Infamous America - DB COOPER Ep. 2 | “The Investigation”

Episode Date: July 15, 2020

Law enforcement agencies race to find the hijacker, but they face major obstacles. The possible search area is massive and the weather hampers the investigation on the ground. The media turns the story into nationwide news. And they know virtually nothing about the man who called himself “Dan Cooper” but who will be forever known as, “D.B. Cooper.” As their frustration mounts, they release a sketch of the hijacker that will become iconic in the history of American crime. Join Black Barrel+ for early access and bingeable seasons: blackbarrel.supportingcast.fm/join For more details, please visit www.blackbarrelmedia.com. Our social media pages are: @blackbarrelmedia on Facebook and Instagram, and @bbarrelmedia on Twitter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The search for the man who hijacked Flight 305 on Thanksgiving weekend, 1971, became frustrating real quick. Just days after the event, a police chief in southwestern Washington said this. Either he's hung in the branches of a tree somewhere and we won't find him until next deer season, or he's home watching us on television, laughing his fool head off. Days, weeks, and months passed, and the hijackers seemed to have to have. simply vanished. Some people thought the hijacking was the act of a daring outlaw. Others saw it as a desperate measure by a desperate man. And others, like FBI Special Agent Ralph Himmelsbach, viewed it as merely the act of a criminal. It was a criminal act

perpetrated by a criminal, plain and simple. But whichever side you were on, one thing was absolutely certain and undeniable. The mythological and legendary status of D.B. Cooper and the hijacking of flight 305 would only continue to grow. From Black Barrel Media, this is infamous America. I'm your host, Chris Wimmer. In this season, we're telling the story of D.B. Cooper, the mystery man who pulled off the only unsolved skyjacking in American history. This is Chapter 2, The Investigation. As the country settles in for Thanksgiving dinner in November 1971. Many eyes are on a game of the century in college football. It's the number one Nebraska cornhuskers versus the number two Oklahoma Sooners. Later that evening,

after Nebraska wins, all eyes are on the news as Walter Cronkite tells the story of an incredible event that happened the night before. A commercial airplane was hijacked in the Pacific Northwest. The culprit is at large and Cronkite sets up the story for a reporter who calls the hijacker a master criminal. The TV audience listens to reporter Bill Curtis as he walks them through the case that will become one of the greatest unsolved mysteries in American history. He goes through the flight, the bomb, and the nighttime jump into the wilderness. Five military fighter jets were sent to maintain visual contact with the plane. None of them succeeded. FBI Special Agent Ralph Himmelsbach took a helicopter up into the

rainy night to try to follow the plane. He failed as well. The weather made it impossible. At the moment, no one knows exactly when the hijacker jumped out of the plane, which means they have no idea where he might have landed. The weather prevents the ground search from beginning in full on Thanksgiving. Local authorities and the FBI are forced to sit on their hands as the criminal evades capture, and no one feels time slipping by more than Agent Himman. He knows the first 48 hours are crucial, and that's when they know who the subject is, but in this case, they're dealing with an unsub, an unknown subject. On top of that, the subject is possibly on the run in some of the densest and most impenetrable

wilderness in the United States. The case gets a name, Norjack, short for Northwest hijacking. In his heart, Himmelsbach believes there's little chance. the hijackers survive the jump. But until he has a man in custody or a body identified in the morgue, he knows the media will only grow the profile of the case. Terrain and weather aside, Himmelsbach wants to get this guy, and quickly, and the press is not his ally. In the confusion of the late hours of that Thanksgiving Eve, a reporter from the Oregonian will hear the name of the hijacker wrong over a bad phone line, or simply make an error in transcript.

Instead of recording the suspect's name as Cooper, Dan, it'll be written as Cooper, DB. That's the name that will be given to United Press International, and it's the name that will run in newspapers nationwide. The manhunt for DB Cooper begins in full in the early morning hours of Friday, November 26, 1971. Deputies mobilize from multiple counties of multiple counties of southwestern Washington. FBI agents arrive from Portland, Seattle, Boise, and Spokane. The agents collect the physical evidence. On the plane, they find an opened main parachute that was cut up by Cooper for an unknown reason. They also find an unused reserve shoot. There's a black clip-on tie and a mother-of-pearl tie clip. Agents lift several dozen unique fingerprints from the

surface in the rear of the plane, and the Raleigh cigarette butts in the ashtray. The FBI wants the note that Cooper handed to flight attendant Florence Schaffner, the one that said he had a bomb, but Cooper took it back before they landed in Seattle. Agents interview all the passengers and crew members. They ask about Cooper's physical characteristics and demeanor. Most of the passengers had no idea they were being hijacked, so they paid little attention to the man in the last row of the plane. Florence Schaffner and fellow flight attendant Tina Mucklow provide the most reliable information. But even then, they don't agree.

So the FBI is left with a relatively generic description of a middle-aged man. He's a white male in his mid-forties. He's between 5'10 and 6 feet tall. He weighs approximately 175 pounds with an average build and olive-carriage. complexion. He wore a dark suit with a black tie, and early in the hijacking, he put on a pair of dark sunglasses to hide his eyes. The rough description goes out to law enforcement, and they begin creating a composite sketch. Now that they have a vague description and a name that may or may not be real, a group of agents try to figure out who the man is. Another group works with

Northwest Orient Airlines to try to figure out where he is. They map out the flight plan. They compare communications between the plane and the ground to descriptions of the events between Captain Scott and his crew. The flight crew reports a significant change in cabin pressure at roughly 8.13 p.m. The theory is that the change happened when the hijacker stepped off the end of the air stairs. The removal of his weight might have caused the stairs to bounce up as air rushed underneath them. If so, they can limit their search.

But the flight path, called Victor 23, is still 10 miles wide. In high winds, a jumper could get pushed in any direction. And Cooper wore a military parachute that didn't allow him to steer. He was at the mercy of the winds. Authorities confer with aviation experts and military personnel. They narrowed the search. They'll concentrate on an area of 25-6%. square miles that's east of the Columbia River. It stretches from Lake Merwin down to Vancouver,

Washington. It's big, but it's better than the original search area that was five times larger. Still, it's a daunting amount of land to cover. It straddles two counties, and it's approximately the size of the Portland metro area. It's full of towering pine trees and endless thickets and brambles. Much of it is not accessible by road. Authorities divide the terrain into six areas. Searchers lace up their boots and trudge through the forest. The cold rain is not cooperative. When the weather permits, light aircraft and helicopters crisscrossed the search area.

The local parachute expert who provided the main shoots says they're looking for a white canopy. If they're lucky, the hijacker got himself stuck in a 200-foot western hemlock. And with the ground search underway, FBI offices begin to work on a profile of D.B. Cooper. Agents begin asking questions. Was Cooper familiar with airplanes, or maybe an expert? When he bought his ticket, he'd asked if he'd be flying on a 727 aircraft. Did he know that that type of plane had the air stairs in the back?

That plane was used by intelligence agencies in the Vietnam War because of the stairs. They dropped loads of supplies by parachute. Is Cooper in the CIA? Or was he in the CIA? And the parachutes might have been a bigger mystery. He'd ordered two sets of shoots. Each set had a main shoot that was worn on the back and a smaller reserve shoot that was worn on the chest.

When the shoots had been delivered to the plane, there were two fully functioning main shoots. But one of the smaller reserve shoots was a dummy shoot. It was meant for use on the ground during training. It was sewn shut. When the plane finally landed in Reno, Nevada, authorities ran inside and found one main shoot and the fully functional reserve shoot. For some reason, Cooper had jumped out of the plane with the dummy reserve shoot that wouldn't

open. So the question started to pile up. How much experience did he have with parachutes? Was he an avid jumper? If so, why did he take the ducing? dummy reserve shoot instead of the operational shoot. And he specifically requested military-style parachutes. Why? Had he been a paratrooper? He had jumped into a night that was almost pitch black. It was raining, and there were winds of more than 50 miles per hour. That was enough to rip a branch

off a tree. Why did he jump in those conditions? Was it a lack of experience? Or had he been forced to jump because they'd been delayed on the ground in Seattle. Or, were the weather conditions and the terrain all part of his plan? In the short term, virtually none of these questions could be answered. On Saturday, November 27th, less than 72 hours after D.B. Cooper bailed out of Flight 305, some of Agent Himmelsbach's fears come true. The media circus arrives in Clark County, Washington. D.B. Cooper and his exploits are a national...

story. Reporters clamor for interviews with deputies and sheriffs. The locals become celebrities. Himmelsbach understands that Americans have a complicated relationship with the idea of the outlaw. He sees a society that simultaneously vilifies, celebrates, embellishes, and forgives outlaws. He watches people focus on the outlaw's ability to evade the drudgery of life, but ignore the pain and suffering caused by the outlaw. John Dillinger, Butch and Sundance, Bonnie and Clyde, they're just criminals to Agent Himmelsbach. He awards no points for style or a great tall tale. He resents that they're celebrated, and he knows that the longer Cooper stays free,

the more likely his name will end up like the rest. So searchers blanket the possible drop zone, and the FBI releases the sketch that will become iconic in the history of American crime. As searchers slogged through the forest, agents and deputies canvass the local towns. They go door to door, searching barns and farms and warehouses left vacant for the holiday weekend. They quiz bartenders about any suspicious types they might have encountered. Agents go to every hospital in the area. Has anyone been admitted with a twisted ankle or a broken leg or a dislocated hip?

Anything that might have been caused by a fall from a great height. And while agents and officers work, they have to fend off treasure hunters. People descend on the area in droves as they think $200,000 might be lying on the ground somewhere. Officers searched the rivers in the area around Merwin Dam and the adjacent lake. Authorities speculate that the hijacker knew the region. He picked out Tacoma from the plane while sitting with Tina Mucklow. Maybe he knew the dam and used the lights from it as a vantage point. But if he landed in Lake Merwin near the dam, most people believe he drowned.

In all these places, farms, bars, hospitals, rivers, and lakes, the police find nothing. They have no leads from the search, and they find no evidence on the ground. So some portion of the attention turns to potential suspects. There's a man who's actually named Dan Cooper in the Pacific Northwest, but he's quickly cleared. The name of a murderer is floated. He killed his wife and three daughters in New Jersey at the beginning of November. He disappeared, and he's still at large. Authorities investigate employees at Northwest Orient and Boeing,

even though the hijacker said he didn't have a grudge against the airline. This angle remains on the minds of agents as the investigation moves along. By Sunday afternoon of the holiday weekend, the FBI artists have completed their composite sketches. There are two of them. and now there's a face to go with the name D.B. Cooper. The first sketch becomes known as the Bing Crosby sketch. Like the famous singer and actor,

Cooper has an oval face, rather large ears, and small eyes. His eyebrows are thin, and his forehead suggests a receding hairline. But only Florence Schaffner saw Cooper without sunglasses, and then only briefly. So the second sketch is the one that will become iconic. Cooper's features are identical, but now he's pictured with dark sunglasses. Authorities flood the streets with these pictures Monday morning. They re-canvass ticket agents and taxi drivers and airport employees and residents of towns near the search zone.

They send the pictures to businesses all over the region. They want to know if any men fitting the description have not returned to work after the holiday weekend. And of course, like clockwork, the FBI and law, Local law enforcement becomes swamped with calls and letters from the public claiming that D.B. Cooper lives right next door. He's a retired pilot from Twin Falls. He's a skydiver from Butte. He's a former paratrooper from Tuscaloosa. He's a race car driver from Pomona. One call claims to have picked out D.B. Cooper as an actor on a rerun of Perry Mason. Multiple calls come in about a man named Ted Mayfield. He's a skydiving instructor. He's a veteran. He's had run-ins with the police and the FBI. He fits a profile that many future

Cooper suspects will fit. Mayfield claims he was contacted by the FBI to find parachutes on the night of the hijacking. He'll remain linked to the case. But for every Mayfield, there are hundreds of names that lead nowhere. In January 1972, two months after the hijacking, experts try to recreate the change in cabin pressure they assume was caused when Cooper jumped out of the plane. They bring in the cockpit crew from Flight 305 and send them up in a Boeing 727. A team pushes weighted pallets out of the back of the plane that are equal to the hijacker and the load he was carrying. The crew of Flight 305 agreed the recreated sensation is identical to what they felt on the night

of the hijacking. Authorities are now confident they're looking in the right place. but they still haven't found anything. And the search continues to be formidable. Winter fully arrives, and the rain turns to snow. It was difficult to search the wilderness of the drop zone in the rain, and it's nearly impossible in the snow. The search by air grows to include the use of the SR-71 Blackbird spy plane.

Hundreds of square miles are searched, but to no avail. As winter deepens in the region, the physical search for D.B. Cooper stops. At that point, the focus is on the money. The serial numbers on the individual bills were quickly, but meticulously, recorded the night of the hijacking. They're published in catalogs and delivered the banks. While the hijacker added weight to his load by requesting $200,000 and $20 bills,

he gave himself currency that wouldn't raise suspicion. Trying to spend 50s or 100s in a region where unemployment was higher than the national average might attract unwanted interest. The serial numbers are forwarded to banks throughout the Pacific Northwest and down into California. They're sent to casinos and racetracks that deal in massive amounts of cash. Northwest Orient offers up to 15% of any recovered money as a reward. Media outlets get in on the game. A newspaper in Seattle offers $1,000 for the first Cooper 20 that's found.

The Oregon Journal raises the offer to 5,000. As time passes and none of these efforts pay off, the serial numbers are printed in the newspapers for the public to see. With each new step taken by exasperated law enforcement officials, the problem grows bigger instead of smaller. Now, the confessions start to roll in. Typewritten confessions arrive at law enforcement offices. Ransom notes using letters cut and pasted from magazines

arrive at newspapers like something out of a Hollywood movie. The anonymous offers claim they did it for the money, or because they have just weeks to live. They say they'll never be caught. Two men reach out to a Los Angeles news editor, claiming they can produce D.B. Cooper himself. They want to sell their story for $30,000. They create counterfeit bills with the authentic serial numbers

because the serial numbers were printed in the newspapers. The hoax is exposed and the men are indicted. The list of suspects is in the hundreds and growing. One newspaper sets up an anonymous tips system where concerned citizens can report suspicious activity regarding the Cooper case. While the investigation may be stalling, the public's interest is not.

In fact, the canonization of Cooper has begun. He's deified as an anti-hero. As long as he remains at large, Cooper's fearlessness is celebrated and his foolhardiness is forgotten. Radio stations play ballads written about the outlaw. Vendors make t-shirts that read, D.B. Cooper, where are you?

And, skyjacking, the only way to fly. To the dismay of law enforcement and airline officials, the t-shirts are for sale at Seattle, Tacoma. airport. There are D.B. Cooper theme nights at bars and bowling alleys. A local tow truck company offers prizes for the best short story about what might have happened to the hijacker. Some law enforcement officers will confess later that, by this time, they secretly hope he pulled it off and is sitting somewhere counting stacks of wet $20 bills. After all, no one got hurt. But for the most part, authorities hate the positive spin on Cooper, and many in the public agree. A retail store owner threatens to

fire any store manager who sells Cooper memorabilia. Cooper clothing is banned in schools. One high school teacher in Seattle thought he'd trained himself not to be shocked by anything kids wear, but he says, this latest piece of sick Americana is too much even for me. Agent Ralph Himmelsbach shares all these sentiments and has a few additions of his own. He despises the media glorification on principle, but also because he fears copycats. He worries about a new trend in air piracy, and his fears are prophetic. More than anything, Himmelsbach sees no daring in Cooper's actions. The agent says,

I think he was a stupid, desperate rascal, a brutal, unscrupulous man who endangered the lives of 40 people for money. Himmelsbach's resentment of the hero worship drives him as much as his desire to capture Cooper or recover the money. Through the winter of 1972, the search for the money amounts to nothing. Officers and agents sift through lists of suspects. They follow leads to dead ends. In early March, the FBI and the governor of Washington seek the help of the U.S. Army. They set up headquarters and bibwax and helo landing areas near Lake Merwin. But they have a little success. The snow continues into April.

It stalls the search in the air and inhibits the search on the ground. It's hard to find evidence when there's six inches of snow covering the forest floor. The ground search begins again as spring approaches. Two civilians find a body, but it's not Cooper. It's a young woman who will be identified as Barbara Ann Derry. Years later, her murder will be linked to possible serial killer, Warren Forrest. Agent Himmelsbach feels the investigation beginning to lose steam. He and the FBI have spent the winter investigating cold calls, skydiving schools,

former members of the intelligence community, and people affiliated with airlines, airports, and airplanes. And then Himmelsbach's fear of copycats is realized. The attempts begin in January 19. Garrett Trapnel hijacks a TWA flight out of Los Angeles, bound for New York City. He's armed with a 45-caliber handgun he was able to smuggle onto the plane. He asked for a ransom of over $300,000 and for the release of political activist Angela Davis. Authorities storm the plane on the ground in New York, and they injure and subdue Trapnel. In early April, Richard McCoy Jr. hijacks.

a Boeing 727 out of Denver, Colorado. Just like Cooper, he uses the air stairs to parachute out of the plane with $500,000 in a duffel bag. He lands safely, but he's apprehended days later. He was able to spend just $30 of his haul. The similarities to Cooper's hijacking set off alarms immediately. It isn't just that McCoy's M.O. matches Cooper's. McCoy looks like the composite sketches. But McCoy has an alibi for Thanksgiving weekend.

He was in Reno, Nevada, and his story is corroborated. For now, at least, Richard McCoy is not D.B. Cooper. The search in the wilderness south of Lake Merwin eventually tapers off. Soldiers return to Fort Lewis. Sheriffs and deputies return to the day-to-day business of Clark and Cowlitz counties. Agent Himmelsbach and the FBI are left with just the paper chase. They're looking for an apparent ghost. The interest from the public dwindles as well, but it never disappears.

Newspapers revisit the case on each anniversary. A tavern near Ariel Washington starts an annual Cooper Days festival. Fans of the folklore and self-proclaimed experts gather to trade Cooper stories and theories. As the years pass, most people involved with the case resign themselves to the fact it might remain unsolved for us. In the mid-1970s, the case approaches its statute of limitations. Himmelsbach files an indictment for D.B. Cooper as a John Doe so that no matter how much time passes, Cooper can be charged with air piracy. As the decade goes on, airplane hijacking seems to fall out of vogue. There were more than 50 hijackings per year worldwide from 1968 to 1972. But from 1973 to

1982, that number dropped to less than 10 per year. And at the close of 1973, the FAA proudly reports that the calendar year has gone by without a single hijacking of an American plane. None of the $20 bills given to D.B. Cooper are ever found in circulation. After a long legal battle, Global Indemnity Insurance Company finally pays Northwest Orient Airlines $180,000 to satisfy insurance policy. Six years passed without the discovery of any concrete physical evidence in the forests of Washington State. Then, in 1978, a hunter in the woods within the path of Flight 305 stumbles onto a metal placard. It's incomplete and rusted, but it's identified as a placard that would be found near the back of a Boeing 727. Printed on the placard are instructions for how to

operate the rear air stairs. While the discovery rekindles interest for treasure hunters and Cooper enthusiasts, it does little to move the case along. The 1970s pass into the 1980s with no real movement on the case. America's attention turns to the boycott of the Moscow Summer Olympics. President Carter reestablishes selective service in response to the Soviet Union's invasion of Afghanistan. There's a hostage crisis in Iran.

The word yippie replaces hippie, and Mount St. Helens in Washington State literally blows its top. A Hollywood movie about D.B. Cooper makes it to the silver screen. It's called The Pursuit of D.B. Cooper and stars Treat Williams as the hijacker, and Robert Duval as the lawman who has to catch him. But the real lawman on the D.B. Cooper case, Special Agent Ralph Himmelsbach, ponders retirement after nearly 30 years with the FBI. But before he does, the case receives a shot in the arm. It comes from the most unlikely source,

a boy who wasn't even alive when the now notorious D.B. Cooper jumped out of Flight 305 and into legend. Next time on Infamous America, an eight-year-old boy uncovers the first physical evidence of D.B. Cooper in nearly a decade. The case receives help from new science and citizen sleuths as it moves into the new millennium, and a new list of suspects emerges. That's next week on Infamous America. And if you're a member of our Black Barrel Plus program,

you already have access to the full season. If you're not a member, you can sign up now through the link in the show notes or on our website, blackbarrelmedia.com. Members receive access to each new season in its entirety one week before the season begins for the general public. And members receive exclusive bonus episodes. Sign up today for just $5 per month.

This season was researched and written by Jamie Lyko, audio editing and sound design by Dave Harrison. I'm your host and producer, Chris Wimmer. Find us at our website, blackbarrelmedia.com or on our social media channels. We're BlackBarrell media on Facebook and Instagram and B-Barrell media on Twitter. And you can stream all our episodes on YouTube. Just search for Infamous America Podcast. Thanks for listening.