"INTO THIN AIR: THE D.B. COOPER HIJACKING - PART 1"

0:03 Callarogu Shark Media. Good morning, I'm read Carter. Saturday, November twenty ninth, twenty twenty five, fifty four years ago. This week, the night before Thanksgiving, while Americans were carving turkeys and fighting traffic, a man in a cheap suit walked into Portland International Airport and pulled off the most audacious crime in aviation history. November twenty fourth, nineteen seventy one, two fifty pm, A man calling himself Dan Cooper board's Northwest Orient Airlines flight three oh five one way ticket to Seattle, paid twenty dollars cash, no ID required, different era. Thirty minutes into the flight, he hands a note to flight attendant Florence Schaffner. She assumes it's his phone number. Businessman slipped notes to stewardess as all the time back then.

0:56 She puts it in her pocket without reading it. Cooper leans over whispers, Miss, you'd better look at that note. I have a bomb. She opens it, handwritten in neat capital letters. Miss, I have a bomb in my briefcase and want you to sit by me. He opens his attache case just enough for her to see wires, red sticks, a battery reel or fake she has no idea, doesn't matter. She believes it's real. Cooper's demands two hundred thousand dollars in unmarked twenty dollars bills, four parachutes, two main chutes, two reserves, a fuel truck waiting in Seattle. The plane circles Puget Sound for nearly two hours while authorities scramble to meet his demands. Passengers have no idea their being hijacked.

1:42 Captain tells them there's a minor mechanical problem. Five twenty four pm, Flight three oh five lands at Seattle Tacoma International Airport. Cooper releases all thirty six passengers in exchange for the money and parachutes, keeps three pilots and one flight attendant, twenty two year old Tina Mucklow. Seven forty pm, the plane takes off again, destination Mexico City, but Cooper has no intention of going to Mexico. Somewhere between Seattle and Reno. A little after eight pm, the rear stairs of the Boeing seven twenty seven lower, Cooper straps the money to his chest, puts on a parachute, and jumps into a freezing rainstorm over the pitch black wilderness of southwestern Washington, wind chill below zero visibility, nune terrain, dense forest mountains, no roads for miles. He was never seen again.

2:41 No body, no parachute, no money, except for a few rotting bills found nine years later by an eight year old kid on a beach. The FBI searched for forty five years, investigated over a thousand suspects, spent millions of dollars. In twenty sixteen, they officially gave up. I'm Red Carter. This is Celebrity Trials today. dB Cooper, the man who hijacked a plane, stole two hundred thousand dollars, jumped into oblivion, and became America's most beloved criminal. Part one of two. Let Me Paint You the picture. November twenty fourth, nineteen seventy one, Portland, Oregon, overcast, light, rain, temperature in the mid forties. The day before Thanksgiving, around two thirty pm, A man approaches the Northwest Orient Airlines counter pays cash for a one way ticket to Seattle eighteen dollars and fifty two cents. Gives his name as Dan Cooper. No identification required. Airlines didn't check IDs In nineteen seventy one.

3:51 The man is white, mid forties, approximately six feet tall, one hundred seventy to one hundred eighty pounds, olive complexion, brown eye eyes, black hair, neatly combed back, with a slight wave, no discernible accent. He's wearing a dark suit. Witnesses would later describe it as brown or burgundy, with a white dressed shirt and a narrow black clip on tie from J. C. Penny, black loafers, dark raincoat, sunglasses. Even though it's cloudy, he carries an attache case and a brown paper bag. He looks like an accountant, a middle manager, a traveling salesman, the kind of man you'd never notice, the kind of man who could disappear into a crowd and never be found. Flight three oh five is a milk run Portland to Seattle thirty minute flight on a Boeing seven twenty seven to one hundred six crew members Captain William Scott, first Officer William Ratazac, flight Engineer Harold Anderson, and three flight attendants Senior Attendant Alice Hancock, Florence Schaffner, and Tina Mucklow. Thirty seven passengers board, including Cooper.

5:01 He takes seat eighteen c aisle seat last row of the passenger cabin, near the rear of the plane. The flight departs on schedule at two fifty pm. Once airborne, Cooper orders a bourbon and soda, lights a Raleigh cigarette. Seems calm, relaxed. Then he makes his move. He hands a folded note to Florence Schaffner, the twenty three year old flight attendant seated in the jump seat directly behind him. Shaffner assumes it's a phone number or hotel room invitation occupational hazard for attractive stewardesses in nineteen seventy one. She puts the note in her pocket without reading it. Cooper leans forward whispers, Miss, you'd better look at that note.

5:45 I have a bomb. Something in his voice makes her believe him. She unfolds the note, handwritten in neat capital letters with a felt tip pen. Miss, I have a bomb in my briefcase and want you to sit by me. Shaffner sits down next to him. Cooper opens his out of shaycase just wide enough for her to see what's inside. A mass of red cylinders connected by wires to a large battery. Looks like dynamite, looks like a bomb. Cooper is calm, business like, not threatening, almost polite. He dictates his demands to Shaffner, who writes them on an envelope two hundred thousand dollars in twenty dollars bills, four parachutes, two main chutes, two reserves, a fuel truck standing by in Seattle. He's very specific about the parachutes, two of each type. Why. The FBI later speculated Cooper wanted them to think he planned to take a hostage with him.

6:42 When he jumped that way, they wouldn't give him sabotage chutes, smart, calculating this man had thought it through. Shaffner takes the demands to the cockpit. Captain Scott immediately contacts Seattle Tacoma air traffic Control. The FBI is notified. Northwest Orient President Donald Nyrop authorizes full cooperation. The airline has a two hundred fifty thousand dollars insurance policy against air piracy. He orders the crew to give Cooper whatever he wants. The plane enters a holding pattern over Puget Sound, circling for nearly two hours while authorities scramble. Meanwhile, twenty two year old Tina Mucklow replaces Schafner in the seat next to Cooper.

7:24 She would spend the next several hours as his primary contact. The last person to see dB Cooper alive. Mucklow later described him as not nervous. He seemed almost bored, made small talk, offered her a cigarette, asked where she was from. When she asked why he was hijacking the plane, he said vaguely, it's not because I have a grudge against your airline. I just have a grudge. At one point, Cooper offered to tip the flight attendants. They declined company policy. He paid for his drinks like a normal passenger. He seemed rather nice. Mucklow would later say he was never cruel or nasty. He was thoughtful and calm All the time.

8:09 On the ground, the FBI was moving fast. They gathered ten tho twenty dollars bills from Seattle area banks, total weight approximately twenty one pounds. Every single bill was photographed to record its serial number, a process that took hours. The parachutes came from a local skydiving school and a private pilot. Two main chutes, two reserves as requested. Five twenty four PM. Flight three oh five finally lands at Seattle Tacoma International Airport. Cooper orders the plane to taxi to a remote, well lit area, window shades down, cabin lights dimmed, no vehicles approaching the aircraft. The person delivering the money and parachutes must come alone. A Northwest Orient employee drives out to the plane. Tina Mucklow meets him at the rear stairs. She carries the money in parachutes back to Cooper makes three trips. At one point, she jokingly asks Cooper if she can have some of the money.

9:07 He immediately hands her a packet of bills. She laughs and hands it back. Company policy can't accept tips. Cooper inspects the money, complains it was delivered in a cloth bag instead of a knapsack. Now he has to improvise. Using a pocket knife, he cuts the shroud lines from one of the reserve parachutes and uses them to tie the money bag shut. The thirty six passengers are released. Most have no idea what just happened. The captain told them there was a mechanical problem. They walked off the plane, annoyed about the delay, completely unaware they just survived a hijacking. Flight Attendants Alice Hancock and Florence Schaffner are released too.

9:47 Only Tina Mucklow remains with Cooper and the three man cockpit crew. An FAA official requests a face to face meeting with Cooper aboard the plane. Cooper refuses, no negotiations, no delays. He wants to leave. Seven forty pm. The Boeing seven twenty seven takes off from Seattle, refueled and heading south. Cooper has given the crew very specific instructions. Fly toward Mexico City, maintain altitude below ten thousand feet, keep the cabin unpressurized, landing gear down, wing flaps at fifteen degrees, fly as slow as possible, approximately one hundred fifty to two hundred knots. These weren't random demands. Cooper knew exactly what he was asking for. Low altitude meant he could breathe without oxygen. Slow speed and landing gear down meant he could survive the jump. Unpressurized cabin meant he could open the rear door. He knew the Boeing seven twenty seven knew it had a unique feature, rear air stairs that could be lowered during flight. No other commercial aircar had this capability. Once airborne, Cooper sends mucklow to the cockpit. He wants to be alone in the cabin.

11:08 Go join the rest of the crew. He tells her, I'll be fine. She never sees him again. Eight PM. A warning light illuminates in the cockpit. The aft airstairs have been activated. Eight thirteen PM, the aircraft suddenly pitches nose down, requiring the crew to retrim the controls. Something heavy just left the plane. The crew knows what happened. dB Cooper jumped. Ten fifteen pm, the Boeing seven twenty seven lands in Reno, Nevada. FBI agents swarmed the aircraft. Cooper is gone, the money is gone. Two parachutes are gone, one main chute and one reserve left behind his clip on tie, his mother of Pearl tie clip, two of the parachutes, and eight Raleigh cigarette butts. The most brazen hijacking in American history had just succeeded. The FBI launched what they called nor Jack Northwest Hijacking. It would become one of the longest and most expensive investigations in Bureau history.

12:12 Based on the aircraft's flight path and the time the rear stairs activated, investigators calculated a drop zone somewhere between Seattle and Reno, most likely over the Lewis River area in southwestern Washington. Dense wilderness, mountains, old growth forest, no roads, no trails, no civilization for miles. The weather that night was terrible, freezing rain, high winds, temperature at ten thousand feet approximately seven degrees fahrenheit, wind chill well below zero, visibility near zero. Cooper jumped wearing a business suit, a raincoat and loafers, no gloves, no helmet, no survival gear.

12:52 The FBI believed he was probably dead. Thanksgiving Day, nineteen seventy one, the search began. Helicopters, ground crews, army personnel, National Guard, hundreds of volunteers. They combed the suspected drop zone for weeks. Found nothing. No body, no parachute, no money, no clothing, nothing. Cooper had vanished into thin air. The investigation expanded. FBI agents interviewed every passenger on flight three five, studied every photograph of the money, traced every lead. Over the next five years, they considered more than eight hundred suspects, eliminated nearly all of them. The evidence they had was frustratingly thin. The clip on tie black JC Penny brand Cooper removed it before jumping, probably to prevent it from catching on something. Decades later, forensic analysis would find titanium particles and rare metal compounds embedded in the fabric materials used in aerospace manufacturing or certain chemical plants. This suggested Cooper might have worked in the aviation industry, or might not.

13:59 The tie could have been purchased second hand. The cigarette butts Rally filter tips, an off brand not widely popular. Cooper smoked with his left hand, possibly left handed fingerprints. The FBI lifted sixty six latent prints from the plane. None matched any known criminal or suspect. The composite sketches. FBI artists created two drawings based on witness descriptions. The first sketch, completed days after the hijacking, was widely mocked as inaccurate. Witnesses said it looked like Bing Crosby. A second sketch, completed in late nineteen seventy two, with more input from passenger Bill Mitchell, was considered more accurate, But after fifty four years, eyewitness memory is unreliable and that was it. No DNA technology in nineteen seventy one, no security cameras at the airport, no requirement for ID when purchasing airline tickets. Cooper had been meticulous about leaving no trace.

15:11 Then in nineteen eighty a break February tenth, nineteen eighty Tina Bar, Washington, along the banks of the Columbia River, about twenty miles west of Cooper's suspected drop zone. An eight year old boy named Brian Ingram was raking sand to build a campfire with his family when his shovel hit something. Three rotting packets of twenty dollars bills rubber banded together five thousand, eight hundred dollars total. The serial numbers matched the ransom money. The FBI descended on the site, excavated the entire beach, brought in metal detectors, back hose divers. Found nothing else. No parachute, no bones, no other bills. The money raised more questions than it answered. How did it get there? Tina Bar was nowhere near the suspected drop zone. Did Cooper bury it? Did it wash down stream?

16:03 Was it planted? The bills were badly deteriorated, some were the size of business cards, Some were black and unreadable, but the serial numbers were clear enough to confirm this was Cooper's money, Brian Ingram became briefly famous. After legal battles, he was allowed to keep about half the recovered bills. He later sold some at auction for around thirty seven thousand dollars, but the rest of the money one hundred ninety four thousand, two hundred dollars has never been found. Not a single bill from Cooper's ransom has ever turned up in circulation. Think about that two hundred thousand dollars in twenties. If Cooper survived and spent the money, even gradually, some of it would have surfaced. Bank tellers were given lists of serial numbers. Nothing. Either Cooper died with the money still strapped to his chest, or he buried it and never dug it up, or he was smart enough to launder it in ways that left no trace. The investigation continued for decades. Every few years, someone would come forward claiming to know Cooper's identity, deathbed confessions, family members with suspicions, amateur sleuths with theories. The FBI investigated them all.

17:20 In two thousand and seven, they finally extracted a partial DNA profile from the clip on tie Cooper left behind, But DNA is only useful if you have something to compare it to. None of the suspects matched. July twenty sixteen, forty five years after the hijacking, the FBI officially suspended the investigation, announced they were redirecting resources to other cases. Said they'd reopen the file if someone brought them physical evidence the parachute, more money, or DNA matching the tie. No one ever did. The dB Cooper case remains the only unsolved airline hijacking in American history. Here's what I can't stop thinking about. We're supposed to hate criminals. That's how this works. I spend every day covering murderers, rapists, con artists, people who destroy lives, and we hate them as we should. But D B. Cooper America loves this guy.

18:17 There are dB Cooper bars in the Pacific Northwest. D B. Cooper Day celebrations every November in Ariel, Washington, the little town near where he might have landed. People dress up in suits and clip on ties. They hold lookalike contests, they jump out of planes. Songs have been written about him, movies made, documentaries, Netflix, HBO true crime podcasts like this one. Fifty four years later, and we're still obsessed. Otto Larson, a University of Washington sociologist, studied the phenomenon. He described the public's admiration this way. It was an awesome feat in the battle of man against the machine, one man overcoming technology, the corporation, the establishment, the system. Thus, the hijacker comes off as a kind of curious robin hood taking from the rich, or at least the big and complex robin hood. That's the comparison. Cooper didn't hurt anyone, didn't threaten the passengers, paid for his drinks, was polite to the flight attendants. Then he took two hundred grand from a faceless airline corporation and disappeared forever in nineteen seventy one. That meant something. Vietnam was dragging on, Nixon was in the White House, trust in institutions was collapsing, and here comes this guy in a cheap suit who beat the system and got away clean. He became a folk hero, the everyman who stuck it to the man.

19:45 Ralph Himmelsbach, the FBI agent who led the investigation until his retirement in nineteen eighty, hated the romanticization, called Cooper a sleazy, rotten criminal, said He probably died cold and alone in the wilderness, money still strapped to his chest, but the public didn't care. Cooper was the anti establishment hero America didn't know it needed. And here's the dark irony. Cooper's crime changed everything. Within a year, metal detectors were installed at airports, baggage inspection became mandatory. Passengers who paid cash for same day tickets were flagged for additional screening. Boeing redesigned the seven twenty seven added a device called the Cooper Vane that prevents the rear stairs from being lowered during flight. Every seven twenty seven flying today has one.

20:35 He didn't just steal two hundred thousand dollars. He stole our innocence about air travel. But we still celebrate him anyway because he got away with it, because we love a mystery. Because part of us, the anarchist part, the anti authority part, wants to believe you can beat the system if you're smart enough make it make sense. That's part one of our D. B. Cooper Special. November twenty fourth, nineteen seventy one, Thanksgiving Eve, a man in a cheap suit hijacked a plane demanded two hundred thousand dollars and four parachutes, jumped into a freezing rainstorm over the Pacific Northwest and was never seen again. The FBI searched for forty five years, found nothing but five eight hundred dollars in rotting bills on a riverbank. Tomorrow, Part two. The suspects Richard McCoy, who pulled an almost identical hijacking five months later, Kenneth Christiansen, the Northwest Orient flight attendant who bought a house with cash after the hijacking, Robert Rackstraw, the con man who denied it until his dying day, And the question that haunts us. Did D. B. Cooper survive?

21:46 The FBI says probably not. The evidence suggests he died in the jump. Wrong clothing, wrong weather, wrong parachute for a controlled descent. But no body, no parachute, no proof. Somewhere in the forests of southwestern Washington. The answer is waiting. May be buried with his bones, may be scattered with his money, maybe laughing at us from beyond the grave. I'm read Carter. See you tomorrow for part two. This is celebrity Trials