Sleuths, it’s that time of year again.
I was on a plane just yesterday, feeling the cold air blow through the maw of the cabin, the same way it must have blown forty-one years ago on this day, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, when a gentleman calling himself Dan Cooper boarded the Northwest 305 flight to Portland.
We all know what happened next, and the massive man hunt after that, and over 1,000 suspects and persons of interest later, we still have no clue as to Mr. Cooper really was, and what made him make that epic leap in the annals of American crime. In some respects, I think we should be thankful we still don’t know who he is. So many of the mysteries of modern life nowadays are gone. We know so much thanks to our machines, so let us celebrate what we don’t know: the true identity of D.B., Danny Boy, Dan Cooper, Coops, whatever you want to call him. Who are you guy? What a chase it has been!
But let us celebrate the not-knowing for only a moment.
Okay, now the celebration is over. What we should really be thankful for in the Cooper case is all the great clues that have come up over the past few years, and thanks to the courage of FBI agents (ahem, Larry Carr) and the hard-work and sleuthing of folks like yourself. We need to consolidate our efforts and refocus them on breaking new parts of the case open to generate even more new leads.
Next year is a big Cooper year. The Second Annual Symposium is officially on for November 30th, at the Museum of Washington History in Tacoma, which is curating an incredible Cooper exhibit. Now is the time to map out our blueprints so we can gather and present more incredible findings.
More on all this later. Regretfully, I won’t be in Ariel this year—so send along pictures if you have them. Tonight I leave for Guadalajara. Have an assignment down there. But who knows who you can run into in Mexico? Hopefully Old Danny Boy is still down there, waiting all along.