Sightings - Pharaoh's Curse: Egypt, 1922

Episode Date: February 10, 2025

Every archaeologist dreams of making the discovery of a lifetime. But in the Valley of the Kings, one hapless soul is about to learn that some treasures were meant to stay buried. Sightings is a REVERB and QCODE Original. Find us on instagram @sightingspod Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You hear that? Ugh, paid. And done. That's the sound of bills being paid on time. But with the BMO Eclipse Rise Visa Card, paying your bills could sound like this. Earn rewards for paying your bill in full and on time each month. Rise to rewards with the BMO Eclipse Rise Visa Card.

Terms and conditions apply. at betmgm.com for terms and conditions. Must be 19 years of age or older, Ontario only. Please gamble responsibly. Gambling problem? For free assistance, call the Connex Ontario Health Line at 1-866-531-2600. BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with iGaming Ontario. ["The Last Supper"] Imagine uncovering a door

that hasn't been opened for 3,000 years. Beyond it lies untold treasure and perhaps the greatest discovery in archaeological history. But as the ancient seal breaks and stale air rushes forth, ask yourself what else might escape from that long forgotten tomb. Because sometimes, disturbing the past comes with a price. One paid not in gold, but in blood.

Welcome to Sightings, the series that takes you inside the world's most mysterious supernatural events. Each week we bring you a thrilling story that puts you at the center of the action, followed by a discussion that dives into the accounts that inspire the story and our takes on them. I'm McCloud. And I'm Brian. And today, we're heading to the sands of Egypt in the days after King Tutankhamun's tomb

was opened. When members of the archaeological expedition begin dying of unusual circumstances, the survivors can't help wondering if this is a case of coincidence or a curse. Find out what fate befalls them on this episode of Sightings. My name is Howard Carter. I... Bloody roof angled thing. I'm told this device is the newest technology straight from America, yet

it seems impossible to... oh wait, I... I stand corrected. It is functioning. So then... My name is Howard Carter. The date is 30th November 1922. My name is Howard Carter. The date is 30th November 1922. And though the world already knows of my achievement, I must make a record for myself and for posterity. Because I've done it. Against all odds, I've uncovered the tomb of Tutankhamun. Er, context. Yes, I should provide context. Which means I must take you to the valley of the tombs of the kings, the setting of this great adventure.

And the very name is full of romance, isn't it? Wind-swept dunes stretching endlessly toward the horizon, limestone cliffs rising like the very bones of the earth, and the sunsets. Oh, breathtaking. As if the sky itself is trying to match the splendor of the treasures buried below. You can't help feeling like you're part of something more. Something greater. Yet, there's also something about the place that attunes one's mind to solitude.

And yes, quite alone was how I felt these six long seasons. Six years of excavation. Two hundred thousand tons of earth moved bucket by bucket through scorching heat. And for what? Season after season we came up empty, finding no tombs at all. But my benefactor, the great lord Carnarvon, was as stubborn as I, and we were convinced that so long as a single area of untouched ground remained, the risk was worth taking. So risk we did, and though Carnarvon naturally retired back to England as the season grew weary, the rest of my team remained. And four weeks ago, just as we were setting Ho to ground in what felt like one last despairing effort,

it finally happened. A discovery that far exceeded our wildest dreams. The tomb revealed itself first as a passage, ten feet high by six feet wide, descending into the earth as if leading to the underworld itself, and as we excavated further we found a sealed door, and there required all the control I could muster not to break down that door right then and there, for Lord Carnarvon was in England, and in fairness to him, I had to delay matters until he could come. So the tomb lay in wait, reburied so as not to reveal its location until Carnarvon arrived, and one week ago he finally did. The passage was again cleared and a breach made in the doorway so that I

might peek inside. At first I could see nothing, as the hot air escaping from the chamber caused my candle flame to flicker, but presently, as my eyes grew accustomed to the light, I saw it. Gold. I must have been silent with amazement for Lord G'narvan asked if I saw anything, and I could only reply, yes, wonderful things. Soon I entered the tomb. Three, maybe four thousand years had passed since humans last trod that floor, and the air itself felt ancient, thick with dust and mystery, and something else I couldn't quite place. Then my gaze fell upon the artifacts. Oh, the artifacts!

Golden objects of all shapes and sizes, and of quality befitting a king. There were ceremonial beds carved with divine beasts, chariots inlaid with precious stones, and vases of alabaster and gold, all gleaming as if it had been polished yesterday. But it was strange, the walls, all painted with scenes of the afterlife, also appeared adorned with a strange pink film that shimmered in our lamplight, almost like it was responding to our presence. But that worried me not. We were on the threshold of the greatest discovery in archaeological history, and I desired to know whose tomb this was. Fortunately, the answer came quickly, as we found another sealed doorway, inlaid with inscriptions and one magnificent name, Tutankhamun, the boy king, and the very pharaoh whose tomb

we'd been hoping to find. Further, this discovery meant the room in which we stood was merely an antechamber, and beyond this door were surely other rooms, possibly a succession of them. And in one, beyond any shadow of a doubt, we should find the Pharaoh himself lying in wait. But excavation, if anything, is an art of patience. So we must inventory the contents of the antechamber before entering the tomb itself. And while I must exercise restraint for now, I am confident that in time, the reward will be unimaginable. I've presently been called back to the valley, so this is all I have time for now.

But on a final note, I must address one point. I've seen reports that there was an inscription within the antechamber, one which read, Death shall come on swift wings to whoever toucheth the tomb of the pharaoh. This of course is Tommy Rot, and that is all I shall say about that. So now, to officially end this transmission, or recording, or whatever it is called, I don't know what to say. I've found it. Until my next record. Sincerely, yours, Howard Carter. The date is February 17th, 1923, and what a glorious day it is for today. I laid eyes on Tooting Common himself. I must admit it has been longer than expected since my

last record, but the cataloguing of the outer chamber took far longer than expected, and this morning our wait paid off as we broke the seals of Tutankhamun's burial chamber to discover if the Pharaoh remained inside you. The task of opening the door itself, of course, fell to me, and I must admit it was nerve-wracking. Lord Carnarvon was there alongside a handful of anxious dignitaries, but as I removed stone after stone a gap finally opened, revealing a wall of gold. And as the aperture became larger, I realized what was barring our view

was an immense golden shrine that contained the actual burial chamber of the king. We'd found him, toot in common, the boy king, at last revealed. In the look of, one moment, I'll be there in a moment. In the look of awe on everyone's faces, especially that of Lord Carnarvon, it was nearly as priceless as the treasures we'd uncovered. Oh, goodness me, what a remarkable day. And mark my words, it will echo through the ages. Until next, sincerely yours, Howard Carter.

I, um, I report, um, quite unexpectedly in poor spirits and with bad news. For my friend and benefactor, Lord Carnarvon has passed beyond. Ah, what a terrible loss. For his family, for Egypt, for the whole of humanity. Because Lord Carnarvon, he was the spark, you see. His dedication to the art of exploration has reshaped history as we know it. And... Oh dear me. I must compose myself. Good God. The sting of this loss is great. And to think his cause of death was but a silly trifle.

A mosquito bite that became infected, triggering blood poisoning. I've seen strange things happen here, as the desert can be an unforgiving place. But this, I must say, has baffled me and left me... ...left me quite shaken. Heh, even worse, I've already heard rumours blaming his death on this ridiculous notion of a curse, including several reports that the power in all of Cairo went out at the moment Lord Carnarvon passed. Being in the Valley of the Kings at the time, I cannot report on the veracity of such claims, other than to say that it sounds like, at best, a freakish coincidence.

Still, many within my circle have grown frightened. My driver even approached me this morning to tell me something he witnessed on the day we first opened Tutankhamun's tomb. He said that upon arriving at my villa, he was shocked to find that a cobra had infiltrated my prize canary's cage and eaten him whole. Of course, my driver is a native Egyptian, and said that such an occurrence was a terrible omen, and that the death of Lord Carnarvon cemented in his mind that the curse must be real. I do not mean to sound dismissive, yet I must reaffirm my stance

that such beliefs are absolute nonsense. There is no curse on that tomb. Indeed, the sentiment of the Egyptologist is not one of fear, but of respect and awe. We are entirely opposed to foolish superstitions. And yet, I cannot dismiss that my demeanor is shaken. Surely this is just the pain of loss. Nevertheless, the excavation of the tomb shall continue in Lord Carnarvon's memory. Here in the Valley of the Kings, we will finish what we... Oh! I've heard something outside my tent. It's surely nothing, but at this hour...

Shoo! Shoo, I say! It's surely nothing, but at this hour... Shoo! Shoo, I say! Go on with you! How strange. There was a jackal, dark as night, and a true copy of Anubis, the Guardian of the Dead, standing just outside my tent. In over 35 years of working this desert, I've... I've never seen such a creature. Oh, some may say this is another omen. I assure you it is not.

And yet, if I must be completely objective, I... I would be remiss to wonder if something was happening here. Something not quite explainable. Something, uh, no. Nonsense, all of it. Good night. This episode is brought to you by Samsung Galaxy. Ever captured a great night video only for it to be ruined by that one noisy talker? With audio erase on the new Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra, you can reduce or remove unwanted noise and relive your favorite moments without the distractions. And that's not all. New Galaxy AI features like NowBrief will give you personalized insights based on your

day schedule so that you're prepared no matter what. Buy the Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra now at Samsung.com. Clear your schedule for you time with a handcrafted espresso beverage from Starbucks. Savor the new small and mighty Cortado. Cozy up with the familiar flavors of pistachio or shake up your mood with an iced brown sugar oat shaken espresso. Whatever you choose, your espresso will be handcrafted with care at Starbucks. This is Howard Carter. It is...

Oh, what is it? This is Howard Carter. It is April 15th 1923 and I record this message with a heavy heart. Death it seems has taken up residence in our expedition. George J. Gould is gone. The poor man visited the tomb just last month and within days developed a terrible fever that consumed him entirely. The doctors said they've never seen anything like it, his temperature rose so high it nearly boiled his blood. In his final hours he was delirious, speaking of golden figures standing at the foot of his bed, watching him. Then A.C. Mace, my dear friend and irreplaceable member of my excavation team, succumbed to

a vicious pneumonia that seemed to appear from nowhere. The doctors were baffled by its intensity, and his wife said that in his final moments he tried desperately to tell her something about the pink film we found in the antechamber, something about how it moved against the air like it had a wheel of its own, but death took him before he could finish. And now, now Richard Bathel, my trusted secretary, has passed as well. Found smothered in his bed in Mayfair, of all places, after returning to London for a family gathering. The police found no signs of struggle, no evidence of an intruder, yet the look on his face, they say it was a mask of absolute terror. These were not merely colleagues.

They were friends, companions, and now they are gone. I've seen reports circulating that I too have fallen ill. Utter nonsense! I remain in perfect health, yet I cannot shake this creeping darkness that seems to have invaded my waking hours. The deaths, the whispers of curses. It weighs on me. Further, I cannot stop thinking of the jackal I saw that night, or the cobra that killed my canary. The royal cobra, symbol of pharaonic power. If it even truly happened, of course. But I mustn't entertain such thoughts. Still, I feel as though rumours are swirling around me. I even received the most peculiar letter from Arthur Conan Doyle himself, suggesting

that an evil elemental may have caused Lord Carnarvon's fatal illness. Ha! Preposterous, of course. We found no inscriptions within the tomb suggesting any curse, and none of Tutankhamun's belongings indicate vengeance or ill will. Despite all of this, terrifying dreams plague my nights. I find myself back in the burial chamber, standing before the sarcophagus. The lid begins to move of its own accord, sliding away with an otherworldly scraping sound. Then a withered hand emerges, reaching for me with desperate malice.

I awaken a cold sweat every time, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. Perhaps I'm simply working too hard. Yes, that must be it. That must be. My apologies. I thought I saw something move in the corner of my office just now. A shadow, perhaps. My apologies. I thought I saw something move in the corner of my office just now. A shadow, perhaps. But no. Just the lamp flickering.

Although the flame seems to be bending the wrong way. Wind! Air current! Stop it! Compose yourself, man! I'm not sure how much more of this I can bear. It's May 3rd, 1923. I... This is Howard Carter. And I must get this out while my thoughts are still coherent. Last week, we removed Tutankhamun's mummy from his tomb and transported him to Cairo for study. First to examine the remains was Sir Archibald Douglas Reed, esteemed radiologist. He was in the same room as the mummy for some two hours, and two days later he was dead.

Just gone. But that's not the worst of it, no, not by far. When we unwrapped the mummy, dear God, when we unwrapped him, there was a wound on his cheek, a wound that exactly, exactly matched the spot where Canarvon was bitten by that cursed mosquito. How is that possible? How can that be anything but — — — —

— — — — — be anything but a blast. Forgive me, my hands are shaking. I haven't slept restfully in days. The dream comes every night now, more vivid than ever. I can smell the musty air of the tomb, feel the ancient dust beneath my feet. The sarcophagus opens, that desiccated hand reaches out, and now, now I can see his face. Tittin' Common's face, eyes blazing with ethereal fire. Then last night the dream changed. I wasn't myself anymore. I was him. I felt the linen wrappings against my skin.

Felt the weight of the golden death mask upon my face. I felt the rage, the violation as modern hands disturbed my eternal rest. And they woke up screaming in a tongue I've never heard. And if all that wasn't enough, there are the whispers. They started the night we moved the mummy to Cairo, and at first I thought it was just wind through my window shutters. but no, it's a voice, speaking that same foreign tongue from my dream, coming from everywhere, from nowhere. There it is again. Can you hear it? No, of course you can't. This is just a recording.

But they're there, they're always there now, whispering, chanting, growing louder with each passing night. Sometimes I think I can almost understand them, almost grasp what they're trying to tell me. Then they vanish on the wind. Then there is the matter of the artefacts in my office. It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I think they've begun moving when I'm not looking. The changes were small at first.

A scarab paperweight on the wrong side of my desk. A canopic jar positioned just out of place. Am I simply forgetting moving these things of my own volition? Yes, yes, yes, most assuredly. Or might it be something else? I sound a lunatic, I know, but I fear my at once strong mind might be losing its grasp of reality. At a minimum all joy of discovery has abandoned me. For this find, my life's work, is becoming something else entirely. Something dark. Something hungry.

I should never have opened that tomb. May 15th, 1923. This may be my final record and forgive my speaking quietly at this. It's silly, really. Tommy rot. Absolute Tommy rot. Just... I now believe something has followed me from the desert. Something more than bad dreams and voices on the wind. I catch glimpses of it everywhere. A darkness deeper than shadow, always just at the edge of my vision. Swatching. Waiting. I've tried to continue my work, forged on, despite developments.

Because discovery waits for no one. You understand that, right? You understand my reasons. You must forge ahead. That is the path of the... Explorer. Never mind, I'm speaking nonsense. I recently stopped sleeping entirely. Last night I found hieroglyphs carved into my bedroom wall. Carved from nowhere, even as I sat awake in bed. I know the words, of course.

The dead have awakened. The scales are weighted. Your car is forfeit. Tommy Rot! What a phrase. It's a silly, stupid phrase. Also, the strangest thing occurred today. I was reviewing the photographs we took

of the tomb's interior, and I noticed something that made my blood run cold. In every image, every single one, there's a shadow in the background, a figure, and in each subsequent photo it's closer to the camera, to me. How did I never notice it before? But do you know what's truly frightening? Not the deaths, nor the shadows, nor the dreams. It's the possibility that we were never meant to find that tomb at all. That some secret should have remained buried in the sand. Oh, something's... something now. Something in the air. Can you feel it? It's like static

before a storm. All my hairs are on end. The artifacts in my office, they've started to vibrate just slightly, like they're resonating with something. Can you hear it? It's hard to describe. I've noticed something at my window. A shadow on the balcony just beyond my curtains. But I'll admit no such thing here. No. Not on a recording, no. I'd be labeled a lunatic.

My legacy tainted. But it is there, the shadow. And the proportions, they're... They're all wrong. No! Stay there, you fiend! You're not real! I fear I'm running out of time, so I must confess something here and now, before it's

too late. I have lied on this recording, in my day to day, to you, to everyone, for there was indeed a tablet in the tomb, a warning carved in limestone, death shall come on swift wings to whoever toucheth the tomb of the Pharaoh. I found it the very first day and I destroyed it, smashed it to dust. I couldn't risk the work of superstitions derailing my work, my great discovery. Oh, what a fool I was.

What an arrogant, blind fool. Oh, God, that face! I know that mask! No! Get back! You can't! This isn't... I'm sorry.

I'm sorry! I understand now. My discovery! Not a tube! But a... Door! I understand my discovery, not the truth, but the truth. And I opened it. Sightings will be back just after this. Hello, skeptical geckos and believer beavers, Brian here. And I wanna share one of my favorite podcast recommendations with you. It's called Believing the Bizarre, and it's a paranormal extravaganza that dives into hauntings, cryptids, aliens, conspiracies,

and more. I myself have been listening to Tyler and Charlie for years because they're so much fun. They really do bring an entertaining yet balanced perspective to all things supernatural, and the show really feels like just hanging around the campfire, telling ghost stories with friends. So if you ever thought the Loch Ness Monster could be a ghost, which is a theory I have not heard before, or if you bring a skeptical eye to some conspiracies you read on the internet, I think Believing the Bazaar is going to be right up your alley. conspiracies you read on the internet, I think Believing the Bazaar is going to be right up your alley. They've got new episodes every Tuesday, so check out Believing the Bazaar right now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or, this was maybe the most fun story yet for me. Oh my gosh, are you kidding me?

Ancient Egypt? I mean, just what, Brian, what you did with that story? It was so, with the levels that this guy was experiencing. Carter, whoa, good work. I am stoked. I'm going to try to keep my cool for the, you know, so that we can have a reasonable conversation for everybody. But I am, that was awesome.

Well, I'm glad you liked it. I should say right off the bat, I did take some creative liberties with that story. You know what? Good. That's what I love about ancient stories, and especially like ancient Egypt, Greece, you know, because there's space.

There's space for us to fill it with our imaginations and to fill in the blanks, and that's what creates that mystery and excitement. But anyway, let's talk a little bit about the real stuff behind this story. Did this guy, Carter, actually record a thing? No, he didn't. So to be clear, all of the people who died

and some of the mysterious circumstances surrounding the tomb, those all actually happened. Carter did not die, allegedly, from this curse. So I gave him this arc in the story of kind of descending into madness as he believes that, you know, this curse is befalling him. When in reality, he didn't seem to ever believe that a curse was possible, even though lots of people,

I think as of last count, some 36 people. 36? 36, it's pretty wild. That is terrifying. Oh, wow. It is. Some of them, I think, take a little bit of a stretch of the imagination,

but I think, again, that's what's so cool about this story is that you have so much to play with. And there were a lot of people who genuinely believed that there was a curse and that it was going to kill them. So I really wanted to kind of put us in that head space. Okay. So take us to Egypt and walk us through the actual experience of finding this tomb. As we heard in the story, it took a long time to find it. You know, the Valley of the Kings had been thoroughly picked over over the centuries, essentially, and there was almost nothing left to find. But Carter and Carnivarn, Carnivarn, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv,

but Carter and Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarv, Carnarvon had worked as a team since 1907.

As a reminder, they found the tomb in 1922. So they'd been working for 15 years trying to find this thing without finding anything. So this loss of Carnarvon must have really been hard on Carter, a 15-year partnership. No, absolutely. I imagine that they were really, really close. And also, at the same time, I can only imagine the excitement when they actually found this tomb. And they found it in the most unlikely of places.

There were these huts that were built for workers who were excavating stuff years and years ago. And that's where they found it underneath these huts. So no one ever thought to look there until Carter did. And they found this tomb. And when they got there, there was a door and it was sealed. And it became a global news story when they ended up finding it.

Wow. So they start pulling all this stuff up. You know, it seems to me in my modern brain kind of obvious, the notion that like, well, yeah, you'd be worried about a curse in here. But that's, I think, because it's the idea of a mummy's curse has entered our popular, you know, imag about a curse in here. But that's I think because it's the idea of a mummy's curse has entered our popular, you know, imaginations and lexicons. Back then, was there any basis for belief in a curse?

There was. It was a popular culture thing back then. That said, curses actually weren't that common in ancient Egypt. As a concept? Yeah. There are instances of people finding writing that have threats, essentially. But they're almost always paired

with a blessing of some kind. The threat always seems to be a secondary element. For instance, you enter this tomb or pyramid or whatever, and there's writing that says, praise this dead person, and here's a blessing about them. But if you don't, bad things might happen to you. Right, right. It was more like, don't speak ill of the dead. Be cool.

Yeah. There are a few slightly more overt curses on old kingdom tombs, though. And one of them has an inscription, for instance, that says, quote, as for all men who shall enter this tomb, impure, there will be judgment, and end shall be made for him. I shall cease his neck like a bird. I shall cast the fear of myself onto him." So that sounds pretty ominous, I guess. Yes, it does. But really, it's not like it was happening all the time. It's not like Egyptologists were worried about it really,

because it just was a very uncommon occurrence. The moment they opened the tomb though, and this became a global news story, rumors started swirling right away that there was a curse written on a tablet, just like in the story. Death will come to the who enters my tomb kind of thing. But that's never been found, that tablet.

That has never been found. So I kind of played with the idea in the story that maybe Carter actually did find it and destroyed it. I think it's a really cool character insight. But it's undeniable that as soon as they open that tomb, you know, even before they got to the burial chamber, Canarvon was bitten on the cheek by a mosquito, and then he nicked the wound while shaving.

A few days later, he soon had fever. He collapsed, blood poisoning, pneumonia, and he died. That sounds like a believable way to go back then. You have a dirty razor and you're out in the desert. There's also the mosquito itself might have given him malaria or who knows what. I'm not right off the bat like, oh, that must be the curse. Oh, absolutely. I agree with that.

But that's just the first of many who will end up dead by the end of this conversation. Yeah. It's the sheer number. That's when it starts to feel like a curse, like just the first of many who will end up dead by the end of this conversation. Yeah, it's the sheer number. That's when it starts to feel like a curse, like just the sheer number. Absolutely. But I can only imagine what the other people who were in this archaeological party started thinking as soon as, you know, Carnarvon dropped dead. And within days, there's headlines in the newspapers.

The sensationalism spun up. Absolutely. And there were reports in newspapers that at the moment of his death, the continental hotel where he was staying was plunged into darkness. Others have said that all of Cairo were plunged into darkness. And it has been said that the mummy did

have a wound on his cheek in the same place as... Which is a really cool coincidence or, you know, potential connection. Mm-hmm. Tell me more about the other deaths. How rapidly did they occur or was this like 36 people died over 36 years? Yeah. I definitely compressed stuff for the story.

Some of them happened relatively quickly. A lot of them happened. It was kind of a trickle effect. Sure. George J. Gould, he was a very wealthy railroad magnate. He went in the tomb and he died of pneumonia within a few days. That was in the year that they opened the tomb. In 1923, Lord Carnarvon's half-brother died. That was after a long illness, but still some have attributed that to the curse. In 1924, Sir Archibald Reed,

the radiologist, dies. It should be noted though that he had been ill with cancer for three years, as a lot of radiologists had cancer from all the x-rays that they were doing. And then from there, it kind of starts every year or two, you know, someone starts to die. So in 1926, there was this French Egyptologist, he fell outside the tomb and then died. In 1928, Arthur Mace, who was another Egyptologist, he was also the co-author of books with Carter about the discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb, he died of arsenic poisoning, but no one knows how or why he was poisoned. Wow. Even in the 1970s, the curse is theoretically still going. The British Museum had struck

a deal to exhibit artifacts, and the director of antiquities who oversaw the transport of these items from King Tut's tomb died the day after he oversaw this transport. So like I said, 36 people, it sounds like. But Carter, the guy you would think most responsible? Yeah, he did not theoretically die of the curse. Some people have said, oh, it was still the curse. It just took a while to get him. He died in 1939. He was 64 years old.

He died of heart disease. And unlike in the story, as I said, you know, he was entirely skeptical of the entire concept of a curse. He did call him the story, as I said, he was entirely skeptical of this entire concept of a curse. He did call him Tommy Rot, which I love that phrase. Yeah, it's a great phrase. So are there other curses or is this kind of like the one? I feel like this is the most famous one, but there is an instance of an Egyptian artifact

potentially causing disaster and torment for people. In 1912, a mummy was loaded into the storage compartment of a ship heading to America. One of the passengers on board the ship, he was an English journalist and spiritualist. He learned that the mummy was on board the ship and started telling everyone about it, kind of whipping up a tale about like, oh, there's this cursed object on the ship and things like that. And everyone's like, oh, this is fun. This is so interesting. You're making my voyage across the ocean a lot more interesting and exciting. Until the ship hit an iceberg because that ship was the Titanic. Oh, what?

Yeah. Whoa. Yeah. So that reporter and seven of the eight passengers that he had dinner with the night before and presumably was extolling the whole tales of curses upon them. They all died. But the coffin that theoretically contained, I don't remember the name of the mummy, but it was put on a lifeboat because as we know from the movie Titanic, no people were on the lifeboats. We must protect the treasure.

Yeah. So yeah, so that's kind of a big one. Also, this is not an Egyptian thing, but the Hope Diamond, which is a really famous piece of jewelry. It's originally from India, is that correct? It's from India, that's right. It has left a trail of death and misfortune in its wake, especially in the early 20th century. So both of those events,

I feel like could have led to a profound interest in curses and ancient stuff, you know, when they opened up Toopin' Commons tomb in 1922. Yeah. So the notion of cursed treasure was already on people's minds, which I think is kind of, it's a pretty natural phenomenon if you, you know, attaching curses or bad omens or bad things happening to essentially wealth, to objects of desire, because more money, more problems, basically. And so it doesn't strike me as odd that like money, treasure, would have curses attached

to them. And I think any grave robbing is not an awesome thing to be doing. Well, no. I'm all for archaeology. But the Egyptians in particular, they took death very, very seriously. King Tut wasn't just buried in his sarcophagus in a hole in the ground. He was there with all of the objects, you know, chariots and supplies and equipment and all the things that he could need in the afterlife.

So for someone to go in there and disturb that, I'm surprised there weren't more curses on all of the things in Egypt. That's kind of what I thought too. It's like there's more than 36 people who have been involved in these, this thing. Yeah. So let's talk about the numbers. Yeah, let's look at the numbers. So like I said, as of the sources that I read,

there were 36 people whose deaths have been attributed to the curses in one way or another. So the first time they went in, there were 25 people who entered the tomb. Of those 25 people, Lord Carnarvon was the only one who got sick and died, at least within the first several months. Then once they opened up the actual burial chamber, there were 58 people

present there. Only eight of those people died over the following decade. So it's not like people were dropping like flies here. So I want to know kind of what's the skeptical gecko take on this? What's the believer beaver take on this right now based on what we know? Kind of tell me where your head space is right now. My skeptical gecko is kind of telling me none of these deaths, especially for the time period, can necessarily be attributed to a curse. I think right off the bat, you have to remove all the people who had pre-existing illnesses, like the radiologist who had cancer. I'm like, come on, he died of cancer because he was being exposed to radiation every day,

probably with very little protection. You know, people died of pneumonia, people died of malaria, and the fact that it's spread out over various years feels to me like people creating a story. Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm. to me like people creating a story. And on the believer beaver side, it's just cool. I mean, it's kind of like irresistible story. And it's, you also can't, you can't prove a negative. You can't prove there's not a curse. That's valid, yeah. And so there's that little bit of like, well, yeah.

Yeah. And I really do like what you had to say about it's just it's a compelling story And because also there's like a moral behind it. There's like a value system Undergirding the curse which is you know, like well, yeah, don't go plundering people's graves. Maybe do you have any other theories that could explain? Well, I'm wondering if there are any existing theories out there There's one that I could find easily at least. Okay. You know, and it was hinted at in the story. They entered the tomb, there was this weird pink film on some of the objects, that's true.

There's been the notion that there's a toxin of some kind or bacteria or fungus or whatever in these tombs. In the case of King Tut's tomb, I think there's an argument to be made for some kind of bacterial exposure because, like I said, these pharaohs were buried with everything but the kitchen sink, basically. And in King Tut's case, that included 48 cases of raw meat and poultry, which had been sitting there for, you know, 3,000 years, basically. And there is a type of bacteria that scientists have identified that is a feature of spoiled meat.

And it was found in some of these burial chambers. And according to the CDC, this thing can infiltrate the bloodstream through wounds and open sores like a mosquito bite or a shaving nick or something like that. And critically, it can lead to pneumonia, which is the same disease that killed Lord Carnarvon. Yeah, I find the germ theory of it all very compelling, especially given the time. In the end, I still would personally, will not like to believe this because it's horrible,

but that the mummies were showing up and dragging people out of rooms. Well, that's what I wanted to say, Brian. I wanted to say that, like, you know, it's very suspect in this whole curse that Carter was untouched by this thing. But I like the story that you posit that his torment was not a quick death, but a mental torture over years and years of watching everyone around him die.

His was actually the cruelest fate of all. That's a really cool thought. I hadn't thought of it from that angle yet. That's why I love your wrap-ups on all these episodes. You're so good at it. Well, there you go. But listeners, I doubt any of you are active archaeologists. You're Egyptologists right now. I don't know. We've come across some really talented interesting listeners. So if you have a theory on this definitely send it our way

We're on Instagram at sightings pod or leave us come on Spotify Yeah, and as much as I don't want to leave this one behind because it's so cool I know that wherever you're gonna take us next week is gonna be awesome as well. So give us a hint It's also gonna be a little bit terrifying think, but we are heading back to America. We're going to Arizona, and we're going to a ranch. I will say that. A ranch in Arizona. Okay. I have things percolating. So listeners, come back, see us same time, same place for another exciting, thrilling slash terrifying episode of Sightings.

Have a good week everybody. Sightings is hosted by McLeod Anders and Brian Sigley. Produced by Brian Sigley, Chase Kinzer and McLeod Anders. Written by Brian Sigley. Music by Mitch Bain. Mixing and mastering by Pat Kickleiter of Sundial Media. Artwork by Nuno Cernanos. For a list of this episode's sources, check out our website at sightingspodcast.com. Sightings is presented by Reverb and Q-Code.

If you like the show, be sure to subscribe on your favorite podcast platform so you're first to hear new episodes every week. And if you know other Supernatural fans, tell them about us. We'd really appreciate it.