What’s always been most interesting to me about Cossey is that he was an optimist. During a time when many in the Bureau were convinced that Cooper never survived the jump, Cossey met with with agents and told them the jump wasn’t as perilous as they thought. Cossey’s opinion was that Cooper could have survived the jump, even with minimal parachuting experience.

Now, over the weekend, it appears that Cossey was murdered in the garage of his home in Woodinville, Washington. The details from the police are still sketchy, but reports suggest he was hit in the head, perhaps with a blunt instrument. He was 74.

We met once. I forget the name of the casino, but Cossey asked me to meet him there early in the morning for a cup of coffee. A casino was an odd place to meet for a morning interview, I thought then.

We spoke about the parachutes he packed. He was upset the FBI never returned them. Cossey was amenable enough, but seemed annoyed that so many reporters over the years kept calling him to ask about the chutes.

It’s early on in the investigation, so perhaps we’ll know more details in the coming days or weeks. I don’t see any connection to the Cooper case—just a coincidence that Cossey was involved in such a noteworthy moment in Pacific Northwest history, just another strange development in Cooperland.

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.

Very excited to report that plans have been made for the next D.B. Cooper Symposium, and the official date for our next national gathering will be November 30, 2013, and the location will be the Washington State Historical Museum in Tacoma, Washington.

What’s noteworthy here is the folks in Tacoma at the Washington Museum have been planning an entire exhibit on the Cooper skyjacking and case, so it’s natural fit to have the Symposium there.

A word on the exhibit: it should be something. The curators at the Museum are going all out for the show, and have even imported parts of a 727 plane to display. Check out the forklift in action in this photo.

The bad news of course is that the next Symposium is going to happen next year, which would be a bummer if there were no Cooper anniversary events planned. But there are plenty.

In Portland, Doug Kenck-Crispin, the ribald historian you all no doubt will remember for his Cooper raps and hilarious presentation, is hosting a pre-anniversary D.B. Cooper movie night on Saturday, November 17th, at The Hollywood Theater in Portland. The film: The Pursuit of D.B. Cooper, starring Robert Duvall and Trent Williams. Crispin will place the film in its proper historic context, and also on hand will be Marla Cooper, to discuss her uncle-suspect Lynn Doyle Cooper, who the FBI is still apparently trying to connect to the hijacking via fingerprint samples and forensic evidence.

The tireless Kenck-Crispin is also sponsoring a D.B. Cooper bus tour that leaves from Portland and will trek down into the southern part of the state to celebrate the annual Cooper Days party in Ariel. Get on that bus before seats fill up, and find more at orhistory.com

More Cooper news from me soon and (almost) happy Cooper anniversary.

In honor of next week’s paperback release, I want to give away a few hardback books, the big heavy ones, shipping included. I have a secret stash. I want you to have one.

Here’s how to get one. Write a poem. Cooper related. Could be haiku. Could be ryhming verse. Could be short or long. Could be a video of you singing our own lyrics and strumming your guitar. Send it my way [dbcoopersjump at gmail] with mailing address. That’s it. I’ll send you a book.

There’s a rich history of Cooper related poetry, as evidenced by the popular and impressive submissions for last year’s Symposium. You can find them in the archives. Happy wordsmithing.

What a year it’s been. New suspects. New leads. A poetry contest. We had our first ever Symposium, a national collaboration of retired law enforcement, private eyes, amateur sleuths, paleontologists, parachutists, survival experts, aeronautical engineers and a hundred and fifty or so more, either giving presentations or listening to information about the case.

And now a paperback release.

Like hardback books, paperback books are good to have around. They aren’t as helpful to prop up computer screens or level out wobbly tables. But they are cheaper to buy. You can also stuff them into pockets, bags and things. You can take them with you on trips. You can give them away and trade them for books of your friends.

The actual on-sale date, I’ve been told, is September 4th, the Tuesday after Labor Day. To celebrate the paperback release, I have a few plans in the works, so stay tuned for more to come.

I’m in Spain now, writing from a town of many white walls, the most fragrant jasmine plants I’ve ever walked under, and the home to 376 people who have been partying non-stop for the last two days because it is their town feria or fair. Today’s attraction was a town-wide paella cook out and feast with paella pans the size of the small cars. On the calendar tonight: “mobile disco,” which I think means an entire discotheque on wheels.

Starts at 1:00 am. Will confirm (or deny) that hunch later on.

Hope you all are having an amazing summer and your Cooper hunting has been fruitful.

Hasta luego,
-Geoff

Bruce Smith is one of those gumshoes. Last night, this intrepid reporter from the Mountain News in Washington State sent around an e-mail informing of a new discovery he made.

“I was soon to learn that my heart had experienced a 95% blockage in the rear circumflex coronary artery,” he writes in this must-read account.

Good lord. Good news: he’s recovering and on the mend. Get better Bruce, we need you out there looking for Danny Boy.

One detail that surfaced in the FBI’s case files on Mr. D.B. Cooper (ocassionally referred to as ‘Danny Boy’ among the hardest of core followers) is this issue of the blue Skychef matchbook.

During her debriefing with FBI agents, Northwest stewardess Tina Mucklow noted that she had helped Cooper light some of the eight Raleigh filter tipped cigarette butts with his own matches, which she plucked from his matchbook.

The color of the book was blue, she told FBI agents.
And the name on it?

“Skychef,” she said.

Some devout sleuths have dug up some pearls on the matchbook—including some Skychef matchbooks themselves. Skychef, it shows, was a restaurant in airports. (See last post.)

Now comes conformation that the Skychef restaurant was actually located in the Portland Airport, and there in the fall of 1971. Conformation comes in the form of this gem of a newspaper clip [click "READ THE FILES" below], unearthed by a Cooper sleuth calling himself Smokin99. (Thanks again, Smokin99.)

The ad clearly shows that Skychef was not only open for business during the week of the hijacking but soliciting customers. (“Golden Fried Chicken…gravy…for $3.95.” Mmmm.)

What’s telling about this darling of a clue though is the restaurant’s hours of operation. Skychef clearly states that dinner is served “from 5:00 pm” and on Monday, Tuesday, Saturday and Sunday. Now, we know Danny Boy got on the plane before 3:00 pm, and on November 24th, 1971, a Wednesday, presumably when the Skychef restaurant was not open.

Or at least not open for dinner.

Huh. So, was Skychef at Portland International open for other meals in November, 1971? Or did Danny Boy get his matchbooks from another location? Or on another day?

Cooper sleuths?