Prime Crime: Solved Murders - The Unabomber Pt. 2

Episode Date: July 26, 2023

By the 1980s, Ted Kaczynski had set off several bombs, causing only minor injuries — but for him, it wasn’t enough. What had started as a plot for revenge grew into an unrelenting need to change the world. To do that, he needed to kill. The reign of the Unabomber had begun. This episode originally aired on Serial Killers in April 2021.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Due to the graphic nature of this episode, listener discretion is advised. This episode contains discussions of murder and assault that some listeners may find disturbing. Extreme caution is advised for listeners under 13. Air Force Captain John Hauser wanted to go to space. It was a long-held dream he'd spent his life working towards. He'd attended the Air Force Academy and now was earning his doctorate of the University of California, Berkeley. It was a grueling program, but John knew that Chase, Facing dreams is rarely easy. He spent most afternoons exhausted in a lab or studying on campus.

That's what he was doing on a Wednesday in May, 1985, when he saw the binder. It was an odd sight, a plain black binder with a strange plastic package bound to it with a rubber band. Maybe on a different day, John would have called campus security. That again, there really wasn't anything suspicious about the binder, only that it was seemingly abandoned. John was tired, but he wanted to help. He assumed the package was someone's lunch and opened it, looking for a name. The movement triggered an explosion. The next second, John felt his right-arm jerked to the side,

pushed by the force of a bomb exploding in his hand. In the long seconds after the blast, he could hear nothing but a horrible buzzing, though the room itself was deadly quiet. He took stock of the situation, slowly piecing together what had just happened, though it likely took him a few seconds of hazy shock to realize every one of the fingers on his right hand had been blown off. John would never fly again. The Unabomber had seen to that. Hi, I'm Greg Poulson. This is Serial Killers, a Spotify original from

Pardcast. Every episode, we dive into the minds and madness of serial killers. Today we're finishing the story of Ted Kaczynski, aka the Unabomber. I'm here with my co-host, Vanessa Richardson. Hi, everyone. You can find episodes of serial killers and all others Spotify originals from Parcast for free on Spotify or wherever you listen to podcasts. Last time, we learned how Ted's incredible intellect alienated him socially and how he started sending explosives as a form of revenge. Today, we'll look at the sweeping extent of the Unabomber's crimes. We'll also see how Ted's crusade shifted focus from revenge to political protest. We've got all that and more coming up. Stay with us. In 1979, after a brief unsuccessful sojourn in Iowa with his family,

37-year-old Ted Kaczynski returned to a small cabin in Montana and started building more bombs. Ted had spent a lifetime rejected by his peers. Early in life, his intellect set him apart from potential peers, but as time wore all, he was a while. he became an angry and hostile person. As it often does, that anger led to violence. Most recently, Ted was triggered by the person he was closest to, his brother David, who fired Ted from a factory job. Ted's outlet for his anger was explosives. He'd sent his first two bombs to Northwestern University, where they were detonated, causing minor injuries. The police did their best to investigate the crimes, but because bombs aren't common, investigators last,

some of the tools and knowledge they needed. Still, law enforcement pieced together what they could from recovered fragments of Ted's devices. Similarities in their construction indicated that both bombs were likely made by the same individual. But the motive of their sender remained much harder to work out. There was little to go on. Both explosives were sent to Northwestern,

but there was no specific target, no message of explanation. But with his third bomb, Ted changed everything. In November of 1979, he mailed a bomb from Chicago, knowing it would be transported in the cargo hold of a passenger plane. This bomb was intricately rigged with an

altimeter, which meant that the device would be triggered when it reached a certain altitude. On a flight from Chicago to Washington, the altimeter worked perfectly, and the bomb exploded. Luckily, the device wasn't powerful enough to damage the plane, which landed safely, with

minor injuries reported by only 12 passengers. But their relief was Ted's disappointment. His prolific journaling continued into this part of his life and largely concerned his bombings. He referred to them as experiments, and his writings about this third device were chilling. In his coded journal entries, Ted lamented the fact that the plane had landed safely. Ostensibly, his intention had been to crash the jet, likely killing everyone on board. Clearly, he was prepared to hurt countless people to exact revenge on a world he felt had wronged him. But Ted was courting new enemies. His latest attack put his crimes squarely in the jurisdiction of the FBI, exactly the law enforcement body equipped with the tools to track a serial

bomber. It was a much-needed development, because catching a bomber is its own unique challenge. Vanessa is going to take over on the psychology here and throughout the episode. As a reminder, she is not a licensed psychologist or a psychiatrist, but she has done a lot of research for this show. Thanks, Greg. The pathology of a serial bomber is quite different than that of other serial killers. Unlike the active aggression of shooting, strangling, or stabbing a victim, a bomber engages with their crimes in a very passive way. The bomb is prepared, then placed or sent, and finally detonates. Excluding suicide bombers, the perpetrators. trader is usually far away from the crime itself. Even beyond that, the effects of a bombing

are incredibly different from other violent crimes. Bombs are impersonal, unpredictable, and indiscriminate. If your primary goal is to kill a specific victim, a bomb is a horrible tool. They're more effective at creating fear and drawing attention. In the late 1990s, Dr. J. Reed-Malloy at UC San Diego studied how the psychology of violent criminals applied to bombers. He found that bombers frequently possess a, quote, aggressive narcissism. They're usually someone with a message or a vengeful agenda that has little to do with hurting people, but they're so selfish and convinced of the validity of their beliefs that they're willing to hurt whomever it takes to complete their crusade. The fear they cause

fulfills their need for revenge, and the attention they garner allows them to spread their message. Physical destruction and harm to people are acceptable sacrifices. We can see this pathology from Ted in his journals, where he wrote about his victims with a cold, impersonal tone. He lamented the lack of lethality in his early bombs, not because he sadistically wants to harm people, but because he knew a lethal bomb would draw more eyes. The FBI knew they needed to act swiftly,

especially as their careful examination of physical evidence turned up new information. Despite the differing triggers, the FBI was able to connect the airplane bomb to the two at Northwestern. Examining all three devices, they found small pieces of metal engraved with the letters, F.C., suggesting the bomber had signed his work. With the three attacks linked, a special task force was assembled to find the terrorist responsible. This force was known as the Unabom Task Force, an abbreviation for University and Airline Bombs. From this, the assailant was known as the Unabomber.

The task force began painstakingly going over every recovered bomb fragment, looking for usable evidence. Some things felt like clues, the strange wooden box housing, and the use of wires no longer available at stores, but there was little else to go on. That's because Ted was smart enough to avoid leaving a trail. He was directing his rage towards academia and technology, forces he believed had made his life worse, but he didn't want to pay a price for his vendetta.

To that end, Ted was thorough and cautious in building the devices. Considering the sheer number of surfaces and adhesives involved in a bomb, particular care was required to avoid leaving a fingerprint, a hair, or a trace of saliva on a stamp. These would have been recoverable even after the bombs exploded. As far as we can tell, Ted never left any kind of physical evidence behind on any of his devices, and with authorities nowhere near answers, he was free to continue his crusade.

He struck again in June of 1980. He'd built a bomb inside a hollowed-out book that he sent to the home of Percy Wood, an executive for United Airlines. Again, the bomb only caused cuts and burns, which meant Ted considered it a failure. It's interesting that all four of Ted's first crimes happened in the Chicago area, where he'd grown up, even if he thought his revenge wasn't present. personal, he went out of his way to send the bombs to a place he knew. But his message was unclear.

As we mentioned, he specifically targeted science and technology, but in a scattered way. While the crimes drew attention, his motives remained unclear to everyone but himself. For now, that was of less concern to Ted. He wanted to make his bombs better, more effective at drawing attention. Not that Ted wanted attention in his personal life, but when he did, it was to ensure no one suspected him of a thing. Before attacks, he let himself be seen in the nearby town of Lincoln, a little dirty and sporting a full beard. Then he'd shave and clean himself up for his travel to mail or plant a bomb. It was his own built-in disguise. When his latest mission was over,

he'd return to his cabin and wait a few weeks for his beard to grow back and the grime returned to his skin. Only then did he allow his neighbors to see him again. Everyone in town assumed Ted spent those weeks alone in the woods. Never suspected he went anywhere, let alone that he was the unabomber. Ted was just as resourceful as he was cunning. People in Lincoln were handy and often left tools and materials in garages or makeshift junk piles on their property. It was from here that Ted pilfered most of his bomb supplies, making the components such as the vintage wires difficult to trace. Still, Lincoln's greatest advantage to Ted wasn't the anonymity or availability of materials, but its location. The Lincoln seemed remote. It was easy to catch a

bus to Salt Lake City. From there, cross-country buses could take Ted just about anywhere. Not that he always needed to go far. He planted his next bomb at the University of Utah in Salt Lake City in 1981. Mercifully, it was recovered without detonating. Six months later, Ted mailed a bomb from Provo, Utah to the Computer Science Department at Vanderbilt University in Tennessee. It was opened by a secretary who luckily suffered only minor injuries. Minor injuries weren't enough for Ted. Still, he loved seeing news stories about the attack, along with acknowledgments that his bombs were improving.

With every attack, his crimes moved closer to front pages around the country. And still, the FBI task force had no leads to speak of. Feeling cocky, Ted decided to toy with them. For his next attack, in July of 1982, he included a letter signed R-V. The contents of the note were nonsense, simply meant to throw investigators off whatever trail they were on. He planted that device in a faculty lounge at the University of California at Berkeley. An engineering professor, Diogenes-Angelochos, triggered the device, suffering injuries to his hand and face. Following the attack, the FBI followed up on the letter from the mysterious RV

only to realize it was a dead end that the Unabomber was messing with them. It was frustrating. They knew they'd been lucky that most of the victims so far hadn't sustained long-term injuries, but it was only a matter of time before one of these bombs took a life. Coming up, the Unabomber takes his first life, and everything changes. Now back to the story. By mid-1982, 40-year-old Ted Kaczynski had sent seven bombs in four years and was frustrated that he'd caused no deaths.

All the same, his obsession with his crusade against the modern evils of technology and academia was all-consuming. At the same time, Ted's notoriety was increasing with every device he sent. Academics across the country worried he would target them next, and Ted delighted in their fear. But despite his successful secret life as the Unabomber, Ted's private life was throwing up new challenges. Ted's parents didn't understand their son's life in the woods,

and he resented their criticism, as well as their role in his life's journey. He blamed them for pushing him into a world of academia at a young age, for exposing him to all its evils. Around this time, Ted and his parents entered a frustrating cycle. They'd visit and Ted would be cordial and kind, but after they left, an angry letter from their son would invariably show up at their home. Surprisingly, Ted forgave his brother David for his betrayal at the factory in Iowa. Perhaps this was because Ted felt a kinship for his younger brother, and the reclusive lives

they both led. His letters to David were affectionate, understanding. They were comrades. But despite their varying interactions with him, none of the Kaczynski's had any inkling about Ted's double life. Still, it was always there, consuming him. He didn't plant or send any bombs in 1983 or 1984, and instead spent that time honing his craft. He wanted more carnage, more attention. The next bomb was planted in the same location as his last, Berkeley's Corey Hall.

In May 1985, Air Force Captain John Hauser was studying when he discovered a strange package attached to a binder and accidentally triggered the device. Though he didn't die, Hauser was permanently disabled, which made Ted happy. His journals from the time noted with delight that his improvements were working. A month later at a Boeing facility in Auburn, Washington, Ted's next bomb was recovered before it exploded. Unfortunately, the unexploded devices offered no more clues to the FBI than the remnants of a successful bomb. It was frustrating for investigators, but perhaps Ted was even more annoyed by his failure, and it showed. The target for Ted's next bomb felt personal. Sent in November of 1985, it was addressed to James McConnell, a biologist and animal

psychologist at the University of Michigan. Following his experiences in a twisted psychological experiment at Harvard years earlier. Ted had long harbored a grudge against psychologists. Targeting a scientist is an interesting, if slight shift in Ted's initial MO and hints at a darker motivation. At first, he simply wanted to do damage to the world of technology to see it burn. Now, it seemed he had a new goal. He wanted to hurt people. He wanted to kill. Only then could he achieve the change he desperately wanted. His latest target, Dr. McConnell, wasn't the one to open the bomb, but he and his assistant Nicholas Swino were severely injured in the blast, but still no deaths. Ted went back to the

drawing board, eager to refine his technique. When a bomb explodes, it expands rapidly and everything surrounding it comes along. Pipe bombs like the one Ted sent are dangerous partially because the explosion causes the pipe to burst, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. It's this debris that does real damage. In December of 1985, he left the bomb outside a computer rental store in Sacramento, California, hoping it would make his deadly fantasy a reality. Hugh Scrutton, the owner of the store, had been a student at UC Berkeley when Ted was a professor there. Whether Ted targeted his store on purpose or if it was a coincidence, is a

unknown, but the result was the same. When Hugh picked up the package, it detonated, causing the biggest explosion yet. Hugh died almost instantly, and Ted was elated. Not only had he finally taken a life, the murder increased the media attention for all his crimes. The Unabomber's attacks had caused severe injuries in the past, but this first death struck fear into the country. The terror was only intensified by the seemingly random nature of the attacks. By this stage, the Unabomber had targeted six different states and a cross-country flight.

His victims included college students, executives, security personnel, secretaries, and business owners. Anyone anywhere could be next. Meanwhile, every lead the FBI pursued fizzled out. They couldn't work out the connections between each target, mostly because Ted simply selected people who existed within the hated worlds of technology. technology, science, and industrialization. With the FBI unable to piece together his puzzle, Ted was getting cocky.

As he prepared his next bomb, he decided to mess with them again. He collected random hairs from a bus station bathroom and placed them into his bomb. He was delighted at the thought of creating another false trail for the task force he was outsmarting at every turn. The FBI was struggling and were still way off base in their investigation. At this stage, they suspected that the Unabomber lived in California, despite the number of bombs found in other states. But despite their struggle, Ted was about to make a mistake. In February of 1987, Ted traveled to Salt Lake City, leaving the device with the planted hairs in the parking lot of a computer repair store.

From the outside, the device looked like a simple piece of wood. But it was far more sinister. Gary Wright, the store's owner, noticed the piece of wood and was puzzled. There were nails sticking out of it, and something seemed off. Curious, he reached down to get a closer look. The explosion sounded more like the screech of a fighter jet than a bang or boom. Hundreds of pieces of shrapnel pierced right all over his body. Luckily, he survived the blast and was rushed to hospital.

While his latest victim recovered, Ted fumed. but it was more than just Wright's survival that frustrated him. For the first time, Ted had been seen, as he placed the device and employee of the store made eye contact with him. After the explosion, she was able to describe his face to authorities. The resulting composite sketch, Ted in a hoodie and aviator sunglasses, was startlingly accurate. The hair color was wrong, a reddish blonde instead of a dusty brown,

but otherwise it was an uncanny likeness of Ted. The FBI didn't know where in the country this man was, but at last they had a picture. It appeared in every paper and on the evening news, searing itself into the national consciousness. Ted was spooked. His confidence in his ability to operate quietly and unnoticed was rocked for the first time, and he knew he had to set aside his quest for revenge, at least for now. It may seem odd for a killer to suddenly stop, but it's actually fairly common. There's a misconception that serial killers act on an instinctual, almost animalistic level when committing their crimes. However, most acts of violence involve intention.

So when situations change, the intention evolves as well. A 2008 study by the FBI found that the reasons killers stop include finding another outlet for negative emotions, changes in circumstance that make their crimes more difficult, or even lifestyle changes that relieve stress. Unfortunately, evidence on these pauses is anecdotal. But within those anecdotes, we see another pattern that matches Ted's situation. Often killers will take a break when they start to fear consequences. Maybe a victim gets away or a witness sees them.

So despite the great anger that led him to his bloody crime spree, Ted's fear of being caught was greater. But though Ted needed to stop his crime, crusade, the rage that was the catalyst for his bombings was still there. And it seems that with nowhere else to release it, Ted targeted his family. Ted's relationship with his parents was already fragile, but over time, his letters to his family became increasingly aggressive. The tension didn't debate even when his father, Turk, was diagnosed with lung cancer in the late 1980s. Ted only called to check in when he heard Turk's condition was worsening. Ted's parents

weren't the only family members who faced his wrath. In 1989, David left his remote Texas life to marry Linda Patrick, a teacher in Schenectady, New York. Ted saw this decision as yet another betrayal, fracturing their relationship yet again. The brothers had finally smoothed things over after their schism in the late 70s. Now, Ted felt like his brother had changed, abandoning their matching solitary lifestyle for a woman. It seemed like without his violent outlet, Ted was spiraling, unable to decide how he truly felt. At times he was happy to stay in touch with his family and then went through periods of complete isolation. Eventually, he refused to open any letters without a line drawn under the stamp, the family's

signal for an emergency. In 1990, one such letter brought news that Turk's prognosis was grave. Ted didn't visit, though. And when Turk died, he couldn't even bring himself to attend the the memorial service, opting to call his mother to offer condolences instead. Wanda seized the opening to try and repair her relationship with her son, but Ted coldly rebuffed her. He sent an 18-page tirade, blaming his parents and their obsession with his genius. He believed the pressure of their encouragement had cost him his social and emotional life. While Ted's remaining family struggled to understand his confusing anger, David's new fiancé and Linda saw things more clearly. She told David

that Ted was likely living with a mental illness, and she said that if he wouldn't accept their help, there was nothing they could do for him. Even though she hadn't met Ted, Linda was shrewd in her observations. Her limited experience of him, through his writing, told her all she needed to know. He wasn't at David and Linda's wedding in 1991 and eventually cut his family off for good, reaching out only when he needed money. Whether distracted by his family drama or not, Ted was always at work. He still built bombs, detonating them in the woods, constantly testing and improving. And maybe because he was finally expressing his fury to his family, his goals became less emotional and more political. He began writing a lengthy treatise, the culmination

of his years of study, debate, and political rumination. It formed as an attack on the burdens of technological study, but as it approached completion, he wondered how he could make himself heard. Could his old method of getting attention work again? Would bombs and explosions draw eyes like in the past? In February of 1993, 51-year-old Ted learned they certainly could. Six years after his last bomb, another explosion shook the country. But it wasn't one of his devices. It was a terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York that left six people dead and hundreds injured. The attack dominated the news cycle for months as journalists reported on the perpetrators and their motives. We can't say for sure whether this event was what inspired Ted to return

to his vendetta, but if it wasn't, the timing was incredibly coincidental. A few months later, in June of 1993, Ted mailed two bombs that exploded just two days apart. The first went to the home of Charles Epstein, a geneticist in Tiburon, California. The second bomb mailed from Utah to the Computer Science Department at Yale, exploded in the hands of Professor David Galerntur. Neither man was killed, but both were severely injured. Even still, the bombs were sophisticated, more so than Ted's last bomb in 1987, and this time, the explosives weren't all that he shipped out.

The day of the Yale explosion, he sent a type of, written letter to the New York Times. The letter claimed the two latest bombs and all of the Unabomber crimes were the work of an unnamed anarchist group and promised more information to come. Ted signed it, FC. After more than six years, the Unabomber was back, and this time, Ted was determined to make his message louder and clearer than ever before. His letter seemed to promise two things, more information and more bomb. Coming up, Ted finally gets the platform he craves, and it brings his undoing at last. I knew about investing, but I really didn't know how to go about it.

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Ted's latest crimes offered the potential for new evidence, and the note he sent to the New York Times was a veritable gold mine. Unfooled by Ted's latest attempts to misdirect them, the FBI extrapolated a surprisingly accurate picture of the Unabomber. They knew they were looking for a loner, someone who struggled with social interactions, particularly with women. Further, they knew he was incredibly smart and even thought he may be a teacher or academic. Despite this, there was little progress. Throughout 1993 and early 1994, the task force followed countless leads, but none of them led to their perpetrator. It seemed Ted was still a step ahead, and he was ready to branch out. In early 1994, Ted became involved with a radical environmental group known as Earth First.

The group believed in using confrontational and often illegal tactics to fight for ecological justice. Ted only attended a few meetings, but the message of the group appealed to him. He saw them as kindred spirits, though his willingness to resort to violence outstrip theirs. At the time, Earth First was livid about the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill and the lack of consequences for those responsible. In particular, they blamed big PR firms for both protecting Exxon and rebuilding their image. They focused most of their attention on the firm of Burson Marsdeler. Though it should be noted that Burson Marsdeller did not work with Exxon, so Earth First's Fury was misdirected. Unfortunately, Ted moved to act before bothering to

check his new friend's Intel. In December of 1994, he traveled to San Francisco, where he mailed a bomb to the New Jersey home of Thomas Moser. Moser was a Burson-Marsteller executive, who worked in corporate crisis management. Moser opened the package in his home, triggering the device, He was killed almost instantly, Ted's first murder in nine years. Upon learning of the death, the FBI turned their attention to Earth First, who'd made no secret of their fury towards Moser. It helped them finally piece together Ted's motives. But as they raced to catch up, Ted doubled down on his environmental crusade.

In April of 1995, Ted mailed another bomb, this won to the former president of the California Forestry Association, a lumber industry lobbying group. The lobby's new president, Gilbert Murray, opened the package in their Sacramento office and was killed in the blast. The massive explosion ripped through the office and its implications ripped across the nation.

The Unabomber's accuracy was improving and the results were deadly. That same day, another letter arrived at the New York Times. In it, Ted finally explained the FC signature he'd included on his bombs and correspondence. He claimed to be a group called the Freedom Club. Whether this was his plan all along or just a decision guided by his early signatures is unclear.

Either way, Ted wrote the letter in a collective voice and called for the complete dismantling of the technological system. He mocked his victims and made it clear that he wasn't finished. Though he likely intended the letter to further confuse investigators, Ted was unknowingly providing the FBI more clues. They sought through his attempt to convince them a group was behind the bombings. What's more, this latest letter added to their growing collection of the bomber's writings. They hoped that analysis of the documents would help them finally track down their criminal.

Still, Ted wasn't afraid. He'd outsmarted the authorities for almost 20 years, and now he wanted to leverage his position to force the publication of his magnum opus. his manifesto detailing a political philosophy that he hoped would change the world. To that end, he played a trick to ensure all eyes were on his actions. He sent a letter claiming he would blow a plane out of the sky via a package sent from the Los Angeles International Airport. This threat was taken so seriously that the airport was almost completely shut down. The United States Postal Service even considered suspending package services altogether.

At long last, Ted had the country right where he wanted them, attentive and afraid, the ultimate captive audience. Satisfied, Ted sent another letter to the media, confessing that the airplane bomb scare was a prank. But he vowed to follow through on the threat if the papers didn't publish Industrial Society and its future, his 35,000-word manifesto in its entirety. The media and the FBI were torn. No one wanted to negotiate with a terrorist, and there was a fear that the Unabomber's ramblings might inspire copycats. Still, he swore the bombings would end once his manifesto was published. So, hoping it would help unmask the killer, the FBI approved the publication. Decades later, it's surprising to see that the manifesto doesn't seem all that radical.

The document largely described the plight of the American worker and an increasing addiction to devices that ruin men's. health and allow tech companies to manipulate the population, as well as the need to protect the environment. Except that's not all Ted wrote about, and his other ideas were harder to swallow. Firstly, he called for the complete rejection and dismantling of industrial society. He wanted the slate wiped clean, a total reset. Secondly, he unapologetically declared that if people had to die, had to be killed, to bring about this new world order.

It was an acceptable sacrifice. On September 19, 1995, the manifesto was published in the New York Times and the Washington Post, along with other papers across the country. Issues carrying Ted's words sold incredibly well, helping finally spread his ideas far and wide. Following the publication of his manifesto, not everyone thought Ted's ideas were completely crazy. In fact, the police sketch of the Unibald. bomber from 1987 became something of a symbol for ecological anarchists. Thankfully, they mostly embraced the philosophy without embracing the violence.

Despite some unsettling hero worship, publishing the manifesto paid dividends. Tips flooded in, and suddenly the FBI had a mountain of information to sort through. Following up, each lead was a momentous task that kept investigators working around the clock. But in Schenectady, New York, one woman held the key to finally unmasking the Unabomber. Linda Patrick, the sister-in-law Ted had never met, read a piece of the manifesto and instinctively recognized what she was seeing. She'd know Ted's writing anywhere. She'd read enough of his angry letters to her husband.

Linda brought her suspicions to David, but at first he brushed off her concerns. Sure, Ted was volatile, but he had a compassionate, caring science. too. Still, Linda was convinced and asked David to at least read the manifesto to see for himself. After he did, David couldn't deny. These were his brother's ideas in his brother's words. His brother, the Unabomber. David knew he had to turn Ted in. If he didn't, more people might die. So with a heavy heart, he contacted the FBI. With all the other tips they'd been receiving from around the country, it took some time for the FBI to follow up on David's information. But once they took a look

at Ted, everything fell into place. David gave Ted's letters to investigators, allowing analysts to match the syntax of his writing to that of the manifesto. They found the Unabomber at last. But now they had to decide how to arrest him without more people getting hurt. In April of 1996, the Unabom Task Force set up an operation in Lincoln to keep a close eye on Ted. They monitored him for 18 days, fearing what may happen if he felt cornered. Still, they eventually felt ready to make their move. The FBI sent a neighbor and two plainclothes agents to Ted's door and asked him to come help them with something in the woods. Once he was out in the open, agents swarmed and quickly placed Ted in handcuffs. Then, unsure about what they'd find, they cautiously entered his secluded

hideaway. Inside the cabin, they found Ted's journals, chemistry books about explosions, a typewriter matching the one used to write the manifesto, wires and bomb parts, and under the bed, a strange package wrapped in tinfoil. It was one final bomb. Ted's backup plan for just such an occasion. It seemed he hoped an agent might be foolish enough to unwrap the bomb, which would destroy his tiny cabin and all the evidence therein. But his plan failed. In the end, the device was yet another smoking gun, tying Ted to his secret identity.

18 years after his first bomb exploded at Northwestern University in Chicago, Ted was finally unmasked as the Unabomber and taken into custody. And when he learned it was his brother who had turned him in, he was livid. In his eyes, it was one more in a lestine. long line of familial betrayals. Meanwhile, David felt no such animosity towards his brother. In fact, he wanted to ensure Ted was spared the death penalty, a goal he shared with Ted's lawyers. They felt sure that the only way to do that was to have Ted declared insane. But Ted had different

ideas. He worried that being diagnosed as insane would discredit his political message, so he told his lawyers that he wouldn't cooperate with any plan involving an insanity plea. But everyone else knew that insanity was their best hope. Even the FBI wanted Ted declared insane, believing it would discourage copycats. So with everyone else in agreement, Ted's lawyers worked on a deal behind his back. When he found out, Ted panicked. He tried to fire his lawyers, telling the judge that he wanted to represent himself. But to do so, he had to prove he was mentally capable.

So he finally submitted to a psychiatric evaluation. Psychiatrist Sally Johnson, initially diagnosed Ted with paranoid schizophrenia, which was a somewhat controversial finding and is no longer recognized as a condition separate from schizophrenia. According to the DSM-5, people with schizophrenia struggle with a break from reality and usually experience delusions or hallucinations. Usually a schizophrenia diagnosis would be a strong foundation for a legal insanity defense in most states. However, Ted's case deserves a closer look. As much, Much as Ted's behavior seems to support this diagnosis, it only works if his actions represent

a break from reality. To do this, Dr. Johnson labeled two of Ted's thought patterns as delusions. First, his belief that technology was hurting society, and second, his assertion that his difficulties in life came from, quote, psychological verbal abuse by his parents. But are those thoughts really delusional? of Ted's political ideas were extreme for his time, and his anger towards his parents might seem like an overreaction. But do either of these things rise to the level of delusion?

It's debatable. There's another hiccup. Ted didn't seem to display any other symptoms of schizophrenia, but two are technically required to make a diagnosis. Delusions alone are not enough. However, it's important to note that questions about Ted's mental capacity aren't meant to diminish his actions or his guilt, he sent 16 bombs across the United States murdering three people in the process. But Dr. Johnson's diagnosis raises questions about Ted's culpability.

Was Ted separated from reality and acting based on delusions, or were his actions lucid and intentional violence? Unfortunately, the answer is unclear, even to this day. Fortunately for Ted, the question was never really considered in court. Even with Dr. Johnson's diagnosis, the judge declared Ted fit to stand trial, but refused to allow him to represent himself. What happened next is a little confusing. After his desperate attempt to represent himself failed, Ted finally agreed to a plea deal. Though as far as we can tell, his concern wasn't solely with avoiding the death penalty. It seems he hoped doing so would keep Dr. Johnson's psychological. report out of any official court records. In exchange for his plea, he was sentenced to life in prison.

Ever since, Ted has remained behind bars, publishing political writings from his cell in Colorado. Unsurprisingly, he uses none of his abundant free time to correspond with the brother who betrayed him. Genius or not, Ted seems incapable of understanding that it was his brother who did the right thing. Intellect, it seems, doesn't make someone better equipped to navigate the world or help them understand the inherent difference between good and evil. And so Ted turned his brain to dark deeds, a super villain for an ordinary world. He leveraged his genius, building untraceable bombs and staying off the FBI's radar for years. But in this story, the supervillain didn't have a hero to battle.

The force Ted opposed was modern society itself, and he tried to mold the world to fit his vision. Like fiction's most complex villains, Ted's grand ideas weren't all wrong, but his methods, the price he wanted others to pay for them? That's the kicker. Change for good rarely comes from evil deeds. And in the end, all that Ted's earned him was a jail cell and a place in infamy. again for tuning it to serial killers.

We'll be back soon with a new episode. You can find all episodes of Serial Killers and all other Spotify originals from Parcast for free on Spotify. We'll see you next time. Have a killer week. Serial Killers is a Spotify original from Parcast. Executive producers

include Max and Ron Cutler, sound designed by Scott Strannick with production assistance by Ron Shapiro, Carly Madden, and Aaron Larson. This episode of serial killers was written by John McDonough with writing assistance by Joel Callan, fact-checking by Haley Milliken, and research by Brian Petrus and Chelsea Wood. Serial Killers stars Greg Paulson and Vanessa Richardson.