All language subtitles for Mysteries of the Abandoned S12E02 The Osage Oil Murders 1080p DISC WEB-DL AAC2 0 H 264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

An Oklahoma town so rich,
it inspired a Hollywood movie.

We have benefited
from our own resources.

We've been like
Kuwaitis or Qataris,

but somehow,
it all went out the door.

In Cambodia,
a place of learning

that was turned into
a chamber of horrors.

For the survivors,

it's really important
to continue
to tell their stories.

And this secret
Latvian facility

designed with
malicious intent.

Decaying relics...

Ruins of lost worlds...

Sites haunted by the past.

Their secrets waiting
to be revealed.

In the sleepy town of
Pawhuska, Oklahoma,

is the relic of a time
when greed and treachery
ravaged a community.

There must be at most
a few thousand people
living here.

But the buildings
are pretty grand.

Why would all of this be here
in such a small town?

A distinctive ruin
at its center holds the key.

Walking in, you find yourself

in a big entrance room
or lobby.

Intricate mosaics
cover the floors,

and ornate plaster work
decorates the walls
and ceilings.

Other spaces look like
they might have
been apartments.

Some are stripped bare,

while others still have
desks or bed frames inside.

This must have been
some kind of hotel
or a boarding house maybe.

Its opulence has now faded.

But in its day, this was
one of the most prestigious
buildings in the area.

There was clearly
a lot of money

being made and spent
around town.

But where did it all
come from?

This building is linked to
one of the biggest booms
in economic history.

But everything you see
was most likely
paid for with stolen money.

It's because of what
this land had to offer.

Soon, it would all be
soaked in blood.

I always tell people
there's ghosts here.

And when I say that,
it's the ghost of our past,
our history.

Scott Trotter has
a passion for old buildings.

Since 2021,
he's been working hard
to preserve this site.

This was
where everybody came,

all the wealthy,
famous, infamous.

They stayed here.

This was the most
luxurious hotel anywhere
in the area.

There was a good reason
this was the place to be.

In the early 20th century,
Pawhuska was one of the
wealthiest towns in America.

This was becoming this,
like this new little New York

here on the prairie,
every shop you can imagine.

Every car that they were
making at that time was
being sold on these streets.

What drew people
here was the discovery
of a valuable commodity,

oil.

It led into the, you know,
the free flow of money

and that black gold
flowing through
the streets here in the 1920s.

News of this boom quickly
spread around the country,

and outsiders flocked here,
looking to get
a piece of the action.

We had all these oil moguls
and all these bigwigs.

This is the place
they came to stay.

This is the Duncan Hotel.

It was named after
and financed by

by two entrepreneurial
brothers
lured to Pawhuska

by the financial opportunities
it offered.

The hotel
first opened in 1910.

Everybody was
coming to this town
to start businesses

and put in stores,
and that's why
they spared no expense

to build this place
because they knew
they were going to fill it.

In the mid-1920s,
business was booming
so much in Pawhuska

that the Duncan brothers
decided to build an expansion
onto their hotel.

These are
some of the most expensive
pieces of porcelain

top of its line
and at that time.

This was the best of the best.

But everything at the Duncan
may have been built on a lie.

One that has its origins

when the rightful owners
of this area
first acquired the territory.

Talee Redcorn is
a member of the Osage Nation.

They signed their
first treaty with
the United States in 1808.

And then in the 1870s,
we moved from Kansas,

had a treaty,

and moved into Oklahoma.

Current Osage Reservation.

Part of the reason this land
was available is because
white settlers saw this region

as being less desirable
than other parts of the state.

That's because only
around two percent of the land

was suitable
for growing crops.

Little did they know,

there was a vast reservoir
of wealth
just beneath the ground.

Oil really impacted
the lives of the Osage,

and it brought a lot of money.

Some estimates put it
around $240 million.

Which is like billions
of dollars in today's money.

We were per capita,
the richest folks
on this planet at that time.

Suddenly, you've got
luxury car dealerships,

you know, high end boutiques.

Fancy hotels,
like the Duncan popping up.

The entire town
was transformed.

But for the Osage,

the discovery of oil was both
a blessing and a curse.

When the scale of wealth
became clear,
Congress passes a law.

They say that basically
anyone who is
half Osage or more

has to have a court appointed
guardian to look after them.

The guardians were chosen

from local white
businessmen and lawyers

who were given almost
complete control
of their Osage ward's money.

You've got a somebody
that's your guardian
and you're young

and they're not looking out
for your best interests.

Bad things are gonna happen.

It's believed
that these guardians
swindled their clients

out of millions.

That money is ours.

But it's all
out of our control
and out of our people.

We like to say
we built Ponca City,

Bartlesville and Tulsa on
Osage oil.

It's also said that
a lot of the buildings
in Pawhuska

were actually built
with stolen Osage money,

and it seems the Duncan Hotel
was no exception.

If you follow the money,
you'll get the answers
you're looking for.

2
In Oklahoma,
are the remains

of a once opulent hotel
with suspicious origins.

It's believed
that in the early 1900s,

this building was illicitly
constructed using funds

that belonged to
the Osage Nation.

Descendants of Wakon Iron,
a local tribesman,

attest that his oil wealth

was funneled by his
government appointed guardian

into this structure
without his knowledge.

Once construction
was complete,

he was told that the venture
he had invested in
had gone bust

and all the money
was gone.

So all the glamour
and high end amenities

of the Duncan
are perhaps the product

of the widespread theft
of Osage wealth.

I've heard story after story

where the families
were destroyed.

It was just a movement
of resources

away from the Osage and
into someone else's hands.

This tragic story
would be repeated
across the Osage Nation.

So if you've seen
the Martin Scorsese movie,

Killers of the Flower Moon,

it's showing
the horrifying lengths
people would go to

to get their hands
on all of that money.

While the film shows the two
main characters being caught

and brought to justice,

this wasn't the case
of everyone suspected
of being involved.

This brutal period
became known
as the Reign of Terror.

It's estimated
that hundreds were killed

and millions of dollars
were stolen.

My great grandfather,
his name was Raymond Redcorn.

Possibly he was murdered.

It's really impacted
my family.

The wealth that maybe
other Osages experienced,

we didn't really have
because of this tragedy.

It would take many years
for the sheer scale

of the Osage betrayal
to be widely acknowledged.

For much of that time,
the Duncan
continued to operate,

its fortunes still tied
to the oil industry.

But in December 1981,
a fire broke out.

The inferno sealed the fate
of the Duncan Hotel.

In 2011,
after a 10-year legal battle,

the federal government
paid out $380 million
to the Osage.

The truth is, they are
likely owed much more.

Regardless, Talee
is focused on the future.

Bad things happen, yes,

but the better thing to do
is to move forward.

We're very appreciative
to what God's given us,

so, that's what's
important to me,

especially when I get older.

In Cambodia's
capital is a seemingly
ordinary structure

that served as the site
of a betrayal so shocking,

it still haunts the country.

In the middle of a busy block

are a collection
of rectangular
three story buildings.

It's a pretty
nondescript structure,

a very institutional
appearance.

It doesn't look fancy.

There are some grassy areas,
perhaps for recreation,

which suggests that the site
may have had a civic purpose.

But what exactly was it for?

Off each of
the breezy corridors

are a number of
different sized empty rooms.

The walls are bare
and the floor is tiled.

If you I imagine that there
were maybe desks in here.

Perhaps this was a classroom.

But if this were
a place of learning,

there are certain features
harder to explain.

One of the buildings
is covered with barbed wire

from top to bottom,

and the interior is lined

with what can only
be described as cells.

And there are
hundreds of them.

Inside these walls,
some of the greatest crimes

against humanity
of the 20th century

were perpetrated by a regime
which basically pledged

to wipe out all opposition.

I visited this place
for the first time in 2015,

when I was
a third year college student.

The experience left me
feeling sorrowful
and full of questions.

The search for answers
inspired Voeun Vandet

to return to this complex
as a custodian of its history.

I was curious as to how
a place that was

meant to impart knowledge
and education

turned into a site
which inflicted

great pain on
the Cambodian people.

The structure
that stands here today

was originally built in 1962.

It was the Prey Ponhea Yat
High School

and the Tuol Sleng
Primary School.

So, these were classrooms.

Yet, nationalized
education was a new concept
for the nation,

established once
Cambodia gained freedom

from French colonial rule
in 1953.

Previously, only around
50,000 Cambodians

received formal
elementary schooling.

Before long,
it was around a million.

For over a decade,

this was simply a place
where children came to
learn, play and be safe.

But soon,
even education itself

was considered a crime
and punishable by death.

But the transformation
didn't happen overnight.

By the early 1950s,
as the Cold War escalated,

China and North Vietnam
fell to communist regimes.

The ideology also began
to take root in Cambodia.

In the early 1960s,
a small group of Cambodians

led by Saloth Sar,
later known as Pol Pot,

formed the Communist Party
of Kampuchea,

later known as
the Khmer Rouge.

They wanted a radical
communist revolution

that would erase
all Western influences

and set up a solely
agrarian society.

At first, they were
small in number

and posed very little threat.

But when a right wing
pro US military coup

toppled the head of state,
Prince Norodom Sihanouk
in 1970,

the Khmer Rouge began to
attract increasing support.

Civil war erupted,
and over the next five years,

Pol Pot's forces
gradually took greater control
of the countryside.

He now had the numbers
to launch

an all-out assault
on Cambodia's capital.

On April 17th 1975,
Khmer Rouge soldiers

entered Phnom Penh,

and many people came
to celebrate their victory.

It seemed that after
five years of fighting,
the war was finally over.

In reality, something
far worse was to come.

After only a few hours,

Khmer Rouge troops started
firing into the air.

This was the beginning
of the forced evacuation
of Phnom Penh.

About three or four million
lived in the cities.

This big urban population
in cities like Phnom Penh

was marched into
the countryside
and converted into peasants.

In the space of 24 hours,

they'd leave
everything behind.

Anyone who was
thought to pose a threat
to this revolution

was rounded up
in these specially designed
detention centers.

There were 189 of these sites
across the country.

This was the most notorious.

Its name
was Security Prison 21.

On arrival, after being
measured and photographed,

the prisoners were stripped
and shackled to the floor

in a cell barely big enough
to sit down in.

They were made to sit.

There was a metal stick
put across their legs

and they were locked
into the chain like this.

It was commonplace
for the prisoners

to be interrogated and
tortured three times a day.

They were forced
to give detailed
biographies of their lives.

Often, this information
was then used to round up
other people.

The brutality
of the Khmer Rouge
is absolutely shocking.

If you were a lawyer,
doctor or teacher,

that was enough to get you
arrested and killed.

But as time went on,

the Khmer Rouge
became increasingly paranoid

and began to turn
on its own members,
even children.

When I was arrested
and sent to this place,
I was nine years old.

2
In Cambodia,
is a former school that was
turned into a death camp

under the Khmer Rouge regime.

Anyone deemed a threat
to the revolution

was rounded up
and incarcerated,

including their own comrades.

Norng Chan Phal
was nine years old
in December 1978,

when the Khmer Rouge
summoned his father,

a regime supporter
to the capital.

Eight days later,
they came to our family

and informed us that
we would be reunited with
him in Phnom Penh.

We thought our father
would come to get us,

but we didn't see
our father at all.

We didn't know we were
being sent to jail.

We were so scared and shocked.

On arrival,
Chan Phal's mother

was interrogated
in front of her children.

When my mother gave
a wrong answer a few times,

she would be tortured.

I ran and hugged her
when I saw the situation.

At that time,

they used a gun to hit her
when she refused to answer

and I tried to cover her,
but I was hit in my back.

The next day,
the siblings were moved

to a different part
of the compound.

My mother hugged me.

She was in tears
and very upset.

But she didn't explain
what was happening.

The last time I saw her,

she was standing
holding a window frame
and looking at us.

I looked at her a few times
and she disappeared
from the window.

At the time,
Chan Phal and his brother

were not aware that
their mother was likely killed
that same day.

Neither did they know that
outside the prison walls,

Pol Pot's grip on power
was weakening.

Ultimately, it wasn't
the Khmer Rouge's violence

against their own people
that toppled the regime.

It was the fact
they started a war
against their neighbors,

Vietnam, Thailand, and Laos.

The goal was
to take back territory

that had once been
a part of the Khmer Empire
centuries ago.

In late December 1978,

Vietnam launched a full scale
invasion of Cambodia,

sending tanks and thousands
of troops across the border.

Khmer Rouge fighters
made a chaotic retreat.

By early January 1979,

Vietnamese forces closed in
on Phnom Penh.

They found a city
that was practically deserted.

And they discovered
this S-21 prison complex.

And it said that the way
they discovered is,
they smelled rotting bodies.

At least 18,063 people
were sent here,
but only 12 survived.

Eight adults
and four children.

Norng Chan Phal
and his brother
were two of those children.

They only lived
because they hid

when the Khmer troops
abandoned the prison.

I came outside and saw
two Vietnamese soldiers

the person holding the AK gun
was pointing it at me

and asking,
"Are you Pol Pot's child?"

I told him that I wasn't
Pol Pot's child.

We were then taken
to the hospital

to recover
from our health issues.

And afterwards,
we were placed
in an orphanage.

By the time
Pol Pot is deposed,

it's estimated that he's
basically murdered about

1.5 to 3 million
of his people.

At the very least, a quarter
of his own population.

The newly installed moderate
communist government

chose to leave S-21
and to open it
as a museum of genocide.

Pol Pot died before
he could be brought
to answer for his crimes.

S-21 exists
as a prescient reminder

of the human capacity to
inflict unspeakable cruelty.

For the lucky few
that did survive,

telling their story has become
a way of fighting back.

I was left speechless
when I first visited
Tuol Sleng.

It brought back
all the memories

and I couldn't hold back
my tears.

However, as I started working
closely with this place,

I shared my story
with visitors
and I began to feel better.

Tuol Sleng is no longer
a prison to me.

In western Latvia
are the remnants
of a forbidden site

that for many years
officially never existed.

We're about
two miles from the coast
in an area of dense forest.

But then you see
the very distinct
type of housing

that we saw
after World War II.

It's not elegant,
but it got the job done.

They seem out of place.

Why would these
apartment blocks

be thrown up
in the middle of nowhere?

Inside, they've been gutted.

But there's a few kind of
clues here and there
as to their former life.

A little bit of wallpaper,
a family living room,
a kitchen.

While little remains
to help piece together

a picture of who was here,

the question of
why they were here
is soon answered.

Beyond the buildings
rising above the trees,

you see these
enormous antennas.

These things
look like something

you might use to search
for signals from alien life.

But what are they doing here
in the middle of Latvia?

When the world
stood on the precipice
of global conflict,

this site held the key
to humanity's survival

and destruction.

The stakes in the Cold War
are so high.

If there is a way
to defend yourselves
with technology, you use it.

2
What for two decades,

most Latvians didn't know
this covert site existed

because it never appeared
on any maps.

In 2013, Arnis Berzins

came to work as
a technical specialist
at this remote facility.

The motive for the site's
construction was simple.

To gain the upper hand
in the Cold War
by any means necessary.

As the conflict intensified,

the methods became
increasingly clandestine.

Instead of
direct confrontation
with kinetic weapons,

the confrontation
in the Cold War
is at a remove.

It's technology
versus technology.

And the Soviets especially,
were obsessed

with projecting an image
of competence and success.

A pivotal moment
in the race

for technological superiority
came in 1957,

when the battlefield shifted
to a new frontier.

The Soviets had sent up
the first manmade satellite,

a Sputnik,
which orbited the earth,

sending down
a beeping radio signal.

And this was a huge deal
because for the first time,

messages could be
sent and received
between spacecraft and Earth.

In the US, people were
completely freaked out
by this.

They had no idea
the Soviets were so advanced.

Less than
a year later, in 1958,

NASA was created to help
combat the threat.

The space race was on
and our world would
never be the same again.

Within the 10 years
after Sputnik,

more than 800 satellites
had been launched
by both sides.

They become
part of our way of life,

and they become part
of our way of war.

Whoever could
communicate the fastest

would have a huge advantage
in any conflict,

especially
in this nuclear age,

when a devastating war
might unfold in
just a few minutes.

But with the right equipment,

these new communication lines
could be vulnerable
to interception.

That's exactly
where this place came in.

The US Military had bases
all over Western Europe,

and this facility
was right on their doorstep.

This is the secret Soviet town

of Irbene
codenamed Little Star.

In the late 1960s,
its first radio telescope
began operating.

Its mission had one goal.

To build, operate
and keep all of this running,

it required a vast amount
of manpower.

You need scientists
to actually capture
the results

of your spying.

You need engineers
to repair it.

You've got to build a place
for them to live.

Over the next decade,

Moscow's spy masters ordered
two more antennae
to be installed,

each one bigger than the last,

enabling the Soviets to
eavesdrop on one of America's
most iconic moments.

Ten, nine...

Ignition sequence starts.

One small step for man.

One giant leap for mankind.

But the true
purpose of this complex
was far more sinister.

It was intended to give
the Soviets an edge

over America
if nuclear war erupted.

In the late 1970s,
it looked like
that moment had come

when a US ally in Europe
identified what they thought

was a deployed
Russian missile.

This news shocked the Soviets

because they knew
they hadn't launched
any weapons.

It said
that they picked up

some sort of panicked messages
from Sweden

that said that
the Swedish technicians

had picked up a sign
of a Soviet nuclear attack.

If news of the alleged attack
reached the US,

the Soviets knew the outcome

was mutually
assured destruction.

All the radio operators
at Irbene could do

was inform their superiors
and wait.

They were listening in
with bated breath

until the Swedish radio
signals reported

that it was not anything
to worry about,

but actually, just like
a large flock of birds.

This anecdote
sounds kind of funny,

but it shows
it was entirely possible

for a devastating nuclear war
to begin just on
a mistake like that.

For the next 10 years,

workers at Irbene
continued to listen in
on America and its allies.

Yet, it appeared
the secret base

wasn't as secret
as the Soviets thought.

In the 1980s,
listeners at the station
recall getting a message

from the United States
that said, "Dear Soviet spies,

Happy New Year's."

As it turned out,

this was the very least
of the communist regime's
problems.

By the late 1980s,
the whole Soviet system
was starting to crumble.

They were
bankrupting themselves
with projects like this.

2
In Latvia is the ruin
of a former Soviet base.

It operated in secret
until the late 1980s,

when cracks
in the Iron Curtain
began to appear.

The first pieces to fall
are the Baltic republics

Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia,

they all declare independence
from the Soviet Union.

But the Russians
weren't really keen

on handing over
a working spy station
to a potential enemy.

A a potential American ally.

When
the Latvian officials arrived,

they were pretty horrified
to discover that
Russian security services

were destroying everything
they could.

The Latvian
scientists didn't give up.

The former Soviet technology

provided the perfect opportunity

for the newly
independent nation
to establish its own center

for space studies.

This place that was built
as part of a Cold War military

and espionage operation,

today, is engaged
in cooperative,
peaceful research

and communication
around the world.

In northern Italy,
50 miles from Venice,

lies an unlikely field
of dreams.

We're in an area
that's a patchwork

of long, straight fields,
little country houses.

It's very, very idyllic.

But then,
slap bang in the middle
of this very ordinary scene,

there's something
completely extraordinary.

There are these two giant,
rusting old airplanes,

and it just
doesn't make any sense

because there's nothing
nearby that should have
big airplanes right there,

so you just have to
ask the question,

"Why are they here?"

Inside the control tower,
the plot thickens.

There's what looks like
a professional oven.

Now, I've not been inside
many control towers,

but that doesn't
seem normal to me.

In an adjacent building,
things get even stranger.

It appears
to be some sort
of Renaissance villa

and everywhere you look,
there's some
pretty iconic artwork.

It is so bizarre
to have these two
vastly different things,

planes and Renaissance art,
all in one compound.

Everything seen
here was the brainchild

of an entrepreneur
with a wild vision.

But who failed to consider
the consequences
of his ambitions.

Almost as soon as
the doors opened,
it was forced into a tailspin.

Luigi Stecca is
the man responsible
for this surreal complex.

I created this myself
in every little detail.

My life is in this place.

The inspiration came to him
while working

at a nursing home
in the early 1990s.

The elderly people
used to say to me, "Luigi,

what I wouldn't give
to go on a plane."

They would also talk to him
about how they always dreamed

of going to Florence and Rome,

seeing the great
Renaissance Masters' work.

So, Luigi thinks to himself,

maybe I can create a place
to bring these
two things together.

And if I can make
some money off the back of it,
too, then why not?

In 1998,
Luigi decided to turn
his dream into a reality.

This is the Michelangelo
Da Vinci restaurant,

a curious passion project

that combines
the love of air travel
with food and art.

The restaurant was a hit
from the beginning,

but very quickly,
local bureaucrats decided
they needed their piece.

2
In Villarmarzana, Italy,
is a bizarre flight of fancy.

The creator, Luigi Stecca,
pulled out all of the stops
to bring his dream to life.

The cost alone of buying
and transporting the planes

was in the region of $100,000.

I searched
until I found the planes.

I found one in Cingoli
in the Marche
and one in Porto Recanati.

He then needed
to arrange a police escort

to get them back safely.

Then once here,
we put the planes down
on the ground.

And then we started
reassembling the wings
using cranes.

But Luigi wasn't done yet.

For his new venture,

he wanted to recreate
in perfect detail some of
the world's finest artworks.

This isn't a caricature
of the Renaissance.

These are real paintings.
They look good.

You've got Michelangelo's
The Creation of Adam
and The Last Judgment,

the original of which
sits above the altar
in the Sistine Chapel.

All in, everything cost me
10 billion lira.

In total,
that's around $4 million
of borrowed money.

The pressure was on to
make the business a success.

In the summer of 2000,
the restaurant
opened its doors.

It was truly exciting
to see this
room full of people,

and the tables turning over.

It would have been
2,000 to 3,000 people.

All of this
filled me with joy,

you have airplanes attached

to a fake control tower
in the middle of nowhere.

It's just wild that
this place was so popular.

One reason was that Luigi
had a secret weapon

to keep customers
coming back for more.

The restaurant became famous
for its oval shaped pizzas,

which apparently
was the only place in Italy

you could get them
at the time.

I won the European
Pizza Championship.

My strength was the quality
of the pizza dough.

The secret is
not to use tap water.

But it's not just about that.

I have personal secrets.
I can't say more.

The money was pouring in

and it looked like Luigi's
ambitious risk was paying off.

I felt proud and happy.

These are experiences that
one needs to have to
believe they are possible.

There was
a constant stream of people
lining up to get a table here,

but it also caught
the attention of
the wrong kind of people.

After a few months
of being open,

local authorities came
knocking at the door,

but they didn't come
for the pizza.

The government
comes after Luigi
claiming that he didn't get

any building permits
or the correct ones

to build
the Michelangelo Da Vinci.

They were
angry at me for the planes,

what they called
illegal constructions.

They said I had built
illegally here.

The government
demanded that the restaurant
be brought up to code.

But they also demanded
that Luigi pay

a massive fine
for breaking the rules

which at the time was
over half a million dollars.

Luigi was on
the verge of bankruptcy

and faced losing
his beloved business.

His only option
was to fight back.

He spends literally years
fighting this,

he goes back and forth
with the authorities.

They say he has to bring
his buildings up to code.

He says he will.

But there was one thing

that government officials
wouldn't budge on,

and that was that
he would have
to pay the massive fine.

Luigi remained defiant.

But in 2015, the judge
ordered him to pay up,

although, by that time,

the Michelangelo Da Vinci
restaurant

had already been forced
to close for good.

Only I know how
much I suffered.

I cried under the planes
here on my own.

I cried.

Over the next decade,

Luigi's labor of love became
the target of vandals.

Now, local businessman
Gianluca Bertin

has big plans
to bring it back to life.

I came here
for the first time
three years ago,

and I fell in love with it.

Right then,
I knew I wanted to buy it.

What we're doing now
are small adjustments
to fix the external part.

It's a very demanding job,
but we expect
to open in the spring of 2025.