He was the first man in U.S. history to hijack a plane for ransom.
He boarded a commercial jet under a fake name, carrying a briefcase full of wires—and a daring demand.
Then he vanished into the night.

For more than 50 years, DB Cooper haunted American law enforcement.
No body. No parachute. No identity.
Just a legend.

Until now.

Who was DB Cooper?
How did he get away with one of the boldest crimes in history?
And why are investigators convinced the truth was hiding in plain sight all along?

This is the story of DB Cooper—and the man many now believe he really was.

Thanksgiving Eve, 1971

It was the day before Thanksgiving. Airports were packed, families were rushing home, and Flight 305—Northwest Orient Airlines—was preparing for a routine 30-minute hop from Portland to Seattle.

Nothing unusual.
Nothing suspicious.

Except for one man in row 18.

He wore a dark suit, a clip-on tie, and sunglasses. Calm. Polite. Unremarkable.
He gave his name as Dan Cooper.

Halfway through the flight, he handed a note to a flight attendant. She assumed it was a phone number and slipped it into her pocket.

Then he leaned in and whispered:

“Miss, you’d better read that note. I have a bomb.”

Inside the briefcase were what appeared to be sticks of dynamite wired to a battery.

Cooper’s demands were precise:

$200,000 in $20 bills

Four parachutes

A fuel truck waiting in Seattle

If his demands weren’t met, he said the plane would be destroyed.

The pilot alerted air traffic control. Within minutes, the FBI was involved.

The Jump

When Flight 305 landed in Seattle, the passengers were released unharmed—most unaware they’d just become part of history.

The money was delivered.
The parachutes were handed over.

With only a skeleton crew on board, the plane took off again, heading south.

Then, somewhere over the stormy forests of Washington State, Cooper did the unthinkable.

At roughly 8:00 p.m., in heavy rain and violent winds, he lowered the rear stairway of the Boeing 727…
and jumped.

10,000 feet into darkness.

He left behind only one thing: his clip-on tie.

By the time the plane landed in Reno, DB Cooper was gone.

A Ghost the FBI Couldn’t Catch

The FBI launched one of the largest manhunts in U.S. history.

Hundreds of agents.
Helicopters.
Paratroopers.
Bloodhounds.

Nothing.

No parachute.
No body.
Not even a footprint.

And then came a mistake that would cement the legend forever.

The media misreported his name.

Dan Cooper became DB Cooper—and the name stuck.

Over 1,000 suspects were investigated.
Deathbed confessions went nowhere.
Handwriting samples failed.
DNA led to dead ends.

For years, there was nothing.

Until a boy went camping.

The Only Physical Evidence

In 1980, an eight-year-old boy digging along the Columbia River found something strange buried in the sand.

Three bundles of $20 bills.
Weathered. Rotten. Still bound with rubber bands.

The serial numbers matched the ransom money.

It was the only confirmed physical evidence Cooper ever left behind.

Did he die in the jump?
Or did he leave the money as a taunt?

The FBI never found out.

In 2016, after 45 years, the bureau officially closed the case.

DB Cooper was declared unsolved.

Or so they thought.

The Investigator Who Wouldn’t Let It Go

While the FBI moved on, one man didn’t.

Dan Gryder, a retired commercial airline captain with over 24,000 flight hours, became obsessed with the case.

Not for fame.
Not for clicks.

He studied flight data, wind patterns, parachute models, and FBI files most people had never seen.
He recreated jump scenarios and tracked terrain no agent had ever walked.

And in 2023—more than 50 years later—he found something chilling.

A parachute.

A Name That Wouldn’t Go Away

The parachute was discovered in a dusty Utah storage unit connected to the family of Richard Floyd McCoy Jr.

McCoy was no stranger to investigators.

Just five months after the Cooper hijacking, he pulled off an almost identical crime:

Same type of plane

Same rear-stair jump

Same calm demeanor

Same demands—only for more money

This time, he was caught.

McCoy was a Vietnam veteran, helicopter pilot, skydiving instructor, devoted Mormon, husband, and father.
On paper, he looked nothing like a criminal.

But the similarities were impossible to ignore.

The parachute Gryder found matched exactly the unusual modifications described in the FBI’s 1971 Cooper files.

This wasn’t coincidence.

The Family Secret

When Gryder contacted McCoy’s children, they refused to speak.

Not out of anger.
Out of protection.

Then, after years of silence—and after their mother passed away—they finally agreed to talk.

What they said stunned the internet.

“We never wanted to believe it… but the more we looked at everything, it was all there.
He was Cooper.”

They had always known.

The parachute had been hidden deliberately.
Not lost.
Not forgotten.

Protected.

The FBI Returns

Gryder’s findings went viral.

The FBI stepped back in.

The parachute was sent to Quantico.
The infamous tie Cooper left behind was reexamined.
DNA testing was discussed.

After 54 years, the case was alive again.

While official confirmation remains sealed, the weight of the evidence—and the family’s confession—changed everything.

The Man Behind the Legend

DB Cooper wasn’t a ghost.

He was a man.

A decorated soldier.
A father.
A husband.
A risk-taker chasing control in a chaotic world.

The hijacking wasn’t perfect.
It was reckless, bold, and dangerous.

But it captured the imagination of an entire nation.

And now, the legend has a name:

Richard Floyd McCoy Jr.

The mystery may be solved—but its echo will never fade.

Because even when we know who he was…
we’ll always wonder what else he got away with.