Stuff You Should Know - The Shark Diaries

Episode Date: August 14, 2012

In this special episode of Stuff You Should Know, Chuck and Josh tip their hats to Shark Week with an old-fashioned radio play. Join the guys (and a few guests) as they present a dramatization of the 1916 Jersey Shore shark attacks. Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.comSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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This is Operation Trade Bomb, an Apple original podcast hosted by Mark Smerling. Follow Operation Trade Bomb on Apple podcasts. Welcome to Stuff You Should Know from HowStuffWorks.com. Hey, and welcome to the turn of the century radio play. How's it going, Chuck? Great. How are you? I'm doing good.

People are like, this sounds not like a radio play. No, it will. Yes. Very soon. This is a very special Stuff You Should Know in honor of Shark Week. That's right. We're doing something different. Something that Mr. Charles W. Chuckers Bryant put together, a group of radio diaries I guess

you could say. Yeah. I think we touched on the shark attacks at the Jersey Shore and Madowan Creek in 1916 in a previous podcast. How shark attacks work? Yeah. And are dogs a shark's favorite meal? That's right, because a dog was actually in the water when the first victim was attacked.

This is the story that inspired Jaws, Peter Benchley. And it is the famous, and there's been a lot of specials on this, like some pretty good ones. Well, it's pretty sensational. It's hugely sensational. I would call this, though, the special of all specials on this. You did a great job. You think so?

Yeah. Well, thank you. So we want to give you a little backstory so you know what you're listening to. Mm-hmm. Then we want to introduce the players to this little radio play. Yeah. Or I guess you'd call it a podcast play. Yeah.

And so you know who you're listening to and what you're listening to. Well, Chuck, let's talk about the attacks, right? What year is this? 1916. That we're going back to. 1916. That's when beach recreation was, like, new. The frozen banana had just been invented.

Yes, sort of. But this was the first time, like, this was the beginnings of, like, massive amounts of people going to the beach, dude swimming in the ocean. Ladies just starting to show a little ankle. Just dipping their toe in. Yeah. Mainly the men out there swimming. In their one-piece, like, weightlifters uniform bathing suits, right?

That's right. And it was just, like, a beautiful time to be alive in America. And so this is the Jersey Shorts, much like the Jersey Shorts today, where if you live in New York or Philly, this is where you're going when it's hot. Yeah, also very different, I imagine. Right. But this is the origin of that time. Yeah.

Or of that movement. Absolutely. Love. So this would all come screeching to a halt over the course of 12 days with five different victims, four of which died on two on the Jersey Shore and then two more on an inland tidal creek. That's crazy. And Madowan.

Yeah. Or Madowan. So the first attack takes place on July 1, 1916, right? Yeah. And people thought it was a fluke. Yeah. It was a Philly vacationer named Charles Van Zant and he died five days later. There was another attack on the shore.

So yes, now all of a sudden you have the entire nation's attention. Oh, yeah. Because everyone was like, a guy got attacked by a shark, it never happens, totally unusual occurrence. Five days later in the same area, there's another one. Yes, a Swiss man attacked on the shore and then after that is when, they don't even know, shark or sharks moved inland to a tidal creek and like kids swimming in this creek thinking it's completely safe, boy dies, man dies trying to save boy, another boy severely injured.

And it was pretty nuts after that. Like President Wilson got involved, it was like a nationwide frenzy because no one had ever known about shark attacks before. Oh, yeah. Yeah, this is like the first thing, it was like an anomaly. Oh, okay. So you were basically like a sailor to know about a shark attack. I think so, yeah.

Okay. Wow, this is a heck of an introduction. It is. So that's what we got going on. We'll introduce the players now. Next up, you're going to hear, and these are lost diaries that we found from the scene. Right. We should point out.

Oh, I thought that was a given. It is. Dr. John T. Nichols is played by tech stuffs, Jonathan Strickland. He is regarded as the first American ichthyologist and worked with his mentor, Dr. Frederick Lucas, who was very, they were kind of at odds for a while on this. Like Lucas was like, eh, that's not a shark, sharks don't do that. And so, Nichols went to the scene, and he was kind of who Matt Hooper was based on. Awesome.

Love Jaws. Next up, you're going to hear Louise Van Zant, who was the sister of the first victim, Charles. Okay. And she was played by Rachel Frank, who- Coolest stuff on the planet. Yeah, was doing that. I don't know. Is she still doing that?

Formerly of coolest stuff. That's what I thought. And she actually saw her brother, like from the beach, get attacked in the water. Started up, we have Stanley Fisher, and then Mary Anderson after that, and they were burgeoning love relationship in Madawan between these two. Stanley was a local tailor, a very well-loved dude, and Mary Anderson was a school teacher, and they were just like starting their courtship when Stanley perished right in front of her face.

Gosh. In the creek. I mean, think about it. It's bad enough to see someone killed by a shark. Somebody that you care about killed by a shark. It's got a really, like, leaving impression. I would say so. And Stanley Fisher is voiced by Robert Lamb.

Stuff to blow your minds, Robert Lamb. That's right. And Mary Anderson is voiced by the former, I guess she's still Katie Lambert, the former stuff you missed in history class, right, who's now departed from our work ranks. I think that was probably good to point that out. Katie's still doing great. And then finally, we have Joseph Dunn, who was one of the little boys who actually survived. This is crazy, man.

Are you really going to tell everybody who does Joseph Dunn? I don't think so. Okay. I think we should just leave it. The mystery boy. Okay. Let's see who Joseph Dunn is. The mystery boy.

Who is of legal age to be acting in a podcast play without any kind of, like, child labor laws being broken, right? That's right. And Joseph, he was actually from New York, and he and his brother Michael went to visit his aunt and uncle in Cliffwood, New Jersey, and go swimming in the creeks there with their buddy Jerry Hauerhand, and things turned pretty gruesome for all of them. Jeez. So, some rotten luck for the Jersey Shore in Meadowong Creek.

With that, shall we go ahead and proceed with the SYSK radio play? Okay. What do you call this thing? We'll call it listener mail from a fan in Canada. That's terrible. Okay. How about the shark diaries of the attacks at Meadowong Creek? Okay.

Okay. July 1st, 1916, 4 p.m. Dear Diary, we're headed to Beach Haven on the train, and it could not be any hotter. I'm covered from head to toe in woolen cotton, and it is quite tiresome. I considered trying the ocean out this time, but Father says that women should not bathe with men. Besides, whoever thought wool stockings and seawater go together should be run up a flag pole.

Lead weights in the hem of the skirt, it's as if they're attempting to drown us. Even so, it will be grand to be at the beach for Independence Day. My brother is beside me, making fun of my diary. He has threatened to steal it and share it around his office. I'm sure there would be quite bored with it, though. We must be close to arriving because I can smell the salty air. July 1st, 1916, 5.30 p.m. Dear Diary, the resorts are all booked full, and I bet half of New Jersey and Pennsylvania

are at the shore. Every 15 minutes, a train dispatches another thousand people. It is quite a sight. Who would have thought that the ocean would draw such a crowd? There are young men everywhere, playing cards and keeping an eye out for comers. Father and sister are resting out before dinner, and I'm roasting on the hot sand, watching my brother swim to England, presumably. He promised me a walk on the beach, but befriended a dog that seemed keen for a swim instead.

I call him Patches. Currently, he and Patches are swimming out well past the others, both doing their best in the dog paddle. I can barely see him from here, but he looks to be having loads of fun. He's yelling and waving his arms for Patches, but it looks like the pooch has exhausted himself and is heading back. I'm beginning to think that— July 2, 1916, 2 p.m.

We're derived this morning of an attack on a human in Beech Haven, possibly a shark. Most odd. Naturally, Dr. Lucas has already discounted it, but I wonder. My inexperience next to Lucas is pronounced, yet I doubt his resolve to test his own hypotheses now. He nears retirement, and news of sharks feeding on humans is not something that appears to interest him. His lack of investment was striking.

I need to go to Beech Haven and investigate, but I am bound to the museum. The fish commissioner said that it was likely after a dog in the water with the victim. Put the man to his bone on the right and lost several pounds of flesh on the left. My early thought is a tiger, or perhaps a bull. Lucas is convinced there are no great whites around here. The victim was 25. Very young. July 2, 1916, 3 p.m.

Dear diary. I cannot believe the words that I am about to write. My brother has died. He was swimming far out in the water when the people around me began shouting. I saw a long dark shadow in the water just behind him. A man said that it was a shark, but I don't know. I've never seen one. It had a tall fin that sat high in the water.

It took him by the legs and drew him under. A lifeguard swam out to retrieve him, but it was too late. He was gone by the time he reached shore. The water ran red with his blood around my feet, and I've never felt so helpless in all my life. His left thigh was in shreds all the way to the bone. His right leg was hollowed out from waist to knee. His lifeless face stared skyward.

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Once again, use promo code HEART20 through January 30th to receive 20% off your 2023 trip. 30 years ago, a van exploded in a parking garage below the World Trade Center. The plan was to send the North Tower crashing into the South. It failed, but six people were killed and more than 1,000 injured. The masterminds behind it all were just getting started and would soon change the world forever. Featuring never-before-heard audio, this is a story told by investigators from around the world using double agents and an undercover operative to bring the bomber to justice.

This is Operation Trade Bomb, an Apple original podcast hosted by Mark Smerling. Follow Operation Trade Bomb on Apple Podcasts. July 2nd, 1916, 8.25 p.m. Summer has come upon us fully. It was more than 90 degrees yesterday, and it may have been even hotter today. This has been steady, but slower than it was in the spring and the winter before that. Mary and I went for a walk down by the creek after church on Sunday. She told me about our students, we talked about Madeline.

We both love it here, and don't desire the bright lights of Philadelphia or New York. It is a close community, and we look out for each other. I want to raise a family here. I've grown quite fond of Mary, and I believe that at three weeks it can be called a genuine courtship. She's kind, pretty, smart, and comes from a good family. There's a rumor in town that a man was attacked by a giant fish yesterday at Beach Haven. Captain Cottrell has told us all stories of man-eaters at sea, but has also regaled

us with tales of giant squids and waves as tall as four stories. He's well known to stretch the truth, and his word should be taken with a pinch of salt. July 2, 1916, 7.36 p.m. Dear Diary July Oh, July. I cannot believe I have not written in my diary since the end of the school year. Summer break was supposed to be my time to catch up on this sort of thing.

Oh, well, la-di-da. I am being courted by a man. He's tall and broad with blonde hair and blue eyes, very handsome. He's beloved in town as well. His name is reputable as the mayor himself. He's a tailor and has one of only four shops on Main Street, and is consequently quite a snappy dresser. We took a walk after church on Sunday and talked about life and our hopes and dreams

and our families and our past and our future. I'm just over the moon about it, really. He loves marijuana as much as I do and would not give a nickel for the bells and whistles of Philadelphia. We ran his shop this afternoon and I watched him cut a suit jacket. It was really something, a true art. A strange thing happened as well. And Cotrell came by and told us a man in beach haven was attacked by a fish, perhaps

a shark. Very odd to hear such a thing. July 4th, 1916, 9.15 a.m. Dear diary, today is Independence Day and it's very hot here in New York. Brother is home because it's a holiday for families, we're supposed to think about freedom today but I don't know what they mean. My brother told me there was a man who got eaten by a shark in New Jersey, but I think he's just trying to scare me because we're traveling to visit my aunt's house in Cliffwood

next week. They say a lot of people go to the beach now and swim in the ocean, but we only go in the creek and model one with our friends. We're going to parade later today. My brother said he would buy firecrackers, even though mom said not to. I'm putting a picture of New York in this diary so I can show my friends at Matawan what the city looks like. I hope I get a good mark for my diary writing project when we start school.

I like it. July 3rd, 1916, 5.17 p.m. Dear diary, I decided to take lunch to Stanley today at his shop. I do not want to run him off by calling too much but I missed him so I threw caution to the wind. He seemed very pleased to see me and we made plans to go to the Twin Lights lighthouse at the Atlantic Highlands on the bay. It is going to be just splendid and I can hardly contain myself.

I'll pack a picnic supper and we'll watch the sunset together and then the big fireworks show, my favorite. Stanley traded a man a tailored suit for life insurance today, a Cecil suit which was far too generous. What on earth does a man his age need with life insurance? But that is also what I am growing to love about him. His generosity is only matched by his kindness. He plays baseball with the children and they absolutely adore him.

I want to bring him by the school house this fall to meet my students. Listen to me already planning for fall with him by my side. Oh and I just had to clip out the ad Stanley placed in the Model 1 journal. July 5th, 1916, 11.20 p.m. Dear Diary, I met the lifeguard who tried to save my brother at the funeral. He was very kind. I believe that he did everything he could do to save my brother. No one has ever been attacked by a fish before and many doubt the events as they occurred.

There have long been stories of man-eaters in the sea but I most believe them to be legend. I was there. I know. I saw him flung from the water. I saw his mangled left leg exposed fully to the bone. It had been virtually torn from his body. The Times ran a small story on page 18. My brother deserved more, so much more.

July 7th, 1916, 10.15 a.m. Another shock attack yesterday in New Jersey, Spring Lake. The Times this morning is already all over this event, so much for dodging a media circus. Lucas finally agrees that something is amiss. This is no blasted sea turtle. We have eyewitness accounts this time. It's clear that someone should go to Spring Lake and examine the body. I feel like I'm the most qualified man in New York, maybe even the country.

This may fight me on this. Press conference in the morning at the museum, so we had better get our ducks in a row. Lucas said that the jaw of a shark is not strong or capable of severing human bone. I have grave doubts. July 7th, 1916, 5.30 p.m. Dear diary, it's been almost a week since we lost my dear brother. I found his journal today, and reading his final entry breaks my heart each time my eyes pass over it.

We received word this morning that another bather was killed two days ago at Spring Lake. A bell hop at a local resort. His attack has drawn much more attention than our own, just days ago. I feel terrible for his family. Perhaps in time I can reach out to them. No one seems to know what is happening on our beaches that were so different just days ago. What was previously a welcome distraction from the polio epidemic in New York is now a beach

awash with the blood of our brothers and sons. I pray for the end of summer. July 7th, 1916, 12.15 p.m. Word has come to Madowin that another bather was attacked on the shore yesterday. This time it was Spring Lake, not far from here. If this is true, it is most uncommon. We have never heard of a shark attacking a man, and now we have heard stories of two in just one week.

I imagine that the news will disrupt activity of the shore. Luckily for us, all we have to worry about is the odd catfish nipping our toes. I tried to talk Mary into coming for a swim sometime, but she said she prefers to watch me from the bank. I think she's just being shy. She said that she would not want Captain Cottrell to see her in a bathing gown, and I think she may have a good point. She's smart, she is.

Surely the shark business is just people's imagination getting the best of them. There are no sharks in New Jersey. July 7th, 1916, 2.17 p.m. Stanley just phoned and said that Captain Cottrell reported another shark attack on the shore. They did not believe him at first, but the newspaper confirmed it. It was at Spring Lake this time, which means much more to do about it, I'm sure. Stanley said that a scientist in the paper insisted that sharks do not come to New Jersey,

and even if they did, they would not be interested in humans. I just do not know what to think. Sharks biting people in New Jersey. Who ever heard of such a thing? Stanley swims in the creek, but you would not catch me dead in there. You cannot see six inches into the water. Besides, Captain Cottrell is always running up and down in his motorboat, and let me just say that he will never see me in a skirt in stockings.

The very thought makes me pale. July 8th, 1916, 3 p.m. Press conference went well enough. Lucas was met with questions straight away. The first blasted question asked what he would tell the thirty mayors of the Jersey shore about their beaches. I loathe reporters. We did our best to calm nerves.

Lucas is convinced that it was mistaken identity and that the incidences are merely a sad coincidence. He avoids using words like man-eater and does a much better job with the press than Murphy or I could. Asbury Park has erected wire netting, and that, along with caution, should do for now. It is highly unlikely that we should ever hear of another shark incident on this coast. Even so, this is rich with opportunity for our records. A man has never been attacked by a shark before in the United States. And I go to see him tomorrow.

July 9th, 1916, 2.55 p.m. Just returned from the examination of victim number two, Charles Bruder, Spring Lake, Swiss with no family in the States. The Times was correct in its story. Both legs were taken, one at the knee and one at mid-calf. Lifeguards rode out in the boat this time and pulled his body in. One remarked about how light it was, not realizing initially the legs were missing. Most disturbing.

The flesh was torn in strips, jagged, the bones splintered like wood. There is no doubt that this was the result of a shark. But what species? Could it be a rogue great white? The president has mobilized the Coast Guard. I am reporting news to his men now. July 9th, 1916, 12.30 p.m. Dear diary, my brother told me today in church that another man was eaten by a shark in New

Jersey, but mom said it wasn't true. She said they both got bit and died. The sharks only go into the ocean and I don't need to be scared of them and Madawan. Mom said after supper tonight she's going to talk to her aunt on the telephone and my brother and I could talk to our friend and Madawan because he has a telephone now too. July 10th, 1916, 8 a.m. Dear diary, my brother and I talked to our friend on the telephone last night. It was really swell.

Mom says that he's a hooligan, but my brother said he's a good egg and swims good too. We asked him about the sharks and he said nobody there talked about it, but they are sad. He said we could sneak into the dock at the New Jersey Clay Company and no sharks are there. You're ready to travel in 2023 and since 1981, Gait 1 Travel has been providing more of the world for less. Let Gait 1 handle the planning for you with affordable escort tours and European Riffer

Cruises. Now, through January 30th, use promo code HEART20 to receive 20% off your tour. That's promo code HEART20 through January 30th. Visit Gait1Travel.com for more information or to book your tour. That's GaitTheNumber1Travel.com. Once again, use promo code HEART20 through January 30th to receive 20% off your 2023 trip. 30 years ago, a van exploded in a parking garage below the World Trade Center.

The plan was to send the North Tower crashing into the South. It failed, but six people were killed and more than 1,000 injured. The masterminds behind it all were just getting started and would soon change the world forever. Featuring never-before-heard audio, this is a story told by investigators from around the world, using double agents and an undercover operative to bring the bomber to justice. This is Operation Trade Bomb, an Apple original podcast hosted by Mark Smerling. Also Operation Trade Bomb on Apple Podcasts. After the second attack, a scientist who studies ocean fish came to Spring Lake.

He's having a hard time with the local journalists. They've printed that my brother was bitten by a giant sea turtle. They've written that it was a blood-thirsty rogue shark. The scientist makes claims of sensationalism and pleads for patience. He says that only a great white has been known to attack a human and that there are none in New Jersey. Scientists have hired armed guards to patrol the beaches. They've erected wire nets for bathing areas.

I never want to see the ocean again. July 11, 1916, 9.15 p.m. Dear diary, I'm in bed now, my brother is teasing me. He said that when we go back to Madowan, it's going to be scary. He said that last summer he felt something touch him underwater by the dock, and he said it was a shark probably. I'm supposed to be asleep now because it's my bedtime and we leave early in the morning. I'm scared of the shark, but I don't want him to know because he'll tease me again.

July 12, 1916, 8.11 a.m. Back at the museum at last. Seems like all is calm now. It has been nearly a week since the brutal attack. The media has taken a rest for the time being. There is much research to be done now. Lucas and Murphy are keen to hear my account. Everyone looks to us now for answers, and for now my colleagues are deferring to me as

the only ichthyologist. Popular theories abound. Some sinkings and sailor depths in the North Sea are creating a taste for human flesh. Naval bombings are driving European sharks this way. Some have even said it was a purposeful conspiracy of the Germans to lure us into war. It's tiresome to deal with such poppycock. My strongest inclination is that there is a Pacific weather phenomenon known as El Nino that has shifted the warm Gulf Stream closer to shore.

This has brought sharks that have never been to our waters. Sooner or later. July 12, 1916, 2.15 p.m. I am famished. Mary said she would bring lunch by after she finished her tutoring and she cannot arrive soon enough. In fact, I believe I see her coming my way now. She told me last night to today marks one month from when I first called on her.

It's hard to believe that much time has passed. We should do something special. Maybe I should close the shop early and take her into Philadelphia for dinner. She is closer now and the sun has cast an angelic glow around her head. Or perhaps that is not the sun. I may curse myself by writing it down. But I believe I might love her. July 12, 1916, 7.03 a.m.

Dear diary, I feel positively on cloud nine this morning. Today marks one full month since Stanley first called. Everything is going so well I hate to tempt fate by writing about it. But I think that I may be in love. It gives me goosebumps to even write such a thing. I stopped by his shop yesterday evening and he was going out with Red to play baseball with the boys. He invited me to come along and watch and was surprised to learn that I enjoy the game

very much. It's very exciting to me and there is a great level of skill involved. He is so wonderful with the boys. I love him and fight over whose team he should play on. It has been a full week since any word of shark attacks. We are all relieved to know that it is over. The scientists from New York are learning what happened and trying to decide why this occurred.

It is largely perplexed from. I do not plan to go to the ocean anytime soon even so. I don't like the boys in my class or Stanley swimming much at all but the creek feels like a much safer option. July 12, 1916, 8 a.m. Here diary, I had a bad dream that a giant fish with a big mouth ate me. I don't know if it was a shark because I've never seen one. It was as big as a street car and had long teeth and were red.

I was swimming in the creek with my brother and my friend but they looked different. The fish bit my leg and pulled me in the creek but I came up and I was in the ocean. My aunt was on the beach in a wooden chair but she could not hear me scream. Then, my brother was in a boat beside me and I tried to climb in. He laughed and kicked me until I fell on the ocean and the big fish bit me again until he ate me. I woke up and my brother said I was screaming so I guess I really did scream when I was asleep.

I don't want to go to Maddoin anymore. Maybe I can fake sick and stay in Cliffwood. Then leave on the 9.30 train. July 13th, 1916, 12.15 p.m. Shocking news today. We're then from Maddoin, New Jersey of three shark attacks in the Tidal Creek. This is very difficult to believe and we all suspect that the state has succumbed to shark hysteria.

Maddoin is a full 11 miles inland. Very doubtful. Regardless, Dr. Lucas has dispatched me directly. I depart on the morning train. July 14th, 1916, 3.17 a.m. Dear diary. It is with a broken heart that I write these words. Stanley is dead.

He's gone from me before he was even mine. It has been two days since the awful event. It was a shark, dear God, a shark. It got him right in front of my eyes, in front of the eyes of many. We buried him at two today in the pouring rain. I am unable to sleep or eat. I have hardly moved from my bed. Father said it will take time, but I will never forget the events of July 12th.

The image will haunt me to my grave. July 14th, 1916, 6.14 p.m. Today I examine two of the victims. A man named Fisher, who was trying to retrieve the body of another victim, a boy named Stillwell. Another boy, Joseph Dunn, is the only survivor and is recovering in the hospital. His left calf is torn to pieces. Fisher's injury was similar to the two at the shore. The right thigh had a deep wound and the femoral artery was severed.

There was no way to stop the blood. He was taken in front of dozens of locals, including his new sweetheart. Stillwell was not recovered until the following day. His left ankle was chewed off, left thigh mangled from hip to knee. His left abdominal region was open and his intestines were nearly all torn out. The right hip, chest muscle, and left shoulder were also lost. His right leg and face were the only parts untouched. July 15th, 1916, 9.47 p.m.

I have just returned to my boarding house after two days of chaos. Madowan has turned into a battleground. Men dangle, legs of lamb, and sides of beef from the bridges. There is a near constant barrage of exploding dynamite. Women line the banks with rifles. Their methods are not safe, but I cannot deny my desire to catch the beast. I believe that the shark is moving north and attacking people on its journey. I suspect it is either a rogue white or a tiger shark that has strayed thousands of miles

from its natural environment. July 16th, 1916, 8.13 p.m. Back at the museum again. The shark hunt in Madowan seems to be working, but I doubt that any caught so far are responsible. Could be the work of more than one. A local sea captain named Catrell caught a seven-footer and has it on ice in town, a nickel per viewing. A nine-footer was captured in Long Branch, three hundred twenty-five pounds.

Lucas informed us that a man drowned at the Atlantic Highlands yesterday. People were afraid he was being attacked by a shark. The headlines now reach all the way from London. A parcel was delivered today from the men who captured a seven-footer. It contained human bones taken from the belly and a description. Dark, dull blue, white belly. They said a man's head could fit inside its mouth. Sounds like a small, great white to me.

Upon examination, however, the bones, while human, were from the lower arm. All five victims in New Jersey were attacked at the legs. This means there's been at least one unreported attack. People will never hear the word shark again without feeling fear. July 24, 1916, 12.14 p.m. It has been nearly two weeks since I lost Stanley, though I can still smell him on my clothes. Each day brings new promise only to shatter again.

I feel like the story must be recorded as hard as it is for me to write it. I was at his shop in the afternoon on July 12 when some boys ran down the street by the shop in a panic, shouting about a shark in the creek. I dismissed them at first, but I saw that the boys were naked and pale as ghosts. They said that a shark had taken Lester still well in the creek. Stanley did not hesitate for even a moment. He said that Lester had the fits and that if he did not get to him soon, he would be finished.

He grabbed Redd and Arthur Smith and was gone before I could stop him. I arrived at the creek several minutes after Stanley. He was in a rowboat with Arthur and Redd searching for Lester. They dragged chicken wire under the boat to try and find him. The water was red with blood and people began to arrive in a panic. Stanley became frustrated and suggested they dive for him. They all changed into bathing suits behind a tree and one by one entered the water. They searched for a while and were losing hope and cold.

Redd said they should call it off and they all began to come to the bank. Stanley decided to take one more dive. He went deeper than before, you could tell. Stanley surfaced, holding what remained of Lester still well in his arms. He was walking toward the bank knee deep in water when the beast took him by the right leg. He dropped Lester and yelled, he's got me, the shark's got me. Those words ring in my head.

I do not remember what happened after that. They told me that a deputy was able to fight off the shark with an oar and that Stanley was aware of what happened. His only words were, oh my god. A doctor applied a rope to his thigh and they took him by train to Monmouth Memorial Hospital. He died there hours later, without me by his side. August 15th, 1916, 5.15 p.m. Dear diary, I'm in St. Peter's Hospital in a town called New Brunswick.

It has been a month since I wrote in my journal and it's because I was bitten by a shark. My brother feels bad about teasing me now and is very nice to me. We were swimming at the dock with our friends in Madowan and an old man came by in a boat yelling shark. My brother and the others got to the dock and got out but I was behind them. I got all the way to the ladder when I felt something bite me very hard. It was a shark and it pulled me back into the water. My brother and my friend jumped in and pulled me away from the shark and they put me on

the dock. I don't remember anything after that. I woke up in a hospital and my leg hurt very bad. I have had three surgeries and my doctor put new skin on my leg. He said I'm going to be okay. My mom cried when she saw me but I told her it didn't hurt. The nurse here is nice and gives me candy. She says I had bad dreams when I first got here about the shark.

But now I'm not scared anymore. The people that work here call me little Jonah because he was eaten by a whale. August 21, 1916, 6 p.m. Dear Diary, they let me walk today with crutches and it hurt some. The doctor said that it will not hurt forever. My mom told me today about the other people in Madawan who died because of the shark. Some boy named Lester still well and a man who tried to save Lester. I think his name was Stanley.

That makes me sad for their families. They say that I'm brave. Four people got killed by the shark and I think the least I could do is feel fortunate I'm okay. October 15, 1916, 10.13 p.m. It has been three months since the terror at Madawan Creek. Joseph Dunn fully recovered and was released home one month ago. My final thoughts on what happened in New Jersey this summer.

Whether sharks in general are more numerous in our waters this summer than during previous years may be seriously questioned, not withstanding the way in which local fishermen in the crowd of incoming steamers have vied and frightening the public. Shark stories with a certain foundation and truth will always be forthcoming when reporters have been ordered to get them. It may be recalled that the summer of 1915, although marked by no such horrifying events as we have known this year, was nevertheless popularly considered an exceptional shark season.

So now we must move forward and try to learn from the events of July 1916. A summer that I believe in the future may be remembered not only as a terrible tragedy, but as the birth of modernic theology. Wow. Holy cow that was chilling. Chuck you did so good with this. Jerry did great. Who?

Jerry sound designed the whole thing. Oh yeah, yeah. And then Robert and Jonathan and Katie and Rachel and the mystery boy. Everyone did a great job. And that was that. I hope you guys enjoyed it. That's a heck of a way to wrap it up. That was that.

That was the familiar sign off. Let's hear it for Chuck Bryant first everybody. Way to go Chuck. Writer, producer, director, I believe. Yeah, I guess it was a little directing going on. Triple threat. Yeah. Yeah.

Okay. Well, if you want to contact us, you can tweet to us at SYSK Podcast. You can join us on facebook.com to tell Chuck what a great job he did with this. And you can send us an email. Wrap it up. Spank it on the bottom. Get off to stuff podcast at discovery.com for more on this and thousands of other topics. Visit how stuff works.com.

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