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Narrator: When one of history's greatest inventors
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Narrator: When one of history's greatest inventors die
Narrator: When one of history's greatest inventors dies,
some of his prized archives
are lost under peculiar circumstances.
Alison Leonard: Tesla was found dead in his New York hotel room
in 1943.
His personal books, notes, and diagrams
were sealed in a total of 80 trunks,
which were shipped back to Tesla's native Yugoslavia.
But only 60 trunks arrived.
James Ellis: So where did those missing 20 trunks go?
Narrator: A plane carrying one of America's greatest musicians
mysteriously disappears over the English channel.
Amma Agbedor: Glenn Miller was a cultural phenomenon.
His hits, were anthems of a generation.
Adam Bunch: The timing of Miller's flight
could not have been worst.
What happened to the flight that carried Glenn Miller
toward the front lines?
Narrator: An ancient civilization responsible for
creating one of the Seven Wonders of the World vanishes.
James Ellis: For centuries, the Nabataeans had thrived.
However, by the 7th century, Petra had faded into obscurity.
How did such a prosperous civilization
vanish so dramatically?
Narrator: The chain of history has many missing links.
Prominent people.
Priceless treasures.
Extraordinary artifacts.
Their locations still unknown.
Lost to the fog of time.
What happens when stories of the past.
Become.
Vanished History.
♪♪
♪♪
Narrator: September, 1940.
As World War II raged, the legendary physicist Nikola Tesla
told a news reporter that he'd developed a "teleforce".
A powerful ion beam capable of disabling
any military aircraft up to 250 miles away.
Tesla intended to take his invention
to the U.S. government and stop the war.
Adam Bunch: Tesla hated war and wanted to make
war machines impractical.
But others saw his teleforce for its potential as an awe,
inspiring weapon, a death beam.
The Nazis wanted it, the Soviets wanted it.
And while the technology sounds so incredible
it's hard to believe,
Tesla had such an impressive track record
that if he said he could do something,
people tended to believe him.
Alison Leonard: Tesla was found dead in his New York hotel room
one day in 1943.
And various people and agencies swooped in.
His personal books, notes, and diagrams
were sealed in a total of 80 trunks,
which were carefully labeled, accounted for,
and ultimately shipped back to Tesla's native Yugoslavia.
But overseas, only 60 trunks arrived.
James Ellis: The contents of those documents,
if they could be found, might still impact our world,
for better, or worse.
So where did those missing 20 trunks go,
and who took them?
Narrator: Tesla was born in 1856,
in the Austrian Empire, now Croatia.
As a university student, he was shown a Gramme dynamo,
an impressive new device that could work as both
a direct-current motor and generator,
and felt it would be simpler and more efficient
if it could be made to work with alternating current.
Anthea Nardi: After graduation, when Tesla was only 24,
he was walking along, reciting lines
from Goethe's "Faust" to himself,
when the solution came to him.
And just like that, he'd invented the induction motor,
that's now used to generate power all over the world.
Adam Bunch: By 1887, Tesla,
still in his early 30's,
had filed seven patents related to power transmission
and motors that ran on AC power.
So Westinghouse bought his patents
during what became known as the War of the Currents
against Thomas Edison,
who championed the use of DC power, direct current.
Less than a decade later, more than 80% of all appliances
we're running on alternating current, AC.
Alison Leonard: Tesla spent his patent money and more
on building specialized laboratories.
A 20-storey tower in Colorado that generated
135-foot-long lightning bolts,
and an even taller one on Long Island
that he planned to use for wireless
transatlantic communications
to one day transmit wireless power all over the world.
Tesla seemed to envision every one of his inventions
benefiting humanity in some way.
Narrator: Wanting to ensure his "peace beam" got built,
Tesla sent a paper, with diagrams,
to many of the Allies.
The paper declared that his "teleforce" would shoot out
a super-narrow, concentrated stream of particles
at 270,000 miles per hour.
James Ellis: This is what is referred to today
as a charged particle beam weapon.
Tesla said his beam could take down a fleet of
10,000 warplanes up to 250 miles away,
thus making war impossible.
That got attention all right abroad and at home.
The United States government became extremely concerned
about Tesla's research falling into enemy hands.
Anthea Nardi: Tesla lived in hotels throughout
much of his life as an American citizen.
In 1943 he'd been residing on the 33rd floor
of a hotel near Penn Station.
One day, a member of the staff discovered him
lying face down in his room dead,
and wearing only a pair of socks.
Adam Bunch: The FBI quickly arrived on the scene,
even though there was no sign Tesla's death was suspicious.
He was 86 and not in the best health.
They were there for Tesla's papers,
which they then managed to keep to themselves
for almost a decade.
Alison Leonard: In 1952, the court ordered
that Tesla's personal effects,
including his papers and diagrams,
be released, and allowed to be sent to Belgrade,
under the care of the Nikola Tesla Museum.
That means it was sometime between leaving
Tesla's hotel room in 1943,
and reaching the museum in 1952,
that those 20 suitcases disappeared.
Narrator: If having a strong motivation,
access, and ample opportunity to remove the files are considered.
One needn't go far to find a possible suspect.
James Ellis: The United States government,
especially in the midst of World War II,
had plenty of urgent reasons to remove
the most significant files
from Tesla's trove of plans and documents.
Whether to use his teleforce
or wireless power transmission
for their military applications, or simply to make sure
the Nazis couldn't get their hands on them,
they may simply have felt they had no choice.
Anthea Nardi: Tesla's nephew, Sava Kosanovic
showed up at the hotel the morning after he found out
about Tesla's death,
but when he got there, Tesla's body had already been removed.
Not only that, but he claimed some of his uncle's
technical papers were missing,
as was a notebook Tesla kept.
Adam Bunch: Two days after Tesla's death,
a government department called the Office of Alien Property
Custodian seized the rest of his possessions
from the hotel room, including those 80 trunks.
That department was created to control enemy property
confiscated in the U.S., but Tesla was an American citizen,
so they probably had no legal right to do it
and just did it anyway.
Alison Leonard: Three weeks later, the government called
an expert in high-voltage physics from MIT
to examine and assess Tesla's papers, a Dr. John Trump.
That's right, that Trump,
President Donald Trump's uncle, as it happens.
Dr. Trump's report to the government said Tesla's work
over the last decade and a half of his life
was mostly speculative,
not new; not sound.
Narrator: But not everybody agreed
with John Trump's assessment;
there were people with pull and experience,
that felt otherwise.
James Ellis: After World War II was over
and while the OAP was still holding onto Tesla's papers,
the Air Technical Service Command requested
photostat copies of his papers on beam weaponry,
and never returned them.
And by 1958, DARPA,
the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency
started a top-secret project, "Seesaw",
with the aim of developing a Charged Particle Beam weapon.
Anthea Nardi: The FBI faced questions and accusations
of cover-ups for decades after Tesla's death.
To the extent that finally, in 2016,
they released over 250 pages of heavily redacted documents
about Tesla's papers,
many of which had been signed personally by Edgar Hoover,
the director of the FBI.
The released documents didn't disprove anyone's suspicions.
In fact, they showed just how intensely interested
in Tesla's files the FBI had been.
Narrator: Some believe that the only files
the United States government actually saw
were just 'left-overs', either duplicates,
or documents of lesser import importance,
that the people who took the 20 suitcases of files
didn't bother taking.
Adam Bunch: Nazi Germany would have had real interest
in Tesla's "Death Ray,"
and his wireless transmission of energy.
So they could add those inventions
to their growing collection
of "Wunderwaffen" - "Wonder Weapons."
Alison Leonard: But it wasn't just Nazi Germany.
The Soviets, America's ally at the time,
had paid Tesla $25,000
for the rights to some of his patents
on wireless power transmission in 1920.
They also paid him $250,000 in 1939,
after running a successful test on one phase of his
"Peace Beam."
So it's entirely possible that Tesla's files ended up
in foreign hands, the Soviets or the Nazis.
Narrator: Whoever it was that got the 20 missing suitcases
would have needed an operative with access to do so.
James Ellis: Tesla's nephew, the one that showed up at the hotel
promptly after his body was found,
was also a Yugoslavian politician,
and Yugoslavia's ambassador to the United States,
who happened to be stationed in New York City
during Tesla's final years.
Anthea Nardi: Apparently, when Kosanovic arrived at the hotel
that day he hired a locksmith to get into Tesla's room,
and then open his uncle's safe.
There was a memorial book from Tesla's 75th birthday inside;
Kosanovic took that, had the combination changed, and left.
The U.S. authorities flat-out thought
Kosanovic might be a spy,
who could sell Tesla's secrets to the Nazis, or the Soviets.
And they considered arresting him, but didn't.
Adam Bunch: Sava Kosanovic was the administrator
of Tesla's estate from the time the inventor died
until his own death in 1956.
He's the one who successfully got the courts
to release the trunks.
He had them sent to Belgrade in 1952.
So all through the 1950's, Soviet scientists
were able to access the archive through the Tesla Museum
in communist Yugoslavia,
while Western scientists would have had a much harder time.
Narrator: After decades of fruitlessly searching
for Tesla's missing files,
many scientists have decided his idea
for a "Peace beam" just isn't feasible.
Alison Leonard: In fact, charged-particle beam weapons
that both the United States and the Soviet Union
tried to develop during the Cold War
bore a striking similarity to Tesla's descriptions
of his Peace Beam; his teleforce.
They just couldn't get theirs to work.
James Ellis: The United States tried again, in the 1980's.
Ronald Reagan called this new version of the program
"Star Wars," and gave it an annual budget
bigger than NASA's,
but they still couldn't get it to work.
One decorated physicist who refused to help was John Trump.
Like Tesla, he was only interested in using science
for the betterment of humanity.
Anthea Nardi: The nephew of Dr. John Trump
established the "Space Force",
during his first term as President.
With a mission to secure America's interests
"in, from, and to space,"
and to limit opposition from adversaries.
You've got to wonder what the scientists working
for Space Force would do with Tesla's research,
if they were ever to find it.
Narrator: Nikola Tesla seems to have successfully taken
his knowledge about directed energy
and particle beam devices
with him when he died.
One can only hope that if his secrets are ever discovered,
they might be used to build weapons of peace
as he'd intended.
♪♪
♪♪
Narrator: Carved into crimson sandstone cliffs
in modern-day Jordan,
Petra was once the dazzling heart of the Nabataean Kingdom.
Renowned as master traders and desert tacticians,
the Nabataeans dominated the crossroads
of Africa, Asia, and Europe.
Alison Leonard: The Nabataeans emerged around 400 BCE
as nomadic tribes in the Negev and Arabian deserts,
and settled in Petra by 200 BCE.
Their mastery of the Incense Routes,
transporting luxury goods like frankincense, myrrh, and spices,
brought them immense wealth.
James Ellis: Petra was a vibrant metropolis with fountains,
lush gardens, and grand structures
like the Great Temple complex,
influences from Persia, Greece, Rome,
and Egypt converged in its architecture,
while alliances forged by King Aretas elevated Petra
to a cosmopolitan hub of trade and culture.
Amma Agbedor: Their towering rock-cut tombs
and lavish villas spoke of a civilization
unmatched in creativity and resilience.
But by the 7th century, the Nabataens had abandoned Petra
and seemingly disappeared.
So the question remains: how did a civilization
that cherished the boundless freedom of the desert
above all else meet its ultimate downfall?
Narrator: Known to the Nabataens as Raqmu,
Petra was far more than a red-rock outpost.
Adam Bunch: Early European explorers thought Petra
was little more than an acropolis filled with tombs.
But that all changed in 1812
when a Swiss adventurer was led to Petra by his guides
and became the first European to document the site in centuries.
Awed by the vast series of towering facades,
hidden passages, and sprawling temples.
James Ellis: The Nabataeans also demonstrated
advanced agricultural innovation.
Their engineers created a revolutionary
water management system of aqueducts, dams, and reservoirs
that sustained life and agriculture in the harsh desert.
These innovations enabled the cultivation of fruit trees,
wheat, and vineyards, and by the first century CE,
the city supported over 20,000 residents.
Alison Leonard: But even as the Nabataeans reached their zenith,
external pressures began to mount,
threatening the stability of their desert empire.
Shifting trade routes, natural upheavals,
and changing economies chipped away at their dominance.
James Ellis: For centuries, the Nabataeans had thrived
by adapting to shifting geopolitics
and environmental challenges.
However, by the 7th century, Petra and the Nabataens
who had built it, had faded into obscurity;
the stunning city had been abandoned by all
except local Bedouins from the area.
How did such a prosperous civilization
vanish so dramatically?
Narrator: Some trace Petra's decline
to a moment of transformation,
a turning point that redefined the Nabataeans' identity
and their place in history.
Amma Agbedor: In 106 CE, Emperor Trajan annexed
the Nabataean Kingdom following the death of
King Rabbel Soter II, transforming it
into the Roman province of Arabia Petraea.
Roman accounts portray this transition
as a seamless and peaceful incorporation,
with the Nabataeans depicted as willing participants
in the Empire's expansion.
This theory suggests that the Nabataeans' independent identity
simply faded into the folds of imperial history.
Adam Bunch: According to the Roman stories,
Petra initially flourished as a provincial hub,
despite the upheaval.
Roman engineers built the Via Nova Traiana,
a major road linking Aqaba on the Red Sea in Jordan
to Bostra in southern Syria.
They expanded farming terraces, put up watchtowers,
renovated parks and pools,
all signs that Rome was determined
to integrate Petra into its empire.
Narrator: Beneath the surface of this seemingly
harmonious transition,
recent discoveries point to a more turbulent reality.
James Ellis: Ancient carvings in the deserts of northern Arabia
tell a story at odds with official Roman accounts.
One text describes a "war of the Nabataeans"
and a King named Malichos smiting 3,000 Roman soldiers.
These inscriptions may confirm that the Nabataeans
resisted Rome more forcefully than the empire admitted.
Amma Agbedor: Some suggest that Rabbel Soter II
may have left behind two heirs
who refused to yield the Kingdom without a fight.
It's possible Rome named the new province "Arabia Petraea"
to erase the Nabataean identity from the land
and bury any record of protracted conflict.
Ultimately, Petra's decline may have involved
far more than conquest.
Rome's annexation was likely just one chapter
in a deeper story of resilience and resistance,
raising questions about whether it was truly the beginning
of the end or merely part of a larger story.
Narrator: Petra and its people would face another,
far greater challenge, one that struck without warning
and placed its future on precarious ground.
Adam Bunch: Another factor in the Nabataeans' disappearance
that often gets mentioned is a catastrophic earthquake
that struck the region on May 19th, 363 CE,
during the reign of the Emperor Julian.
Contemporary observers said it was one of the most
devastating seismic events of the late Roman period.
Experts say it might have been somewhere between
6.5 to 7 on the Richter scale.
Alison Leonard: Excavations in Petra revealed collapsed
columns at the Temple of the Winged Lions,
the Great Temple, and elsewhere,
consistent with intense shaking.
Further damage came from the failure
of anti-flash flood systems,
causing thick layers of sediment and rubble
to bury certain areas of the city.
James Ellis: With their homes destroyed
and water channels compromised,
many residents could have fled to nearby agricultural sites
such as Baydha and Wadi Musa,
where springs and less damaged landscapes
offered greater stability.
And though some rebuilding efforts were attempted
in Petra, they were small-scale
and often used salvaged materials,
resulting in crude, makeshift designs.
Amma Agbedor: But here's the catch.
Despite the devastation caused by the earthquake,
Petra endured for almost 300 more years,
which forces us to explore alternative theories.
Narrator: Though the Nabataeans' heritage endured in subtle ways,
the sands of time soon brought another transformation,
one that would reshape Petra's identity
and its place in history,
leaving lingering questions about its ultimate fate.
Adam Bunch: Archeologists looking to explain
the Nabataean's disappearance have also been exploring
the impact of Islamic conquests in the 600's.
There's some evidence hinting that as Muslim armies
expanded across the Arabian Peninsula, Petra,
which had already declined from its days as a major trading hub,
might have been integrated into the Islamic world.
Alison Leonard: Petra's strategic location
on key routes through South Jordan
initially made it a focal point for these conquests,
but eventually, the rise of cities like Ayla and Tabuk
redirected commerce and military focus away from Petra.
By 630 CE, treaties with local leaders signaled
the growing influence of Islamic governance in the region.
James Ellis: Excavations at Baydha, a settlement near Petra,
revealed a more complex narrative,
stating from the 11th to 14th centuries
and constructed atop Nabataean foundations,
point to gradual integration rather than abrupt erasure.
Amma Agbedor: Based on the evidence,
it's most likely the Islamic conquests did not erase
the Nabataeans.
Instead, Petra became a living tapestry of Nabataean,
Byzantine, and Islamic influences,
a testament to the resilience and adaptability of its people.
Narrator: From humble origins to its golden age,
Petra and the Nabataeans who shaped it,
remains a testament to human ingenuity
in one of the world's harshest landscapes.
Adam Bunch: Recent discoveries have only added
to the wonders of Petra.
A tomb recently uncovered beneath the famous treasury
held not just 12 skeletons, but also hundreds of artifacts
made of bronze and iron and ceramics.
But just another reminder that the people who lived at Petra
had a society filled with refined customs and ceremonies.
Alison Leonard: The Nabataeans' deep understanding
of arid landscapes and their preference for mobility
allowed their culture to outlast Petra's decline.
Their ingenious water systems, thriving trade networks,
and artistic achievements influenced civilizations
long after the city was at its peak.
Narrator: The astounding city of Petra,
carved into crimson cliffs, silently recounts
a thousand-year saga of resilience, triumph,
and reinvention.
A legacy that continues to inspire awe
in the shifting sands of the desert.
♪♪
♪♪
Narrator: December 15, 1944.
With the Allied advance into Europe quickening
and morale a precious resource,
a single-engine plane slipped into a dense, cold mist
above England.
Onboard was Major Glenn Miller, America's most celebrated
bandleader turned wartime morale officer,
bound for a new stage in liberated Paris.
Amma Agbedor: By the mid-1940's,
Glenn Miller was a cultural phenomenon.
His hits, like In the Mood and Moonlight Serenade,
were anthems of a generation.
But at the height of his fame,
Miller made a remarkable choice.
He walked away from stardom,
and enlisted to serve his country.
James Ellis: In war-torn Europe, Miller's music
was more than entertainment, it was a lifeline.
His broadcasts, carried by the BBC
and the Allied Expeditionary Forces Programme,
resonated in damp barracks, crowded field hospitals,
and muddy foxholes.
Alison Leonard: On December 15, 1944,
Miller arrived at RAF Twinwood Farm near Bedford
to board a flight to Paris,
where his band planned to meet him.
The city was still reeling from the grip of Nazi occupation,
and Miller had prepared a Christmas concert
to uplift Allied troops.
Adam Bunch: The timing of Miller's flight
couldn't have been worse.
The very next morning, the Germans launched the attack
that began the Battle of the Bulge.
Allied command was plunged into chaos.
So no one realized the Norseman had disappeared.
It was days before anyone realized the plane
and its passengers were gone.
And decades later, the question is still unanswered.
What happened to the flight carrying Glenn Miller
toward the front lines.
Narrator: December 1944 marked a pivotal moment in the war.
The Allies, fresh from the liberation of Paris,
were pressing toward the Rhine,
while German forces prepared a devastating counterattack
to stall their advance.
For soldiers on frozen battlefields,
hope was as vital as ammunition.
Amma Agbedor: In 1942, Miller was turned away by the Navy
due to his age, so he presented the Army with a bold plan:
to modernize military bands and harness music
as a morale booster.
This vision led to the creation of
the Major Glenn Miller Army Air Force Band,
which revolutionized entertainment
for troops around the world.
James Ellis: By 1943, Supreme Allied Commander
Dwight Eisenhower recognized the need for familiar voices
and music to lift the spirits of American troops
stationed in England.
The newly launched American Forces Network,
filled with news, sports, and music from home,
quickly boosted morale and the results showed.
Eisenhower wanted more, he specifically requested
that Glenn Miller be moved to the UK
to keep spirits high among Allied troops.
Alison Leonard: After Paris was liberated in August,
Miller was eager to bring his music
to GI's on leave in the city.
But the AFN and BBC were reluctant to let him go,
since they relied heavily on his band's recordings
to fill their programming.
To secure their approval, Miller took on
a grueling schedule, recording an astonishing 84 hours
of programming over the course of 3 weeks.
His efforts paid off and the plan was announced:
Glenn Miller was heading to Paris.
Narrator: At 1:55 p.m. on December 15,
Miller boarded a UC-64A Norseman
alongside Lt. Col. Norman Baessell
and pilot John Morgan
and the men began their ill-fated journey
across the English Channel to Villacoublay, France.
Adam Bunch: When Miller's band arrived in Paris
three days later, on December 18th,
he was nowhere to be found.
So they contacted military authorities,
and discovered no one there even knew
that he had ever taken off in the first place.
The Norseman had been reported
as missing over the English Channel,
but Miller was so impatient to get to France,
that he got on the plane without official permission.
So it was only the pilot who was listed
as having been on board.
Amma Agbedor: All we know is Miller's plane
flew within a few miles of Woodley Airfield at 2:12,
before it turned south and vanished.
This would mark the start of one of the greatest
unsolved mysteries of the war.
Narrator: Despite exhaustive searches,
no trace of Glenn Miller or the Norseman has ever been found.
The English Channel, crisscrossed by bombers,
transports, and reconnaissance planes,
was an unforgiving corridor.
In such volatile airspace, even the slightest miscalculation
could transform a routine flight into disaster.
James Ellis: Glenn Miller's Norseman may have drifted
into one of the most perilous areas above the Channel,
a Jettison zone.
Returning Allied Lancasters,
burdened with high-explosive payloads,
would circle these 10-mile areas to safely offload
their 500-pound bombs before landing in England.
Alison Leonard: The practice was vital for safety on the ground,
but for any aircraft flying below,
the consequences were catastrophic.
A single misstep into the zone could turn an ordinary flight
into a fatal encounter,
as tons of explosives rained down without warning.
Adam Bunch: On the day Glenn Miller's plane vanished,
a group of Lancaster bombers, nearly 140 of them,
returned from an aborted air raid over Germany.
The fighters meant to escort them had been grounded,
so the mission was called off.
And the bombers were full of more than
100,000 incendiary bombs,
payloads too dangerous to land with.
So the squadron set course for the South Jettison area,
part of the English Channel that was designated
as a dumping zone.
Amma Agbedor: Decades later, RAF navigator Fred Shaw recalled
that as his Lancaster neared the South Jettison Area,
he spotted a small, high-wing aircraft below.
Moments later, his squadron began releasing
their payload of bombs tumbling toward the sea.
If Shaw's story is accurate,
this tragic scenario might hold the answer
to Glenn Miller's disappearance.
Narrator: Initial doubts about Shaw's account
arose from discrepancies in the reported timelines.
Some reports claim the bombs were jettisoned at 1:40 p.m.,
but pilot John Morgan's flight log placed the Norseman
an hour ahead of the bombers.
Adam Bunch: Lancaster bombers typically jettisoned
their payloads from altitudes of 5,000 to 6,000 feet.
And from those heights, it's thought that a Norseman flying
much closer to the water would just look like a tiny speck,
almost invisible to the bombers,
even in clear skies.
Amma Agbedor: Crucially, no Lancaster crews reported
seeing an aircraft in distress or filing any reports
of an incident, as was their strict obligation.
So in the end, the friendly fire idea feels more like
speculation born out of the confusion of war,
pushing us to look at other, more likely explanations.
Narrator: The skies of 1944 held more than just danger
from above, hidden within the fragile machines
carrying the men lay vulnerabilities
waiting to betray them.
James Ellis: Another explanation focuses on the aircraft itself.
The UC-64A Norseman was built for durability
and designed to meet the demands of wartime aviation.
But its simplicity also left it vulnerable.
Its single engine, lightweight steel frame,
and minimal safety systems, were practical for logistics,
but offered no protection
against the engineering challenges of winter flying.
One recurring issue, carburetor icing, could turn even
the sturdiest planes into death traps.
Alison Leonard: Carburetor icing was a mechanical flaw
rather than a purely environmental hazard.
When moisture in the air froze inside the engine's fuel intake,
it restricted airflow and starved the engine of power.
Pilots frequently reported this issue with the Norseman,
particularly in cold, damp conditions.
Adam Bunch: During the war, ground crews were overworked
and had limited resources.
So they had to prioritize combat aircraft
over transport planes like the Norseman.
So even relatively easy to fix issues
like an improperly calibrated carburetor
or a crack in a fuel line were easily overlooked.
Narrator: If the Norseman's engine failed mid-flight,
Captain Morgan's response would have been critical.
But the perilous conditions over the English Channel
left him little time or space to act.
Amma Agbedor: Flying low beneath the cloud cover
to maintain visibility,
Morgan would have had no margin for error.
At that altitude, even a brief engine stall could be fatal.
The Norseman's lightweight, fabric-covered frame
would have offered no protection in a crash.
Once it hit the water, it likely disintegrated,
leaving no trace for investigators to find.
James Ellis: To our knowledge, there were no significant
issues with Miller's aircraft,
and no distress signals were sent during the flight.
Even with a mechanical failure, an experienced pilot
like Morgan might have managed a controlled ditching
if given time to react.
If the engine failed, why didn't he send a Mayday signal?
Or was the situation too sudden and catastrophic to allow it?
Narrator: For some, the answer lies not in faulty machinery
but in the unrelenting forces of nature
that turned the skies over the English Channel
into a battleground no pilot could hope to conquer.
Alison Leonard: The most straightforward explanation
is also the most haunting.
Glenn Miller's Norseman fell victim
to the brutal winter skies.
Weather over the Channel in December 1944
was notoriously treacherous, and December 15 was no exception,
with a 300-foot ceiling and ice due to freezing drizzle.
Adam Bunch: When the Norsemen lifted off,
the weather was foggy, but seemed manageable.
Once they got over the channel, the conditions got worse.
Records suggest that dense cloud layers
stretch from sea level upward,
conditions, that would have been ideal
for causing icing at lower altitudes.
Amma Agbedor: The English Channel in winter
was infamous among aviators.
Sudden gusts, violent turbulence,
and thick fog often reduced even the most seasoned pilots
to flying by instinct alone.
Visibility could vanish without warning,
leaving crews disoriented and vulnerable
in an endless, featureless void.
James Ellis: To maintain visibility,
pilots often flew low beneath the cloud cover.
But flying so close to the sea came with its own risks.
Over the Channel, Atlantic winds could have collided
with coastal drafts, creating sudden turbulence.
A single downdraft could pull a plane into the water
within seconds.
But given the absence of solid evidence,
it's impossible to conclude that weather conditions
caused the disappearance.
Narrator: Despite decades of investigation,
no trace of Glenn Miller, his companions,
or their aircraft has ever been confirmed.
But tantalizing clues persist, keeping the mystery alive
and tied to the enduring legacy of his music.
Alison Leonard: In 1987, a retired trawler man reported
pulling up wreckage he believed was Miller's Norseman.
Though he was told to return it to the Channel,
he recorded the coordinates,
a potential clue tied to historical aircraft data.
The Norseman was the only plane of its kind
lost during the war,
and its unique steel-tubed fuselage and engine
could still confirm its identity if found.
Narrator: From his early days as a struggling trombonist
to creating a signature sound that defined the Big Band era,
Miller's story is one of persistence and innovation.
His disappearance over the English Channel remains
a mystery, but his music continues to resonate,
transcending time and connecting audiences across decades.
♪♪
♪♪
Narrator: In 435 BCE, renowned sculptor Phidias
completed his masterpiece,
a towering 40-foot statue of Zeus,
the supreme deity of the ancient Greek pantheon.
Housed in a special temple at Olympia,
the sculpture presided over the Olympic games
for nine centuries.
James Ellis: Zeus' statue became the focus of the games;
the procession of athletes and spectators, who had pilgrimaged
from all over Greece to attend, marched through the temple
on the way to the stadium,
to observe this colossal effigy, and pay their respects.
Anthea Nardi: The statue and its temple weren't just
the focus of the games;
they were one of the Seven Ancient Wonders of the World.
People came from all over the Mediterranean
to experience this sublime sculpture of the God
who ruled over the other Gods.
Adam Bunch: We know the statue existed for at least
about 900 years, but by the 5 or 600 CE, it was gone.
There are lots of theories about what happened to it,
but no conclusive evidence.
So how does an enormous 40-foot sculpture disappear?
What did happen to Olympia's famous Statue of Zeus?
Narrator: Because Olympia had no full-time civilian population,
it was not considered a city,
but rather a sanctuary site with over 700 structures
dedicated to the worship of Zeus
and for hosting the games meant to honor him.
James Ellis: Just as they are now,
the games were held every four years, even in times of war.
This was a religious event, meant to be enjoyed not only
by people but by the Gods themselves,
so a sacred truce would be in place to ensure peace
while the games were on.
Anthea Nardi: Ironically, a disagreement between two
nearby towns, Elis and Pisa,
over which of them should have the right to oversee the games,
is what led to war.
The towns fought for decades,
and when Elis finally came out on top,
the town decided to celebrate the victory
and spend some of the loot they'd stolen during the war,
by building a fabulous temple dedicated to Zeus.
Adam Bunch: The Temple of Zeus was finished about 460 BCE
and it would have instantly become a famous landmark
right near the main Olympic Stadium.
It was nearly 100 feet wide and more than 200 feet long,
six massive columns on the front and 13 down the sides.
And inside you'd find a chamber called a cella
that was built for one central purpose
to house a towering statue of the King of the Gods.
Narrator: Phidias already had a reputation
for creating a colossal sculpture of the Goddess Athena
for the Parthenon in Athens.
For the statue of Zeus, he had a huge workshop built in Olympia,
seemingly determined to outdo himself.
Anthea Nardi: By 435 BCE, the enormous statue was completed,
and installed in the temple.
There was a 20 by 30 foot podium of black marble
on which Zeus sat on his throne.
His features were meticulously sculpted,
with precious jewels inlaid in his eyes.
In one hand he held a scepter with an eagle;
in the other, a statue of Nike, the Goddess of victory.
Adam Bunch: The statue helped Olympia become one of the most
important religious centers in Greece.
It was so famous, there were even miniature likenesses of it
depicted on coins, which is part of
how we know what it looked like.
It was a must-see on people's bucket lists for centuries.
But then, at some point before the end of the 500's CE,
the statue disappeared.
Narrator: It's possible the statue of Zeus,
the God who wielded one form of nature's power,
may have been destroyed by an even greater force of nature
Zeus did not control.
Amma Agbedor: This part of the world experienced
powerful earthquakes during the first millennium CE;
one of them could have brought the Temple of Zeus down,
and smashed Phydias's masterpiece to bits.
After the ruins of Olympia were discovered,
and ultimately excavated, in the late 19th century,
evidence emerged that led to this theory.
James Ellis: As the Temple of Zeus was uncovered,
many columns of its southern flank were splayed out
in a pattern like fallen dominoes,
which immediately suggested
that only something as overwhelming as an earthquake
could have toppled them.
Anthea Nardi: The geological record shows,
there were catastrophic quakes
in that part of Greece in 522 CE,
and again, in 551 CE.
The 551 event even resulted in the site being buried
under more than 25 feet of silt
from the Alpheios and Kladeos Rivers.
Adam Bunch: Some people question that theory, though.
Modern simulations have suggested that the earthquake
in 551 wouldn't have been powerful enough
to topple the columns into that particular pattern,
but they clearly did fall.
So if it wasn't an earthquake, historians are left
to figure out what else could have brought them down.
Narrator: Some have speculated
that not even the King of the Gods
can stay above the law of the land for very long.
Amma Agbedor: The Temple of Zeus in Olympia,
along with the world-famous statue it contained,
may have been intentionally destroyed,
per the orders of Rome's Christian leadership.
In the late 4th century CE,
the Roman Emperor Theodosius I outlawed all pagan cults
throughout the Empire.
Pagan sanctuaries were to be abandoned;
and all non-Christian rituals were banned.
The Olympics, which had been held every four years
for almost 12 centuries, were ended.
James Ellis: The Emperor had not, not yet, anyway,
ordered the destruction of pagan temples themselves.
But one overenthusiastic prefect in the town of Apamea
took it upon himself to demolish a temple there,
that was dedicated to Zeus,
by having its columns pulled down.
Anthea Nardi: They tried with teams of draft animals
and ropes, and the columns wouldn't budge.
So they tried something brilliant.
undermined one side of three of the columns,
supported that side by inserting timber beams,
undermined some more, and then lit the beams on fire.
The beams burned away, and the three columns toppled,
smashing into, and taking down another twelve,
and possibly at least part of the roof.
They said that the crashing sound was heard
throughout the town.
Adam Bunch: Some researchers have suggested
that if the same technique was used
on the Temple of Zeus at Olympia,
that might explain the toppled dominoes pattern.
But whatever the cause,
an earthquake or intentional demolition,
there's another unanswered question.
If the statue of Zeus was destroyed in the temple,
why haven't we found any trace of gold or ivory from it?
Narrator: When all efforts at finding proof something existed
in a certain place have been exhausted,
it may lead to one simple but surprising conclusion.
Amma Agbedor: Maybe the statue of Zeus just wasn't there.
Not by the time of the destruction
of the temple, anyway.
It may have been moved to Constantinople,
now Istanbul, over 400 miles across the Sea of Marmara.
James Ellis: The thing is, even well after pagan rituals
and beliefs had been banned, the Statue of Zeus was recognized
by many as an important work of art.
And somewhere around 430 CE, the Imperial Chamberlain
of Theodosius, a man named Lausus,
might have used his money and position to acquire the statue
for his private collection of "pagan antiquities."
Adam Bunch: In 475 CE, there was a great fire in Constantinople,
and it swept right through the area
where the Palace of Lausos stood.
Later, historians reported that the palace was destroyed,
along with the statues inside it,
but we don't know if Zeus was one of them.
Narrator: Though Phidias's later life is something of a mystery,
we know that the great Statue of Zeus at Olympia
turned out to be his greatest and last masterpiece.
Amma Agbedor: There are accounts that Phidias was implicated
in a number of crimes,
targeted by enemies of one of his benefactors.
He was accused of stealing gold from one of his own statues,
which was disproved, but he was convicted of "impiety",
for carving his own likeness
into the Goddess Athena's shield.
For that he was jailed.
After that, the historical record is inconclusive;
he may have died in jail,
or he may have been released into exile.
Narrator: The Statue of Zeus stood tall in Olympia
for roughly a thousand years and could be said to have achieved
a kind of immortality even beyond that.
Phidias' depiction of Zeus seated on his throne
became the standard, copied and repeated
for Gods and mortals ever since.
♪♪
♪♪
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