All language subtitles for Hazardous.History.with.Henry.Winkler.S01E05.Treacherous.Travel.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

Did you know that
there was a time

when kids could travel by mail?

One day, a mailman in Ohio

is given a curious
package to deliver.

It is an eight-month-old,
10-pound baby.

Do you remember when air
travel meant champagne luxury

and mile-high madness?

But as much as you
want to sit there

and enjoy your
freshly-carved roast beef,

you can't while you're
fearing for your life.

Do you remember when
the year's hottest car

was downright explosive?

Every time you fill up,
you have to check your oil?

I'm not sure I
want this vehicle.

These things would
go down the main strip

and the engine would
burst into the flames.

These are the
things we used to do

for fun, for money, or
maybe out of boredom,

that we'll never see again.

Were they dangerous?

Certainly.

Deadly?

Occasionally.

But boy, wasn't it exciting.

Before cars, America
ran on horsepower.

And by that, I mean
the power of horses.

By the end of the 1800s, in
major cities like New York,

they were everywhere,

which presented a very
particular problem.

By 1900, New York City
is home to 170,000 horses.

They're an essential
mode of transportation,

but they have one
major drawback.

If it were possible
to travel back in time,

the thing that would stun
people is the stink, the smell.

People are flocking
to New York City

thinking the streets
are paved with gold.

As it turns out, most of
the streets aren't paved,

and a lot of them are
covered with manure.

The average horse
drops between 25 and

30 pounds of manure

on the streets of New
York every single day.

So that's about 25 pounds
times 170,000 horses.

In a year, that's
1.5 billion pounds.

The Big Apple is not the
only city with a manure crisis.

A British newspaper
reports that by 1950,

London, England will be
buried in nine feet of dung.

And by that same metric,

New York is gonna be
buried in 30 feet.

City street cleaners
can't keep up,

and besides that, they use
horse-drawn garbage wagons.

So at best, they are two steps
forward and one step back.

Even with modern technology,

the city of New York
would require a fleet

of 250 garbage trucks

just to clear all of the horse
manure out of the streets

with each passing day.

It's so bad that
those who can afford it

hire these private
crossing sweepers

who can clear a
poop-free path for them.

You think it can't get worse?

Just wait until it rains.

Rain wouldn't run off
and clean the streets.

Instead, it would turn the
streets into open source.

All this sitting manure
becomes a hotbed for disease.

Typhoid outbreaks are
running rampant in the city.

These flies land
on the manure,

and then they go and land
on your arm, or your meal,

and that's how the
disease spreads.

Typhoid fever is no joke.

Severe cases can lead
to internal bleeding

and even kidney failure.

One magazine reports
that horse manure

and the diseases it spreads

contributes to the deaths
of 20,000 people per year.

That's enough people to
fill Madison Square Garden.

And horse owners
often leave more behind

than just their horse's waste.

Many of these
horses are overworked,

and so if they don't
last more than two years

and when they collapse, when
they have a heart attack,

when they drop dead,

it's quite common for the owner

to simply unhook the
harness and roll away,

leaving the carcass
on the street.

So, the streets of Manhattan

were literally littered
by horse corpses.

In 1880 alone,

New York City removes more than
15,000 dead horse carcasses.

That's more than 40
dead horses per day.

Some cities even leave
the dead horse carcasses

until they start to decompose,

making it easier for them to
be sawn apart and carted away.

Not only do decomposing horses

contribute to health problems,

but they're also
clogging up the streets

and causing traffic jams.

Starting in the early 1900s,

more and more cars start
hitting the streets in cities.

Cars are cleaner,
they're quieter,

and they're safer than their
four-legged counterparts.

By 1912, New York City
has more cars than horses,

and eventually they
completely take over.

Today, Central
Park is still home

to roughly 200 carriage horses,

but now they are
required to use diapers

and manure catchers.

When cars replaced horses as
the preferred mode of travel,

the streets were still untamed,

because at first,

not only did you not need a
license to get behind the wheel,

you didn't even need a lesson.

In the dawn of
the 20th century,

there's about 8,000
vehicles on the road.

The wealthy who
could afford a car

hired a chauffeur to
drive them around.

Oh, of course, it's an
affectation of wealth.

You know, they
needed to be driven.

The truth of the matter is the
wealthy were hiring drivers

not as a status symbol,

but simply 'cause no one
knew how to drive a car.

In 1908, Henry Ford
releases the Ford Model T.

It retails for around $850,

which gives nearly
every American

the ability to get
behind the wheel.

By 1917, there are
5 million automobiles

on the highways and
byways of America,

and they all have
thing in common.

Nobody knows how to
drive any of them.

Today, drivers
have to pass a written exam

and a road test.

But a century ago,

most states didn't
even require a license.

1919, New York City,

they only require
a driver's license

for people who drive
their car 11 days or more

throughout the year,

which means that if you drive
a car for 10 days or less,

you don't have to
have a license.

So you could get
behind the wheel of a car

and do whatever you want.

So long as it's not
for 11 days in a year.

Can you imagine getting
pulled over by the police

and saying, "No, officer,
I don't have my license.

It's my third day of driving."

There's also no age limits.

So, it's possible to see kids

that are 10, 11, 12 years
old driving the family car

or making deliveries in a truck.

But, it gets way, way worse.

There are no rules of the
road at this point in history.

No one knows about
yielding, right of way.

Motorists park
wherever they see fit.

Could be in front
of fire hydrants

or even in an intersection.

You had people not
just running into cars,

but more often than not,
hitting pedestrians.

And you still have
horses and carriages,

and now you're spooking them
with horns and with engines,

and you're trying to navigate
in and around people weaving

and trolley cars weaving.

It was a dangerous time.

Tons of accidents.

That was really the
Wild West of driving.

By 1913, 4,000
people have died

in automobile-related accidents.

And a decade later, that
number reaches 12,000.

All the deaths and accidents
really spark an outrage.

People started
calling them murderers

and the cars were weapons.

I mean, it was a
very tumultuous time.

The press brand drivers
as killers and murderers.

Things get so bad

that cities start to
organize safety parades.

They even had kids dressing
in these skeleton costumes

to try to remind people like,

"Don't hit me, I'm
a living thing."

In 1914,

America starts to take
control of the car problem.

The first electric traffic
lights come into play.

There's two colors,
green and red.

Green says move
and red says stop.

We start to see laws
regulating speed.

Someone in Detroit
used the paint marker

that you would use
on a tennis court

to basically paint some lines

for pedestrians to
walk across the street,

thus birthing the crosswalks
that we all know and use today.

They knew that there needed
to be rules of the road.

There needed to be traffic lanes
and proper flow of driving.

So kind of like what a sheriff
puts law in a lawless town,

that's sort of
what had to happen

in an effort to stop killing
Americans with automobiles.

Eventually, all states

require a driver's license,

although it takes some
longer than others.

It's crazy to think,

especially when you look
at films from the '50s

and you see everyone
in their hot rods.

It wasn't until 1954

that South Dakota required
a driver's license,

and they don't even require
a driving test until 1959.

By the 1930s,

just about every town in America

had at least one
working traffic signal,

and the amount of
automobile-related casualties

went down by nearly a half.

In the old days of air travel,

passengers dressed up like
they were going out on the town

greeted by stewardesses in
crisp uniforms and white gloves

who serve cocktails
with a smile.

Flying wasn't just
transportation, it was an event.

By the middle of
the 20th century,

airlines aren't competing
with one another

in terms of price.

The basis of competition
from one airline to the next,

it's the perks, baby.

Now, I'm not just talking
about an eye mask,

a pillow, a deck of cards,
or those cute little wings.

First class was as opulent
as a modern-day cruise.

You would have meals prepared,

meat carved by your tableside,

champagne in crystal
glasses and decanters.

Even in coach, things
were much nicer than today.

Flight attendants were
actually cooking breakfast,

fresh eggs delivered
on an aluminum tray.

This golden age of air
travel is romanticized

in movies and on television,

but the real experience
was not all that romantic.

Flying in the '50s and '60s,

a lot of planes
still had propellers,

which meant that they
were really turbulent.

But as much as you
want to sit there

and enjoy your
freshly-carved roast beef

or your glass of champagne,

you can't while you're, you
know, fearing for your life,

being thrown around like
a ball in a bingo hopper.

Passengers get
physically ill regularly,

and often, they end
up covered in vomit.

Things are so bad

that one airline has to
rip up all of its carpeting

and replace it with rubber mat.

And it's not
just the turbulence

leading to queasy stomachs.

They used to let
people smoke on planes,

and not only let
you smoke on planes,

they would literally
provide you with cigarettes

as a perk of flying
on the plane.

But if you're a non-smoker,

the entire experience
becomes really noxious.

So now, picture of the
plane shaking violently,

stinking of cigarette smoke.

And you're also dealing with
the fact that the fuselage

is not the modern
airframe that we think of,

which means that hydraulic
fluid, and engine oil,

and jet fuel, and all those
wonderful tasty smells,

they're leaking
into the cockpit.

Hmm.

That's exactly what
you wanna smell

when you're feeling nauseous.

The golden era of
travel ends in the '70s

when Congress passes a law

deregulating the
airline industry,

which means that the airlines

have to recoup
their money somehow,

so they decide to start
cutting all of these perks.

In 1994, Delta becomes
the first US airline

to ban smoking,

and by 2000, it's banned
on every single flight,

domestic and international.

So, we no longer have
the lobster and champagne

served in flight,

but we also don't have
constant vomiting.

Traveling by plane has
always been a challenge

for parents with a baby.

Well, in the 1950s,

some airlines came up with a
whole new idea to make flights

a little more comfortable
for the whole family,

except, of course, the baby.

Early commercial flying
isn't exactly kid-friendly.

I mean, there are no
priority boardings,

there's no kids seating,
there's no kids meals.

In the 1950s and '60s,

there was one innovation

to make traveling
with babies easier.

That was the skycot.

The skycot was like this
hammock construction

that you would hang from
the overhead compartment,

and your baby would be in there

and could sleep and rock back
and forth during the flight.

Skycots
are used most often

on long international or
transcontinental flights.

Sounds glamorous and elegant.

It's not so much in practice.

These skycots are not
built into the plane.

I mean, they are precariously
attached to the overhead space

by use of a couple of clamps.

I mean, it looks just
right out of DIY.

As a parent who
has had her children

sleeping across her
on many long flights,

I do understand it might be nice

to have them suspended overhead,

but I think from a
safety perspective,

it would actually be
extremely stressful.

There are no restraints
inside the cot,

there's exposed hardware,

and there are minimal
structural supports.

So, when turbulence
hits, watch out below.

Not only are they
unsafe for the children,

but the passengers underneath
have to be worried about this,

you know, this child falling
on top of their heads.

You might not be surprised
to learn the skycot

didn't stick around that long,

but for hands-off parents who
needed to get their children

from one destination to another,

where there's a
will, there's a way.

In 1913, the US Postal
Service unveils the parcel post.

It is a service

for anything that exceeds
the four-pound limit

that a normal letter
must adhere to.

The new service
is an instant hit.

Within the first six months,

the Post Office handles
over 300 million parcels.

One day, a mailman in
Ohio is making his rounds

when he is given a curious
package to deliver.

It is an eight-month-old,
10-pound baby.

Now, technically,

there is nothing in
the postal guidelines

that prohibits delivering
a baby by mail.

The mailman pops the
baby into his wagon

and delivers him safely
to grandmother's house

just a couple miles
down the road.

News of
this unconventional

travel arrangement
quickly spreads.

So this story made
national headlines,

and you think it would've
caused a backlash?

People would've said, "Oh, what
horrible parents they are."

No, actually, it didn't.

If anything, it
popularizes the practice,

and other families start saying,

"Hey, maybe I'll throw
my kid in the mail, too."

When the
parcel service limit

raises to 50 pounds,

even more parents take advantage
of this human loophole.

One of the craziest stories
happens in February 1914,

Charlotte Pierstorff of Iowa

is mailed to her grandmother's
house over 73 miles away.

At 48.5 pounds,

she sneaks in just
under the weight limit.

At 53 cents in postage,

she's a whole bunch
cheaper than a rail ticket.

Young Charlotte was fine,

and there are no
records of any kids

getting lost or damaged.

Even so, the US Postal
Service at this point says,

"Look, enough is enough.

Stop sending your kids
through the mail."

There's something
so heartwarming

and wholesome about faith
in kind of public services,

and also in community

that you could put
your baby in the mail

and you trust it to make
it to its destination.

Sending your kid
off with the mailman?

Well, back then,

most people knew their
mail carrier by name

and trusted them completely.

Remember watching
"The Jetsons"

and loving the idea
of flying cars?

That idea wasn't as farfetched
as you might have imagined,

because years before,

the US military tried to make
personal aircraft a reality.

In the 1950s,

the United States finds
itself firmly ensconced

in the jet age.

So there's this fascination

among all these
private companies

and inventors with
creating flying machines.

And even the US Armed
Forces gets involved.

The military did realize
that smaller aircraft,

whether for reconnaissance
mission rescue missions,

or even just to roll out
telecommunications cable

on the battlefield
would be essential.

Ultimately, the Navy
and Hiller Aviation

create the XRQE-1,

affectionately known
as the Rotor Cycle.

Okay, hold
on tight, and away we go.

The manufacturer
believes the device

will give America's Marines
a new way to hit the enemy.

The rotor cycle is a
miniaturized helicopter

weighing about 300 pounds.

There are two rotors,
there's a tail boom,

and a small engine.

What was so
remarkable about it

was that no tools were
required to assemble it.

It was geared in such a way

that any soldier could put it
together in under 10 minutes.

It can't carry much,

but it's an
individualized aircraft

that is capable of moving
that person over terrain

that would otherwise represent
a barrier to progress,

and it does it in speeds
approaching 70 miles an hour.

Bear in mind, traveling
70 miles an hour

in an open-cockpit
vehicle is terrifying.

You can
climb to 13,000 feet

and has a range of 155
miles without refueling.

Though the Rotor
Cycle is supposed to be simple,

flying it is anything but.

This was geared
towards a non-pilot pilot

that's very easy to get
spatial disorientation,

unless you are at
very low altitude.

If you're at a low altitude,

well, now, you're
susceptible to ground fire.

And being that you
don't have a fuselage

or, you know, a cockpit,

you could easily end
up extremely dead.

It's a flop.

Only 12 units are constructed
and none see active service.

The military
along with Hiller

go back to the drawing board,

and they come up with
the Flying Platform.

The Flying Platform is
different than the Rotor Cycle

in that you're not hanging
from a spinning propeller.

Instead, there are two fans
that are producing lift

by pushing down,

and the soldier or marine inside

is being lifted off
the ground from below.

The operator would have
to generate a hover

using balance like you
would riding a bicycle

or riding a skateboard.

Flying Platforms, right?

They sound amazing, but nothing
ever works like it should.

The center of
gravity's really high,

so if you go too much in one
direction, you'll fall off.

Traditional aircraft
have some countermeasure,

something in place if
everything goes wrong.

The Flying Platform,

the best thing you
can if it goes awry

is to put your head
between your knees

and kiss your ass goodbye.

The military eventually
scraps the project

because it's too hazardous
for personal use,

and so civilians have to stick

with the safer alternative
of commuter traffic.

People have always
dreamt of different ways

to take flight,

and those small
personal flying devices

didn't get up in the air,

there was a time when we
made giants float above us.

The history
of rigid airships

is a story full of
excitement and adventure.

Today, when we
think of blimps,

we picture them floating
over sporting events.

But back in the day,

this was actually a sort
of elevated form of travel.

They're like a
vacation on their own,

and you've got private
state rooms, bars,

gourmet restaurants, and
you can't beat the view.

By 1914, blimp travel
was here to stay.

A German company had
done 1,500 flights,

they transported 10,000 people.

Airships are hailed
as the future of travel.

In New York City
buildings are designed

or modified to include
airship docking stations

high above the streets.

Can you imagine this?

You're flying through the air,

you literally hook up at the top

of the Empire State Building,

and that's where you get out,

and then you go down from there,

and you're just in the
middle of the city.

The idea of it is the
most incredible thing.

There's only one small
problem, the weather.

We had to contend
with fog, rain,

zero visibility, high winds,
thunderstorms, and sandstorms.

Airships are built

using a lightweight
metallic alloy frame.

The frame is then
covered by fabric.

They're not heavy, and
the bigger you make it,

the more sensitive
it is to wind.

Once you're up there
and bad weather hits,

there's not much you can do.

Before long, there's a series
of tragic airship crashes.

In 1928, there is
an Italian airship

that's returning from an
expedition to the North Pole.

It crashes, and eight
people on board die.

Six are never found.

In 1930, British airship
R101, on its maiden voyage,

crashes and kills 48 of
the 54 people on board.

And three years later,
the American USS Akron

crashes off the coast of New
Jersey and kills 73 people.

Despite these
accidents, in the 1930s,

passengers continue
to take hundreds

of transcontinental flights.

One airship charges
$450 per ticket,

more than $9,000
in today's money,

but that one airship is
about to change everything.

The world
had never seen an aircraft

as large as the
famous Hindenburg.

It was the proud possessor

of nine successful
transatlantic crossings.

The Hindenburg,

the biggest and most famous
of airships at the time.

Airships can use as a
means of generating lift,

either helium or hydrogen.

Helium is a safer way to go,

but helium is harder to
extract and harder to get.

It is, therefore,
more expensive.

Hydrogen is cheap and easy,

but it is very, very sensitive
to sparks, it's flammable.

And because of that, the
Hindenburg bursts into flames,

and the entire airship is
consumed in about 35 seconds.

Oh, it's...

The flame's climbing.

Oh, it's four or 500
feet into the sky,

and there's smoke, and
there's flames now,

and the frame is
crashing to the ground.

Oh, the humanity,

and all the passengers
screaming around here!

35 people are killed

and almost all the survivors

suffer from serious
burns and injuries.

It just goes to show you

how quickly things can
spiral out of control

when hydrogen ignites.

After the Hindenburg disaster,

it was pretty much the
end of travel by airship.

Who remembers a time
before seat belts,

when you were a kid bouncing
around in the backseat

without a care in the world?

No one thought it was dangerous.

In fact, quite the opposite.

In early automobiles
like the Ford Model T,

seat belts just don't exist

because they're not
considered necessary.

The number one reason

is when cars first
started being produced,

they weren't that fast.

So you think, "Oh, 20 miles
an hour, I'm gonna be fine.

I don't need a seat belt."

Some people worry that seat
belts are actually dangerous.

They're concerned
they can trap you

in a burning or sinking car.

It isn't until 1949 that
the Nash Motor Company

creates the first consumer
automobile safety belt,

but it's not like our
modern seat belts.

Think of it more as a lap belt

that you can tighten
around your waist.

So if you pitch
forward in an accident...

You can slam your
head on the dashboard,

slam your head on
the steering wheel.

So they're an improvement,
but they're not that safe.

The Nash Company installs
seat belts in 40,000 vehicles.

The buying public
does not want them.

They're so distasteful
to the public

that they actually ask their
dealers to cut them off.

Safety, at this time,
is not the priority.

What people want are
fun, interesting,

cool things in their cars,

like front seats that
convert into beds,

windshields you can pop out,

and steering wheels
with two turning dials.

For generations,

lack of seat belts made
for some crazy rides.

Before seat belt laws,

there were really
no restrictions

on how many people you
could put into a car.

I'm one of seven kids and the
people next door had 17 kids,

and their dad would
routinely pile us

into their station wagon
to go get ice cream.

We counted once,
we had 20 people

in his single station wagon
going to get ice cream.

Not a single seat belt

and a lot of kids
hanging out the back.

I'm only going a few miles.

Not me, I don't need them,
I never had an accident.

It's too bulky.

It messes up the clothes.

As recently as the '80s,

only 14% of Americans

are actually wearing
their seat belts.

Today, you have to
wear seat belts, right?

You don't have a choice.

Like, they're giving
you tickets for it.

Your car bleeps, and bleeps,

and screams at you
until you put on.

That's what it takes to get
people to put seat belts on.

You have to annoy them to it.

In 1982,

Michigan, home of
the US auto industry,

becomes one of the first states

to try and pass a
mandatory seat belt law.

The man behind it,
Congressman David Hollister,

faces intense backlash.

He gets flooded with
all kinds of hate mail,

people accusing him of being
a socialist, a communist,

and even comparing
him to Hitler.

Across the United States,

people take to the streets
to protest seat belts.

To persuade
people to buckle up,

the government gets help:

from a pair of dummies.

Even with air bags, Vince,

you still gotta remember
to buckle your safety belt.

Now you tell me.

You could
learn a lot from a dummy.

Buckle your safety belt.

And turns out, it worked.

The fun, accessible
nature of the dummies

helps ease that transition
into wearing a seat belt.

But you still remember
those carefree days

when you didn't have
to take such care.

Today, seat belt laws
are in every state,

except New Hampshire,

but seat belts
wouldn't have helped

when one company's quest to
make the hottest car on the road

flamed out.

In the 1950s and 1960s,

American cars
are all about style.

Classics like the Chevy
Bel Air, Corvette,

the Ford Mustang pack these
really powerful engines

into these just exquisite,
beautiful designs.

That's why these cars are
still collected today.

By the 1970s,
rising oil prices

and environmental considerations

forced companies to pivot
to more fuel-efficient cars.

And sadly, design
took a beating.

It kind of changed the
whole era of fast, sleek

to not a lot of horsepower,
not as much performance.

Stretch
out in an AMC Pacer,

the first wide small car.

Gone was the
huge chrome accents

and the big chrome bumpers,

and cars got a lot more
lightweight construction.

A little less flashy,
except for one.

In 1984, Pontiac
introduces the Fiero,

designed to be a practical
car that still turns heads.

The Fiero is a
two-seater mid-engine coupe.

Now, that's something America
has never tried before.

I mean, the Pontiac Fiero
is a good-looking car.

It's a tight little
package, man.

Pontiac was really
proud of the Fiero

and what they were doing.

In fact, Fiero in
Italian means proud.

I'm sold on it, all I
need is a dotted line.

The Fiero is chosen
as the official pace car

for the Indy 500,

and they even sponsor a
tour for Hall and Oats.

Pontiac has a smash
hit on their hands.

More than 100,000
are sold in its first year,

but soon, the car's
popularity goes up in smoke.

Reports of the Fiero catching
on fire begin to mount.

These things would go
down Highland Boulevard,

which is the main
strip on Staten Island,

and the engine would
burst into flames.

It seemed like
just a few at first,

but then Autoweek
said that they thought

it was a projected 20%
of the vehicles made.

In 1984, those Fieros
caught on fire.

That's a lot of cars.

It turns out,

in order to get the engine to
fit into a very small frame,

sacrifices have to be made.

Their bright idea was to go
down to three-quart oil pan,

instead of your typical four.

So, it's robbing
the engine of oil.

When the car runs low on oil,

the engine's connecting
rod can snap,

which punches a hole right
through the engine block.

This leads to oil leaking
out and catching fire.

Making matters worse,

the Fiero's plastic body
panels are extremely flammable,

so they create these
big intense flames.

You would think Pontiac
would rush to fix the problem.

No.

In fact, a PR person for
Pontiac blamed the drivers,

saying it is their
responsibility to check the oil.

But in the '70s and '80s,

it was not uncommon to find out
that a car had been recalled

or there were safety issues,

whether it was the Pacer,
whether it was the Gremlin,

cars were flipping, and turning,

and stopping, and braking,

and yes, I guess,
occasionally exploding.

Pontiac issues a sticker

that'll be put on
these vehicles.

The sticker says for people

to literally check their
oil every time they fill up.

Every time you fill up,
you have to check your oil?

I'm not sure I
want this vehicle.

Now, despite what
Autoweek said, all in all,

there's really only about 300
fires that were reported,

although it is 300 more fires
than should be happening,

that's for sure.

Eventually, with the
numerous complaints rolling in,

in 1987, more than
three years later,

they finally recall
the 1984 Fiero.

Despite fixing the
issues in later models,

the reputation is
forever damaged.

1988 was the last
year of production,

and they said it was because

there was increased
competition, whatever,

but I think ultimately,
it's 'cause people thought,

"These things are
gonna catch on fire."

The Fiero is still
remembered today

for its groundbreaking design,

even if it couldn't
handle the heat.

At the turn of
the 21st century,

Americans were sitting
in highway traffic,

jam-packed in subway cars

craving a better
way to get to work.

And one inventor got
the country buzzing

with a way to revolutionize
the urban commute.

Dean Kamen is
a college dropout

who is a dreamer with a
knack for engineering.

People say he is like
equal parts Thomas Edison

and Willy Wonka.

Kamen patents a
wheelchair called the iBOT.

It's a wheelchair that
can tackle any terrain,

including stairways.

Transportation over
various kinds of terrain

in an unusual motorized way is
something that captivates him.

And he wants to change
locomotion and transportation

as we know it.

When Kamen introduces his
new invention in December 2001,

the whole country is watching.

Segway hits the market,

no one's ever seen it before,
and it's highly anticipated.

The Segway is what's
technically called

a self-balancing scooter.

It has a gyro within it
that keeps it upright,

and any deviation in the
angle of the platform

is what designates to the
CPU how the Segway moves.

If I lean forward, I go fast;

and if I lean more
forward, I go faster;

and if I lean back,
I can slow down.

And it sort of had this
little steering thing.

When the Segway is introduced,

it feels like it's everywhere.

Everybody's riding them:

celebrities,
athletes, politicians.

Some people start
doing Segway tours,

where you could tour
around in a city

like New York or San Francisco.

And it became almost
a ubiquitous item

in the arsenal of
security companies

and police departments.

Time Magazine
runs a cover story

with the title
"Reinventing the Wheel."

They call it an
engineering marvel.

There's just one problem.

No one really is sure
how to ride a Segway.

I remember the first
time I saw a Segway,

and I thought, "Ooh, I
can't wait to ride that."

And then I rode a Segway and
I thought, "This is weird."

Riding a Segway is
incredibly unnerving

because our mobility systems

are not made for
this mobility device.

Your inner ear is constantly
giving you warnings

that you should not be
standing up right now,

yet the machine is
allowing you to.

People start buying
these for themselves

and they start
zipping around town.

So they're flying over sidewalks

or kind of hopping off curbs,

and that's when people
start getting hit by cars.

Very quickly, we see how
dangerous they actually are.

It's not just the
riders that are in danger,

it's the pedestrians
around the rider

because they would start
weaving in and out of people.

It's like a game of "Frogger."

You are a foot up in the air

and you're doing
15 miles an hour.

The chances of getting
hurt on a Segway

are actually far greater

than just being a
pedestrian hit by a car.

In 2003, things go the
wrong way for a Segway,

and they have to recall
6,000 individual units

because they are stopping
suddenly

and causing the riders to
fly over the handlebars.

It's exactly as
bad as it sounds.

You can be cruising
along at full speed,

and then all of a sudden,

you are catapulted
over the handlebars.

The recall
is only the beginning

of a string of damaging reports.

I think the accident
report heard around the world

was when George W. Bush
was riding a Segway

around the property
in Kennebunkport,

and he has an accident.

Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt,

the world's fastest
man at the time,

gets run over by a Segway

when a cameraman who's
trying to get pictures of him

runs him over.

The fastest man couldn't
outrun a Segway.

The Segway does
eventually become

kind of the butt of jokes.

I mean, it's made fun
of in "The Simpsons,"

"Arrested Development,"

and in the movie "Paul
Mall Cop."

Then something so ironic
happens it sounds unreal.

In 2010, British
millionaire Jimi Heselden,

who's just acquired
the Segway company

a couple months before,

is out walking his dog
and riding his Segway.

As a fellow dog
owner approaches,

in order to give
them some space,

he puts his Segway into reverse.

He proceeds to fall off
a 40-foot cliff and die.

Finally, in 2020, Segway
comes to the end of the road.

Ultimately, there is no demand,

and this thing that
was once hailed

as a transportation game-changer

only sells 140,000 units
in its entire shelf life.

The Segway's promise of
a revolution fell short,

becoming more of a
novelty than a necessity.

There was once a time when
the fastest boats on the water

were powered by
horses on treadmills.

That is until the steamboat
arrived on the scene,

and these ships packed
a lot more excitement

than you can imagine.

Steamboats are really a
part of American culture

in the 19th century.

They're mentioned in songs,
they're mentioned in plays,

Mark Twain references them.

This is seen as a hallmark
of modernizing America.

And even Walt Disney takes
as inspiration from steamboats

in creating the kind of beta
version of "Mickey Mouse."

"Steamboat Willie."

These boats are very fancy.

People can enjoy dining,
entertainment, gambling.

They're basically the
19th-century version

of the cruise ship.

Everybody loves to
look at a steamboat

go by on a river, right?

There's this romantic
vision of "Days Gone By."

But it's not all elegance
and beauty on the Mississippi.

What makes steamboats
such a game-changers

is the steam engine

that allows them to move
in multiple directions.

The heart of the
engine is the boiler

where the water gets
turned into steam,

which becomes the power
that that runs the ship.

On paper, it's a
technological marvel.

But along with the
power of the steam engine

comes a series of
violent boiler explosions

that they can't,
or won't, explain.

In general, there isn't
much regulatory apparatus

for anything.

This is a time

when there weren't a lot
of safety regulations

for things like travel.

Not to mention, for steamboat
manufacturers and operators,

they wanna make as
much money as possible,

so they are not
especially interested

in managing the safety of
their crew or their clients.

Boiler explosions occur

as a result of a
number of factors:

poor material, low water levels.

It can also be the result of
using river water in the boiler

because the river
water will be dirty,

and it might even
have debris in it

that will clog the system.

But something
changes in April of 1838

after a steamboat named Moselle

explodes on the Ohio
River near Cincinnati.

Witnesses on the scene

believe that the captain is
attempting to put on a good show

for an assembled crowd that
had come down to see Moselle.

The captain is also believed

to have been potentially
racing another steamboat,

so as he pulls away
from the shore,

he gives it the full juice.

And within seconds, 30
feet away from shore,

all four boilers
suddenly explode.

The entire boat is destroyed,
there's a lot of casualties.

Boiler debris and passengers

are scattered on both the Ohio

and the Kentucky
side of the river,

which are a mile apart
from one another.

Over 150 people are
killed in this disaster,

but out of tragedy comes change.

Later that year, Congress
finally passes a law

where they require
boiler inspection

and qualified inspectors.

But the new
regulations are hardly enforced.

Accidents keep happening,

and Americans still
can't get enough.

So, even when they
do know the risks,

they are lured in by the
luxury and the speed.

Steamboats
specifically had a period

where every third steamboat or
whatever was just exploding.

And that's fascinating to me

that people got on
the fifth steamboat.

Like, women, children,

men are getting shredded
by these boilers exploding.

The clock is
ticking on steamboats.

They just continue
to be really unsafe.

But it's not regulations

that actually moves us on
from the steamboat era.

It's innovation.

Railroads start to be the way

that more Americans
are traveling.

Looking back at the ways
we used to get around,

in noxious airplanes,

or in cars that would
spontaneously combust,

or even sending our
kids through the mail,

travel wasn't always
the most dependable,

but it was the freedom of
the open road, water, and sky

that made our hazardous history
such an exciting journey.