them away, fearing their work would cause a cave-in. The stonecutter scoffed. Geez, buddy, why are you giving us such a hard time? Okay, I don't think they really said that. I made that up. I wrote that in here. Wow.

I confess. We would have never guessed. That morning, Lieutenant Burden returned with a new tool. A fire hose hoist. Lieutenant Burden thought, hey, instead of pulling floor, out by hand with a rope, let's use the fire hose hoist. We could slowly winch Floyd out. Yeah, he's got a new tool all right. Would his foot still be attached? Who knows? Give it up with that idea. You tried and it failed. Move on. Yeah, uh, Johnny Gerald stepped in and, uh, he was like,

hell no, no, no, no, hell to the no, no. If Lieutenant Burden wanted to be helpful, he He should just stay away from Sand Cave. That's what Johnny Gerald thought. Me too. And he had the drunken crowd on his side too. They started yelling obscenities at poor Lieutenant Burden. Oh, well. He's like, get the hell out of here.

Okay. Seems unnecessary. Yeah. The rescue operation was becoming kind of an unhealthy competition to see who could rescue Floyd Collins first and take the glory. Well, it's becoming entertainment. Yeah, especially for these drunk. drunk boys hanging out outside the cave.

Meanwhile, thanks to Henry Carmichael's work on the passageway, several men were easily able to reach Floyd Collins, feeding him hot potato soup and coffee. They made small talk with him. Floyd's spirits remained high. Yes, sir, he said, this isn't hard on me like it is on you all. You know, in my own Crystal Cave,

I was hung up once for 24 hours and I freed myself. I've got pretty good nerves, don't I? You sure do, Floyd, they said. But when they left, it was kind of like Floyd's hope completely deflated. Floyd told them, goodbye, I'll see you in heaven. It was really a roller coaster for Floyd, I think. It would have to be. Yeah.

It would have to be. I think any time somebody left, he probably thought, this is the last time I'm going to see somebody. Right. Well, and I'm sure part of him having high spirits is if you're dependent on people for your survival, you're going to put on a happy face or at least try to. Mm-hmm. Oh. Ooh. My anxiety just shoots up thinking about being stuck like him.

Yeah. Ugh. Like not only is it claustrophobic, it's painful. I mean, you've got this massive boulder on. your left ankle. So the blood's cut off probably. You have to worry about that. You have to worry about cave-ins.

But you also have to worry about the giant four-foot boulder right above you that could fall at any time. And you have to worry that the people who are down there helping you might be killed as well. Yeah. But you know, if you worry about their safety too. Like seriously, though, if you are ever in this situation, just take your

freaking crock off. Okay, we solved it. You know how much I love where. in my crocs, though. You can pry the crock off my cold dead foot. Spirit of Charlton Heston lives inside of me. Wow. So yeah, at times Floyd Collins seemed ready to give up.

But reporter William Skeets Miller was not ready to give up. You know, he may have come to San Cave as a reporter, but he was now a full-blown rescuer. At 5 p.m., Miller arrived back at Sand Cave, suited up, ready to go back in, and he had an assortment of tools with him, including a crowbar and several different kinds of jacks. Miller had a plan. So, thanks to his size, he was small enough to climb on top of Floyd and reach to his legs. And from there, he could wedge a crowbar under that boulder trapping Floyd's leg, and so one end of the crowbar

sticking up in the air and then he wanted to put a jack on the ceiling upside down, raise the jack and it would push on the end of the crowbar and lift the boulder up and off of Floyd Collins and send it tumbling down the passageway.

So that's Miller's plan. What do you think? I mean, I don't know how any of this works. I mean, I feel like this is the perfect time to say, it's so crazy, it just might work. But I don't know. Yeah, so everyone else in the rescue group, they really liked this idea. Even Johnny Gerald.

That's who I'm waiting for. That's who is the real daddy in this story. They got to work making it happen. William Miller led the way, heading down the winding sand cave. And when he reached Floyd, he was stunned because so much debris had been removed since he was last there. Thanks to Johnny Gerald. In fact, Floyd Collins could now move side to side. and even move his hands and arms slightly.

So William Miller's optimism was now through the roof. The last thing he had to do was clear more debris from around Floyd's legs to get the crowbar underneath the boulder. He squeezed his tiny frame between Floyd and the rock ceiling above. It was kind of like they were in a 69 position, basically. The space was tight. The work was exhausting. but Miller would not give up.

Author Robert Murray said that Miller was working in the space the size of the average dining room chair. He wrote, quote, Every minute seemed like an hour. The sharp shards of rock penetrated Miller's gloves like a knife. Finally, after a few hours, William Miller was able to free Floyd's left knee. All that was left was the boulder pinning Floyd's ankle.

But before they tackled that, Miller sat to rest and feed Floyd, asking him questions along the way for his next story. Floyd Collins opened up more this time. His vulnerability was on full display. He confessed how scared he was. I kept trying to drive my mind to something else. But it wasn't much use, he said. I couldn't do much to help those who came to help me. But I knew a lot of people were willing to do all in their power.

This gave me courage. I'm aching all over. But my head's clearer now than at any time since I've been here. I'm still praying all the time, praying that God's will be done. I believe in heaven, but I know I'm going to get out. I feel it. Something tells me to be brave, and I'm going to be. After their interview, Miller left Sand Cave for a brief respite. When he got back, they would try to use a jack, to free Floyd Collins. And if all went well, Floyd could be out of Sand Cave that night. At 9 p.m., a chain of rescuers entered Sand Cave.

William Skeets Miller led the charge, with Lieutenant Burden right behind him. Down at the bottom of the passageway, it was time to set everything up. At first, William Miller tried to go in above Floyd Collins head first, but the squeeze was too tight for his upper body. Miller was scraping his face on the rock ceiling above. Floyd told him to go back.

They'll be sending in for two of us if you don't stop, he remarked. So Miller wiggled his way back, turned around, and then went in feet first, as far as he could. And then he reached with his hands down his side, picking up as much loose gravel as he could around Floyd's ankle, hoping to clear enough space for the crowbar. The men above waited patiently in the passageway as cold, wet mud soaked through their clothes. And finally, William Miller was ready.

He called for the crowbar and jack, which were passed down. Miller took the crowbar and wedged it right underneath the boulder at Floyd's ankle. Then he took the jack and, oh shit, the jack was way too big. Miller yelled up for a smaller one, but none of them were small enough. Lieutenant Burden frustratingly suggested that they leave Sand Cave and regroup. Miller would have to find a suitable-sized jack before they tried again. You know, that's got to be so frustrating. Yeah.

When you feel like you're at the finish line, you're there, and you've brought multiple-sized jacks to work on. this, but they're all too big. Above ground, William Miller talked with a few local mechanics hanging outside of Sand Cave, and they all suggested he should use a screw jack. It's a very small jack, and it's got like a four-inch lift. Incredibly, William Miller then drove back to Cave City, found a screw jack, and then came back to Sand Cave. So when I read this, I was just shocked that he did all this himself. Yeah. I can't believe someone just, like, didn't go get him a screw jack

after everything he had been through. I mean, it sounds like his dedication was unmatched. Absolutely. But, you know, either way, they were ready to try the rescue attempt again. So at 10.30 p.m., it was time for attempt number two. The crowbar was wedged under the boulder. One end sticking up.

Miller placed the screw jack on the ceiling upside down. He slowly raised it. And oh, God, damn it. This time the jack was too small. Oh, my God. What the fuck? So William Miller was not about to turn into Goldilocks and be like, I need the perfect jack.

Right. Time was of the essence. He yelled up the cave for wood blocks. Yeah. Miller was just going to shim it. Sweating. Every muscle aching, wedged between Floyd in the ceiling. Miller tried again.

He held the wood blocks in one hand and slowly raised the jack with the other hand. He turned and turned. And shit, the wood blocks fell out. Miller tried again. This time the blocks held. He turned. Turned. He was feeling resistance.

Suddenly the crowbar started moving. The boulder shifted. Floyd Collins excitedly watched. Keep turning, fella. It's coming off, he yelled. Miller turned and turned. And shit. The wood blocks slipped out again.

Exhausted, William Miller tried one last time. But once again, the wood blocks slipped out. What he really needed down there was just another set of hands. to just hold everything in place. But obviously, that just wasn't an option. William Miller passed the news up the cave. The Jack was not working. Lieutenant Burden recalled that everyone felt like crying in that moment.

They'd been so hopeful about this plan. Yeah. But it just wasn't going to work. Not this time anyway. Amazingly, Floyd Collins stayed positive. He encouraged William Skeets Miller. You get out of here and rest up. a bit, he said. Then come back and try again. You're small, and I believe you're going to get me out.

You'll make it next time. William Miller appreciated that. He gave Floyd Collins a bottle of milk, wrapped the light bulb cord around his neck to keep him warm, and then he left. Up above, Johnny Gerald watched as man after man crawled out of Sand Cave one by one, exhausted and demoralized. Johnny Gerald was down too. You know, he had felt good about the Jack plan, but now he had a little bit more on his mind. Johnny Gerald was getting nervous about the stability of the cave. You know, all of those men working in the cave that night

for long periods of time, that introduced a lot of heat and moisture to the cave. And that could loosen rocks up, and that could cause a cave in. But, you know, there was really nothing. they could do at this point. The group planned to reform the next day and try again with the jack. Unfortunately, they would not get that chance. Wednesday, February 4th, 1925. At around 2.30 a.m., two volunteers from Henry Carmichael's crew entered Sand Cave for the night shift. They were going to check on Floyd, remove some more gravel, and continue to shore up the passageway. But when the two men entered

sand cave, they got concerned. Parts of the ceiling had developed large cracks. New rocks were protruding and slumping down. The further they went down, the worse they got. These were all signs of an imminent cave-in. They eventually reached the top of the 10-foot pit, where Floyd Collins lay below. You all right, Floyd? They yelled down. Come down here, replied Floyd. Can't now. But we'll be back, I promise, the men said. I think it's totally possible that Floyd Collins knew what was happening in the cave. Yeah. And he got desperate.

He begged for a drink. Feeling bad for Floyd, one of the men went down the pit. But he soon realized that Floyd wasn't really thirsty. He just wanted company. Yeah. The other volunteer shouted at him. For God's sake, come on, you'll get us killed, he yelled. Both men retreated, as Floyd shouted,

Please stay. Get a doctor, for the love of God. Have him come in here and cut off my leg. The two men ignored him and kept retreating. Because the cave-in was happening. The ceiling above was descending. Debris fell all around them. The entire passageway was slowly closing up.

As the men scurried up out of Sand Cave, they heard Floyd scream one last time. Stay with me. Please don't leave me. Incredibly, those two volunteers made it out of Sand Cave, huffing and puffing. They immediately went to their boss, Henry Carmichael. What happened? asked Carmichael. Visibly shaken, the men gasped out. The caves collapsed.

On the next episode of an old-timey podcast, it's a race against the clock to save Floyd Collins. Wow, they're still trying. Yep. Oh my gosh. Oh, Norm, that was excellent. Thank you. But absolutely terrifying. Yeah, it's scary. I can't believe what this man went through. Me either. I'm never leaving the house. That's a reasonable reaction to this story, I think. Thank you. Thank you. Are you starting to see why I sort of have an obsession? with caving disasters? No, honestly, this makes me want to never go near a cave,

never think about a cave, never hear about a cave again. But for you, it's more intriguing than anything. Well, really the rescue operation I'm very intrigued by, like how they're going to get this man out of here. Yeah. But anyway, part three will be the finale. Okay. We'll see what happens to Floyd Collins.

I thought this was going to be a four-part series, no? Nope. Okay. Nope. I am, I'm going to fit it into three, baby. You're, because you were inspired by Kyla, right? That's right. That's right. Shrinking it down. I think a year ago, this would have been eight parts. Now it's down to three. We're learning. We are learning.

Yeah. Anyway, what do we have for the slop today, Kristen? Okay. For the slop today, we have movies because you and I have seen some movies lately. and we want to talk about them. It's Kristen and Norm at the movies. That's right. Okay. Remember, if you want to hear this slop segment,

please sign up at patreon.com slash old-timey podcast. Get on the pig butter investor tier, and you can hear us review the latest movies in theaters. Folks, we just wrapped up another incredible segment of the slop. Thank you all for your support being a pig butter investor. We reviewed three movies this week. obsession, jackass, best and last, and the substance. If you want to know our thoughts, head on over to patreon.com slash old-timey podcast.

Sign up on that pig butter investor tier, and you can hear about how Kristen thinks that I'm a grumpy old man. You fully demonstrated that you are a grumpy old man by saying a lot of grumpy old man things, then saying, no, you're not a grumpy old man, but then accidentally saying more grumpy old man things about what it's like to see a movie in a theater. It was a whole thing, folks. Should we wrap up this episode, Tristan? Stop talking about me. You know what they say about history, hoes? We always cite our sources.

That's right. For this episode, I got my information from the books. Trapped. The Story of Floyd Collins by Robert Murray and Roger Brucker. The Life and Death of Floyd Collins by Homer Collins and John Lairberger. The Kentucky Cave Wars by David Kim. And the article,

The 1925 Cave Rescue that captivated the by Lucas Riley for the website Mental Floss. Plus more. Please refer to the show notes. That's all for this episode. Thank you for listening to an old-timey podcast. Please give us a five-star review wherever you listen to podcasts

and while you're at it, subscribe. Support us on Patreon at patreon.com slash old-timey podcast. Join the Reddit community, our slash old-timey podcast. Follow us on Facebook and YouTube and Instagram at Old Timey Podcast. Do we have the TikTok again?

Is TikTok back? Oh, yeah, but I can't remember what our handle is. Oh, my God. It's probably at Old Timey Podcast. Yeah, probably. It's at probably Old Timey Podcast. There you go. You can also follow us individually on Instagram.

She is the beautiful. Kristen Pitts-Karuso. I go by Gaming Historian. And until next time, Tudu, Tata, and Cheerio. Goodbye. Bye. See ya. See you.