The Great Canadian Maple Syrup Heist

The Great Canadian Maple Syrup Heist

The Barrel That Wobbled In July of 2012, a man named Michel Gauvreau climbed a stack of barrels inside a giant warehouse in Quebec, Canada. His job was simple. Count the barrels. Make sure the numbers matched the records. The warehouse held maple syrup. Thousands and thousands of barrels of it. Each full barrel weighed about 620 pounds. That is heavier than a refrigerator. Much heavier. These barrels did not move. They just sat there, stacked high, full of sweet amber syrup worth a fortune. So when Gauvreau put his weight on one of the barrels, he expected it to be solid as a rock. Instead, it wobbled. He stopped. That was wrong. A full barrel of syrup does not wobble. He knocked on the side of it. Instead of a dull thud, he heard a hollow echo, like banging on an empty drum. He opened it up. The barrel was empty. He checked another one. Empty. He checked a third. This one was full, but not with syrup. It was full of water. Michel Gauvreau had just stumbled onto one of the strangest burglaries in history. Over many months, thieves had quietly drained millions of dollars worth of maple syrup from this warehouse, one barrel at a time, and almost nobody had noticed. Welcome to the Show You are listening to Wait, That Actually Happened?, the podcast where we prove history is stranger than fiction. I am your host, author Daniel P. Douglas, and today we are heading to Quebec for a crime that sounds made up but is completely real. This is the story of the Great Canadian Maple Syrup Heist. It has a secret reserve most people never knew existed. It has a gang of thieves with trucks and hoses. It has 18 million dollars worth of syrup vanishing into thin air. And yes, it really happened. So grab a stack of pancakes and settle in. Canada Has a Strategic Maple Syrup Reserve To understand this heist, you first need to know one wild fact. Canada has a strategic reserve of maple syrup. You have probably heard of the strategic oil reserve. Countries keep huge stores of oil tucked away in case of an emergency. Well, the province of Quebec does the same thing with maple syrup. Here is why. Quebec is the maple syrup capital of the world. The province makes about 70 percent of all the maple syrup on Earth. That is a giant chunk of a global business. So a group called the Federation of Quebec Maple Syrup Producers decided to take control of the whole thing. The Federation works almost like a club that every syrup farmer has to join. It sets the price of syrup. It tells farmers how much they are allowed to sell each year. Some people even called it a syrup cartel, like an oil cartel, but for breakfast food. Now, maple trees do not cooperate with this plan. Some years they make tons of syrup. Other years they barely make any. It all depends on the weather. So the Federation built a strategic reserve. In good years, they store the extra syrup. In bad years, they release it. This keeps the price steady and stops the market from going crazy. By 2011, they had so much extra syrup that they needed more space. So they rented a big red brick warehouse in a small town called Saint-Louis-de-Blandford. It sits right next to a highway, about two hours from Montreal. And here is the part that made the whole thing possible. That warehouse had almost no security. No cameras. No alarms. The syrup sat in plain white barrels that looked like every other barrel. And the barrels were only checked once a year. Picture it. A building stuffed with tens of millions of dollars worth of product. Barely a lock on the door. Checked once every twelve months. To a thief, that is not a warehouse. That is an invitation. The Slow and Sticky Crime The plan was simple, patient, and very sneaky. Some of the thieves were insiders. They knew the syrup business. They knew how the reserve worked. And they figured out something clever. If the syrup was only checked once a year, then they had a whole year to work without getting caught. So they rented space in a building right near the reserve. Then they got to work. At first, the plan went like this. They would load full barrels of syrup onto trucks. They would drive the barrels to a quiet sugar shack out in the country. A sugar shack is a small cabin where farmers usually boil sap into syrup. But this one was used for stealing. At the shack, they used hoses to siphon the syrup out of the barrels. Then they refilled the empty barrels with water and trucked them right back to the warehouse. From the outside, nothing looked different. A barrel full of water sat in the exact same spot as before. But this method took forever. Driving barrels back and forth, draining them, filling them with water, driving them back. It was slow. So the thieves got bolder. They started siphoning the syrup straight from the barrels right there in the reserve. Sometimes they did not even bother refilling them with water. They just left them empty and hoped nobody would notice. For months, this worked perfectly. The stolen syrup was loaded up and shipped out. The thieves sold it in small batches to buyers in other parts of Canada and in the United States. Most of those buyers had no idea they were buying stolen goods. To them, it was just a great deal on syrup. By the time it was over, the gang had drained close to 9,500 barrels. That added up to about 3,000 tons of maple syrup. The total value was around 18 million dollars. That is not a typo. Eighteen million dollars of breakfast syrup, gone. And then Michel Gauvreau climbed up to count the barrels, felt one wobble, and the whole sweet scheme came crashing down. Cracking the Sticky Case When the Federation realized what had happened, they called the provincial police, known as the Sûreté du Québec. This turned into the biggest investigation in that police force’s history. Officers interviewed more than 300 people. They got 40 search warrants. They chased the trail of stolen syrup across provinces and across the border into the United States. They even used a clever trick to track the syrup. Maple syrup glows a little under special light, and the glow is slightly different from batch to batch. It is almost like a fingerprint. Police used this to match stolen syrup to the reserve, even after it had been sold and moved around. Slowly, the case came together. The police figured out it was an inside job. The thieves had used their knowledge of the business to pull it off. In the end, police arrested 26 people. Four of them were convicted in court. The man called the ringleader was named Richard Vallières. He was found guilty of theft, fraud, and trafficking stolen goods. He got a sentence of about 8 years in prison. On top of that, the court hit him with a fine of around 9 million dollars. If he could not pay it, he would face even more time behind bars. His father, Raymond Vallières, was also convicted. So was a syrup dealer from New Brunswick named Étienne St-Pierre. And so was a man named Avik Caron, who was connected to the warehouse and who police say helped come up with the idea in the first place. But here is the part that makes this story so good. More than a dozen people are believed to have taken part in the heist. Truck drivers. Syrup dealers. Sugar shack workers. A whole team. And most of them were never caught. They simply slipped away and disappeared. Some of the stolen syrup was recovered. But thousands of barrels were never found. That syrup is long gone, probably eaten on pancakes and waffles by people who never knew the dark secret behind their breakfast. As for the reserve itself, the Federation learned its lesson. They built a brand new, high-tech storage center in another town. This one has cameras, alarms, and special codes to get inside. People started calling it the fortress of maple syrup. It only took a burglary to teach them that liquid gold needs a lock on the door. Guarding the Things You Forget Are Valuable The Maple Syrup Heist is a reminder of a funny truth. The world is full of valuable things hiding in plain sight, and we often forget to protect them. Most people never imagine that breakfast syrup could be worth millions. It does not look like gold or diamonds. It looks like, well, syrup. And that is exactly why the warehouse had no cameras. Nobody believed anyone would bother to steal it. But value is value. If something can be sold, someone will try to take it. History is full of thieves who went after strange treasures. Cheese has been stolen by the truckload. So have nuts, like almonds and pistachios. There have even been big thefts of laundry detergent, because it is easy to resell and hard to trace. We tend to guard the things that look expensive and ignore the things that quietly are. A warehouse of syrup. A field of avocados. A truck full of coffee beans. To a thief who has done the math, these are just money in a different shape. The lesson is simple. The most valuable thing in the room is not always the shiniest. Sometimes it is sitting in a plain white barrel, stacked to the ceiling, with nobody watching the door. Liquid Gold and the Ones Who Got Away So that is the Great Canadian Maple Syrup Heist. The time a gang of thieves quietly drained 18 million dollars worth of syrup from a secret reserve, one barrel at a time, until a curious auditor climbed the wrong stack and felt it wobble. A few of them went to prison. The reserve got a fortress. And somewhere out there, more than a dozen people got away clean, sitting on a fortune in stolen syrup that the police never found. It is proof that you do not need guns or fancy gadgets to pull off a giant sticky-up. Sometimes all you need is a truck, a hose, a lot of patience, and a warehouse that nobody thought to lock. So the next time you pour syrup on your pancakes, take a good look at it. That sweet amber liquid is worth more than you think. Just ask the people of Quebec, who learned the hard way that liquid gold needs guarding too. Be sure to check out my Substack, Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas, for more podcast series, written articles, and links to my books. Subscribe to never miss history’s weirdest moments. Until next time, remember: truth is stranger than fiction, and history is weirder than you think. Thanks for listening. Have a memorable day! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Podcast - The Pig War of 1859

A Pig Walks into a Potato Patch… On the morning of June 15th, 1859, an American farmer named Lyman Cutlar walked out of his cabin on San Juan Island. He saw a large black pig rooting around in his potato patch. Again. This pig had been eating his potatoes for weeks. Cutlar had chased it off. He had complained about it. He had asked the pig’s owner to control it. Nothing worked. The pig kept coming back for the potatoes. So Cutlar grabbed his rifle and shot the pig. That single shot almost started a war between the United States and the British Empire. Within weeks, 461 American soldiers and 2,140 British troops would face each other across the island. Five British warships would be anchored offshore. Cannons would be aimed. Orders would be shouted. All because of one hungry pig and some potatoes. Welcome to the Show You’re listening to, Wait! That Actually Happened?, the podcast where we prove history is stranger than fiction. I’m your host, author Daniel P. Douglas, and today we’re heading to the Pacific Northwest in 1859 for the weirdest war that almost happened. This is the story of the Pig War. A 12-year military standoff between two global superpowers over a single dead hog. It has warships. It has angry generals. It has a kaiser from Germany who had to come settle the whole mess. And it all started with some potatoes and a pig. How Two Countries Ended Up Sharing an Island First, let’s figure out where the heck we are. San Juan Island sits in the Pacific Northwest, tucked between the Washington mainland and Canada’s Vancouver Island. It’s part of an archipelago of over 400 islands and rocks known as the San Juan Islands. Only about 128 of them are named. Only 4 are big enough to get regular ferry service. The whole group sits in the Salish Sea, which is the shared name for the waters between Washington and British Columbia. Here’s where the geology starts making trouble. These islands are actually the tops of a sunken mountain range. About 17,000 years ago, during the last ice age, a massive glacier called the Vashon covered this whole area. The ice was 4,200 feet thick. As the glacier moved south, it scraped, carved, and gouged out the landscape like a giant bulldozer made of ice. When the glacier finally melted, it left behind deep canyons that filled with seawater. It left behind a scattered mess of mountain tops poking out of the waves. And it left behind not one, not two, but several different channels running through the islands. This is the geological headache at the heart of the Pig War. When Britain and the United States later tried to draw a border through “the middle of the channel,” they had a problem. The glacier had carved multiple channels. The two big ones were Haro Strait on the west side of the islands and Rosario Strait on the east side. Either one could reasonably be called the middle channel. There was even a third option running right between the islands themselves. Whichever channel got picked would decide who owned the islands. Pick Haro Strait? The Americans get them. Pick Rosario Strait? The British get them. Pick the middle option? Everybody gets confused and it goes to court. So when we say the Pig War started because of a pig, that’s only half true. It really started because of a glacier that carved a mess of channels 17,000 years too early and left two empires with an unsolvable geography problem. To understand why a dead pig almost triggered a war, we need to back up 13 years. In 1846, the United States and Great Britain signed the Oregon Treaty. This was supposed to settle a big argument about who owned the Pacific Northwest. Both countries had been arguing over the land for decades. The treaty drew a border along the 49th parallel. That’s the line you see today between Washington State and Canada. Simple enough, right? Well, no. The treaty said the border would run west along the 49th parallel, then drop south through the middle of the channel between the mainland and Vancouver Island. But as we just covered, the glaciers had left behind more than one channel to choose from. The treaty writers didn’t specify which one. They probably didn’t even realize the problem existed. Nobody could agree. So both countries just started acting like they owned the islands. By the 1850s, the British Hudson’s Bay Company had set up a large sheep farm on San Juan Island called Belle Vue Farm. They had thousands of sheep, plus pigs, cattle, and crops. An Irish man named Charles Griffin ran the whole operation. He let his pigs roam free across the island. Meanwhile, American settlers started showing up too. Most of them were failed gold miners. They were tired, broke, and looking for free land. One of them was a 27-year-old farmer from Kentucky named Lyman Cutlar. In April of 1859, Cutlar staked a claim to 160 acres on the island. He built a little cabin. He planted a potato patch. He did not build a fence around that patch. This would turn out to be a problem. The American settlers and British shepherds lived near each other but mostly ignored each other. Tensions were there, but things were quiet. Everyone was just waiting for their governments to figure out who owned the place. Then came the pig. The Shot Heard Round the Potato Patch Charles Griffin owned several Berkshire boars. These are big, black pigs with short snouts and an enthusiasm for eating whatever they can find. One of them had discovered Lyman Cutlar’s potato patch. And Berkshire boars do not forget a good meal. The pig kept coming back. Cutlar chased it off with sticks. He yelled at Griffin’s employees. He complained. Nothing changed. The pig kept eating his potatoes. On the morning of June 15th, 1859, Cutlar walked outside and saw the pig again. Standing in his garden. Rooting up his potatoes. And here’s the detail that really set him off. One of Griffin’s shepherds was nearby. Watching. Laughing. Cutlar snapped. He grabbed his rifle and shot the pig dead. Now, Cutlar was not trying to start a war. He immediately walked over to Griffin and admitted what he had done. He offered to pay for the pig. He offered 10 dollars. That’s about 360 dollars in today’s money. Fair price for a pig. Griffin was not interested in fair. He demanded 100 dollars. That’s 3,600 dollars today. For one pig. The two men argued. According to one popular story, Cutlar said, “It was eating my potatoes.” Griffin shot back, “It is up to you to keep your potatoes out of my pig.” Historians aren’t sure if that exact exchange happened, but it captures the spirit of the thing. Neither man was backing down. Griffin reported Cutlar to British authorities on Vancouver Island. The British threatened to arrest Cutlar and drag him to Victoria to stand trial. The American settlers on the island were furious. They weren’t about to let the British arrest one of their own. They drew up a petition and sent it to Brigadier General William S. Harney, the U.S. Army commander for the whole Oregon region. Now here’s an important detail. Harney really, really hated the British. Like, more than was professionally appropriate. He had been looking for a reason to stick it to them for years. When he got the petition, Harney did not consult Washington. He did not send a diplomat. He did not ask for instructions. He sent soldiers. On July 18th, 1859, Harney ordered Captain George Pickett to take 66 men and occupy San Juan Island. Yes, that Pickett. The same George Pickett who would later lead the disastrous Pickett’s Charge at Gettysburg in the Civil War. Before that, though, he was busy almost starting a different war. Pickett landed on San Juan Island on July 27th. He announced the island was American territory and that British law did not apply there. The British were stunned. The governor of Vancouver Island, James Douglas, was a tough old Hudson’s Bay Company man. He was not about to let the Americans just take the island. He ordered Royal Navy Captain Geoffrey Hornby to sail to San Juan and get rid of the Americans. Hornby showed up with three warships. He had enough firepower to blow Pickett’s tiny force to pieces. But Pickett said something that became famous. He reportedly told his men he would “make a Bunker Hill of it.” Meaning, he would fight to the last man if he had to. Whether he actually said this is debated, but the sentiment was real. The Americans were not leaving. Over the next few weeks, both sides sent more troops. The Americans built a camp on the south end of the island with 14 cannons. The British parked five warships offshore with 70 guns between them. By August 10th, there were 461 American soldiers facing 2,140 British sailors and marines. Everyone was waiting for someone to fire the first shot. Then a British admiral named Robert Baynes showed up. Baynes outranked Captain Hornby. Governor Douglas ordered Baynes to attack the Americans and remove them from the island. Baynes thought about it for a moment. Then he said no. Baynes reportedly told Douglas that he would not “involve two great nations in a war over a squabble about a pig.” He refused to attack. Instead, he told his ships to hold position and wait for orders from London. That was the turning point. By refusing to fire, Baynes gave diplomats time to catch up with the soldiers. Twelve Years of Staring at Each Other When news of the standoff reached Washington D.C., President James Buchanan was horrified. Nobody in his administration wanted a war with Britain over a pig. He sent General Winfield Scott, the commanding general of the entire U.S. Army, to fix the mess. Scott arrived in October 1859 and met with Governor Douglas. They worked out a deal. Both sides would keep small forces on the island. No more than 100 men each. They would jointly occupy the place until diplomats could sort out who actually owned it. That arrangement lasted 12 years. For over a decade, American soldiers camped on the south end of San Juan Island. British Royal Marines camped on the north end. They could see each other’s camps. They could hear each other’s bugles. And honestly? They got along pretty well. The two camps visited each other constantly. They held joint parties. They celebrated each other’s holidays. The British threw a big bash every year for the Queen’s birthday. The Americans showed up. The Americans threw parties for the Fourth of July. The British came. Officers on both sides became good friends. Nobody fired a single shot in anger the entire time. Then the American Civil War broke out in 1861. Washington had bigger problems than a pig dispute. The whole San Juan situation just sat on the back burner for years. Finally in 1871, the United States and Britain signed the Treaty of Washington. This dealt with several leftover disputes between the two countries. One of them was San Juan Island. Both sides agreed to let someone else decide who owned the place. They picked Kaiser Wilhelm I of Germany. Yes, Germany. A country on the other side of the world, with no stake in the fight, was asked to settle an argument about a Pacific Northwest island. The Kaiser set up a three-judge panel in Geneva, Switzerland. They studied the case for about a year. On October 21st, 1872, the panel ruled in favor of the United States. San Juan Island was American. The British Royal Marines packed up and left in November. The American soldiers stayed until 1874, then they packed up too. Both camps were sold off to homesteaders. So in the end, 13 years after Lyman Cutlar shot that pig, the United States got the island. The total human casualty count was zero. The final death toll of the Pig War was one pig. As for the financial cost? Multiple warships, hundreds of troops, 13 years of military pay, a cross-country trip by the top general of the U.S. Army, and a year-long international arbitration in Geneva, Switzerland. The total price tag of a war fought over a $10 pig has never been calculated. But it’s safe to say Cutlar’s original offer would have been a bargain. When Small Things Become Big Things The Pig War is a reminder of how fast small incidents can spiral out of control when nobody wants to back down. Think about it. A single farmer shot a single animal. That should have been the end of the story. Maybe a small claims court case. Some grumbling at the local tavern. Instead, it became a military standoff with troops, warships, and cannons. Why? Because once the soldiers arrived, everything changed. Nobody wanted to be the side that blinked first. National pride got involved. Politicians got involved. Generals with personal grudges got involved. Suddenly a pig was about the honor of two empires. We see this pattern all the time in modern conflicts. A drone gets shot down. A ship bumps into another ship. A spy balloon drifts across a border. In a rational world, these things get handled with phone calls. In the real world, they can escalate fast if the wrong people are in charge. The heroes of the Pig War were the people who refused to escalate. Admiral Baynes, who wouldn’t fire on the Americans. General Scott, who traveled across the country to negotiate a compromise. The three German judges who quietly studied maps for a year instead of picking a side. Sometimes the most important military decision is the one to not shoot. And sometimes the most heroic act is just saying, “This is dumb. Let’s go home.” What If It Happened Today? Picture this happening in 2026. An American homesteader shoots a Canadian pig on a disputed island. Within ten minutes, it’s all over TikTok. Someone films the dead pig and adds sad violin music. The video gets 40 million views. Cable news jumps on it. One network calls it “PIGGATE.” Another goes with “THE BACON INCIDENT.” A third somehow blames it on inflation. The farmer gets a podcast deal before lunch. Congress holds emergency hearings. Someone proposes a bill called the PIG Act, which somehow stands for “Protecting Important Gardens.” It’s 800 pages long and has nothing to do with gardens. Canada issues a strongly worded statement. Then another strongly worded statement. Then they release a very polite YouTube video explaining why they are disappointed. The Pentagon deploys troops. The Canadians deploy Mounties. Both forces spend most of their time arguing about whose hockey team is better. Conspiracy theories bloom. The pig was a deep state operative. The potatoes were genetically modified. The whole thing was staged by Big Fence. One Pig, Two Empires, Zero Casualties So that’s the Pig War of 1859. The time a hungry pig almost started a real shooting war between the United States and the British Empire. Two countries sent troops to a small island because one farmer got tired of a pig eating his potatoes. The pig lost. Everybody else won, mostly because the smartest people in the room refused to fight over something so stupid. The island is now a U.S. National Historical Park. You can visit both the American and British camps. The British Union Jack still flies over the old English Camp every day. It’s the only place in the entire U.S. National Park system where a foreign flag is regularly raised. The flag and the flagpole were gifts from Britain. Because in the end, the two sides figured out they liked each other just fine. Be sure to check out my Substack, Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas, for more podcast series, written articles, and links to my books. Subscribe to never miss history’s weirdest moments. Until next time, remember: truth is stranger than fiction, and history is weirder than you think. Thanks for listening. Have a memorable day! Thanks for listening to Wait, That Actually Happened? This podcast is public so feel free to share it. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Podcast - The Football War of 1969

In June 1969, El Salvador and Honduras played three World Cup qualifying matches that spiraled into riots, a national martyr, and ultimately a real shooting war. The underlying causes were decades of tension over immigration, land reform, and poverty, but the soccer matches lit the fuse. After fans on both sides attacked visiting teams, burned flags, and killed spectators, El Salvador invaded Honduras on July 14th with World War II-era planes and tanks. The “100 Hour War” killed thousands, displaced up to 300,000 people, and featured the last propeller-plane dogfights in military history. The Football War proved that sports rivalries can mask deeper conflicts, and that when politicians use nationalism as a weapon, everyone loses. This is an episode of “Wait, That Actually Happened?” a podcast exploring history’s most unbelievable true stories. Be sure to check out my Substack (Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com/]) for more podcast episodes, written articles with full sources, and links to my books. Thanks for listening! Subscribe to never miss history’s weirdest moments. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Podcast - The Cadaver Synod

In January 897, Pope Stephen VI ordered the corpse of his predecessor Pope Formosus dug up from its tomb, dressed in papal robes, and propped up on a throne to stand trial for crimes including “coveting the papacy” and illegally switching dioceses. The decomposing body was assigned a teenage deacon as its defense attorney while Stephen screamed accusations at it, and the inevitable guilty verdict resulted in the corpse having its three blessing fingers cut off before being thrown into the Tiber River. The macabre spectacle backfired spectacularly when the body was recovered (reportedly performing miracles), an earthquake damaged the very basilica where the trial was held, and Stephen himself was deposed and strangled in prison within months. The so-called “Cadaver Synod” remains one of history’s most bizarre examples of political revenge, proving that medieval church politics made modern cancel culture look like amateur hour. Thanks for listening to Wait! That Actually Happened? from Author Daniel P. Douglas. This podcast is public, so feel free to share it! Subscribe to never miss history’s weirdest moments. Until then, remember: truth is stranger than fiction, and history is weirder than you think. Be sure to check out my Substack (Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com/]) for other podcasts, written articles, and links to my books. Thanks for listening. Have a memorable day! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Podcast - The Caga Tió

Since the 1600s, families in Catalonia, Spain have gathered around a small wooden log with a painted smiley face and a red hat every Christmas Eve. They’ve spent the past two weeks “feeding” it scraps of food to fatten it up. Now comes the big moment: the children grab sticks and beat the log while singing songs demanding it poop out presents. When they lift the blanket covering the log, candy and small gifts have magically appeared underneath. This is Caga Tió, the “pooping log,” a tradition that evolved from ancient pagan winter solstice rituals into a beloved holiday custom that’s now over 400 years old. The ritual continues until the log “poops” out something gross like a head of garlic or a herring, signaling it’s empty. And yes, this is the same culture that has hidden a figurine of a pooping man in every nativity scene since the 1700s, because Catalonia committed fully to bathroom-themed holiday cheer centuries ago. Thanks for listening to Wait! That Actually Happened? from Author Daniel P. Douglas. This podcast is public, so feel free to share it! Subscribe to never miss history’s weirdest moments. Until then, remember: truth is stranger than fiction, and history is weirder than you think. Be sure to check out my Substack (Intelligence Bulletin from Author Daniel P. Douglas [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com/]) for other podcast series, written articles, and links to my books. Thanks for listening. Have a memorable day! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit authordanielpdouglas.substack.com [https://authordanielpdouglas.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]