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A hero's epic rise and damning fall...
He would regret this decision for the rest of his life.
...A courageous canine that prowls the front lines...
She was alerting the troops that there's something out there.
...And a gambling table imbued with a sinister curse.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: He drew his gun
and shot himself in the head.
I'm Don Wildman.
Join me on a journey across the United States
as we go deep into the vaults
of the nation's most revered institutions,
unearthing wondrous treasures from the past,
extraordinary artifacts, and bizarre relics,
each with a shocking story to tell
and a secret to be revealed.
These are the mysteries at the museum.
-- Captions by VITAC --
Closed Captions provided by Scripps Networks, LLC.
A half-hour from downtown Los Angeles
sits the sprawling suburb of Santa Clarita
whose history runs as deep as its canyons.
These golden hills formed a backdrop
for some of the earliest Hollywood Westerns.
And now the Santa Clarita Valley Historical Society,
housed in a 19th-century train station,
proudly preserves this region's traditions.
Among the Western riding gear, wagon wheels,
and Native American ceramics, there is one relic that,
according to director Alan Pollack,
stands apart from the rest.
It is a chunk of cement about 2 feet by 1 foot in diameter
with rusted nails in it and, also, sand mixed with it.
It's about the size of a beach ball.
WILDMAN: This rough-hewn heavy block played a critical role
in one of the deadliest man-made catastrophes
in American history.
What was this historic disaster,
and what classic movie did it inspire?
1908.
Turn-of-the-century Los Angeles is bursting at the seams,
its population tripling in just 10 years.
But this desert city can't continue to grow
without a new source of water.
And the brash Superintendent of Water Works, William Mulholland,
thinks he has the perfect solution.
POLLACK: William Mulholland was an Irish immigrant.
He was an ambitious, brilliant man.
He had no formal education
but taught himself engineering and geology.
WILDMAN: To solve the city's water shortage,
Mulholland devises a bold plan
to transport water through a system of aqueducts
from lakes and rivers in the Owens Valley,
a rich agricultural region north of Los Angeles.
To accomplish the feat, city planners deceptively pose
as cattle ranchers and buy up thousands of acres of land
from unsuspecting local farmers.
And soon, the construction of the aqueduct begins.
POLLACK: Mulholland used 3,900 workers to complete the task,
and they had to dig 164 tunnels through the mountains
between the Mojave Desert and Los Angeles.
WILDMAN: And in 1913, after 5 years of construction,
the waterway connecting Los Angeles to the Owens Valley
is completed.
The achievement represents the pinnacle of Mulholland's career.
But not everybody liked Mulholland.
WILDMAN: Farmers and ranchers in the area
watch as their crops dry up and their land turns fallow.
POLLACK: The people of the Owens Valley never forgot
how their water was taken, and they reviled the man.
WILDMAN: And soon, they take action.
In May 1924, a clandestine group of local farmers
destroys a section of the aqueduct with dynamite,
setting off a series of disruptive attacks
that becomes known as the California Water Wars.
But Mulholland is determined
to protect the city's access to its precious waters.
POLLACK: Because of the sabotage of the aqueduct,
Mulholland decided to build a series of reservoirs
closer to the city of Los Angeles to maintain
about a year's supply of water in the event of a problem.
WILDMAN: And the centerpiece of the project
is the St. Francis Dam, a massive concrete structure
located just miles from the city.
After two years, construction is complete,
and the reservoir is filled
with 12 million gallons of water from the aqueduct.
But on the morning of March 12, 1928,
something is wrong.
The dam keeper, who lived just below the dam,
noticed muddy water flowing out
of the foundation of the western abutment of the dam.
WILDMAN: William Mulholland receives a frantic phone call
and calmly arrives later in the morning
to inspect the structure.
POLLACK: He came to the conclusion
that the water leakage from the dam was normal
and decided to go back home.
He would regret this decision for the rest of his life.
WILDMAN: At three minutes before midnight,
just hours after Mulholland inspected the site,
the colossal dam suddenly gives way.
POLLACK: A huge wall of water 10 stories high
escaped from the dam into the valley below.
It took with it homes, roads, bridges.
It created a massive path of destruction
on its way to the Pacific Ocean.
WILDMAN: When Superintendent Mulholland receives the news,
he is devastated.
POLLACK: His first thought was,
"Please, God, don't let anybody be killed."
WILDMAN: Rescuers sift through the wreckage,
like this chunk of the dam now on display
at the Santa Clarita Valley Historical Society,
and they are shocked by the unimaginable loss of life.
Nearly 600 people have been killed in the disaster.
In the wake of the tragedy,
authorities are determined to find out
if the collapse of the dam was an engineering failure
or the result of a deliberate act of sabotage.
POLLACK: Mulholland himself was suspicious
that the angry people in the Owens Valley
may have sabotaged or dynamited the dam.
WILDMAN: But when experts investigate the site,
they discover the dam may have been doomed
before it was even built.
POLLACK: Turned out that the location of the dam
was the true culprit in the disaster.
WILDMAN: The structure was built on bedrock,
destabilized by an ancient landslide
thousands of years ago.
And under the massive force of 12 million gallons of water,
the mountainside once again gave way.
But sadly, William Mulholland's insatiable ambition
may also have played a critical role.
POLLACK: In order to increase the water capacity of the dam,
Mulholland had decided to raise the height of the dam by 20 feet
but failed to widen the base of the dam
in order to compensate for that.
WILDMAN: Following an inquest,
Mulholland is cleared of any criminal responsibility,
but his meteoric career is over.
POLLACK: The man who had been such a hero to the city of Los Angeles
spent the rest of his life as a broken man
until his death in 1935.
WILDMAN: But the legacy of William Mulholland lives on.
The tragic tale of the waterman's downfall
becomes the inspiration
for Roman Polanski's 1974 blockbuster "Chinatown."
And today, at the Santa Clarita Valley Historical Society,
this raw chunk of cement serves as a tangible reminder
of one man's ambition,
which led him from triumphant heights
to the depths of disgrace and ruin.
In the City of Brotherly Love, just steps
from Independence Hall and the famed Liberty Bell,
stands the Philadelphia History Museum.
From George Washington's desk to Benjamin Franklin's drinking cup
and the boxing gloves worn by legendary local Joe Frazier,
this vast repository of relics screams hometown pride.
But among these artifacts of iconic heroes stands an object
whose heroic actions have been largely forgotten.
CROCE: It's a small mixed-breed dog.
It's about 18 inches high
and maybe about 20 inches from snout to hind quarters...
brown coat with a lovely, little blue blanket
that has some various insignia on it.
She doesn't look particularly extraordinary.
WILDMAN: But museum Executive Director Charles Croce
knows that this cute canine displayed unparalleled bravery
during one of the world's most violent conflicts.
Who is this dog?
And what surprising role did she play in the first World War?
Fall 1917.
American soldiers at Camp Meade Army Base in Maryland
are preparing to enter
the greatest conflict the world has ever known -- World War I.
Among them is Private Johnny Evans
of the 315th Infantry.
One day, the soldier presents his commanding officer
with something he hopes will earn his superior's favor --
an 8-week-old stray dog.
Think about the fact that you're training to go to war.
Here's a puppy.
Obviously, it's something that
everybody really could rally around.
WILDMAN: Not only does the mixed-breed pup charm the captain,
but she soon becomes the beloved mascot
of the entire 315th Infantry.
And the soldiers come up
with the perfect name for their new mutt.
CROCE: The unit named her Philly the Dog
because all of the enlisted men in that particular unit
were from Philadelphia.
WILDMAN: After months of training,
the men of the 315th prepare to ship out
to the bloody battlefields of Europe.
But for Philly's guardians, there's a problem.
Pet dogs are not allowed on the front line.
These young troops really couldn't bear
to leave this young puppy behind.
WILDMAN: So the soldiers attempt to smuggle
the small Philly onboard their ship.
And to their relief, the plan works.
Philly was en route to France.
WILDMAN: September 1918, Northern France.
Now on the front lines,
Philly quickly acclimates to the sights and sounds of war.
[ Explosions, gunshots ]
And as the battles rage,
she is a source of great comfort to her troops.
But no one is prepared for what is about to happen
one fall predawn morning.
CROCE: It is still dark,
the Fighting Philadelphians are in their trenches.
They're trying to catch a few hours of sleep
before the dawn would break.
WILDMAN: The exhausted men are unaware of a creeping threat --
a group of German soldiers slowly making their way
toward the American trenches to launch a surprise attack.
Will Philly and the sleeping soldiers
survive the sneak assault?
It's September 1918, on the battlefields of France.
As night rolls in, the U.S. Army's 315th Infantry,
along with their courageous mutt, Philly,
settles in for some rest.
But as the men drift off to sleep,
a group of stealthy German soldiers prepares to attack.
Will the 315th make it through the night alive?
As the Germans inch closer, suddenly...
Philly begins to stir.
This was a dog who could sense things.
She was aware that there was some movement
and starts alerting the troops
that there's something out there.
[ Barking ]
WILDMAN: The men of the 315th rise
to the trusted mascot's call to arms
and launch a fearsome counter-attack.
[ Explosions, gunshots ]
When the smoke settles, the Germans have retreated,
and the courageous canine is credited
with saving countless lives.
CROCE: Philly really turned into
a very important set of eyes and ears for those soldiers --
with extrasensory perception.
WILDMAN: But as the tale of Philly's heroics spread,
she becomes a target of the enemy.
The Germans were so annoyed
by the fact that they had to retreat
that there was a reward of 50 deutsche marks --
which was a lot at the time -- put on the dog's head.
WILDMAN: But Philly escapes the German cross hairs
once and for all
when armistice is declared on November 11, 1918.
Gleefully, the pup returns to Camp Meade
with her surviving band of brothers.
And the 315th Infantry award the canine
with the rank of Private along with a very distinct honor.
The unit itself created
a Purple Heart Award for valor under enemy fire.
WILDMAN: After a remarkably full life,
Philly passes away in 1932 at the age of 15.
And with her passing, the men of the 315th
unveil a plan to commemorate the battle-tested hero.
CROCE: Money was raised to have Philly brought to a taxidermist
so she could be there as a mascot for the unit.
WILDMAN: She fills this role until the unit disbands in 1995.
And now the dog hero rests in peace
at the Philadelphia History Museum,
adored by visitors of all ages,
a testament to the valor and service
of man's best friend.
Surrounded by a shimmering desert landscape
and tourist attractions like the nearby Hoover Dam,
Las Vegas is home to The Mob Museum,
where the dark underworld of the American Mafia
is on full display.
The museum's exhibits include
Bugsy Siegel's monogrammed rings,
a piece of the wall from the site
of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre,
and a replica of the iconic tommy gun.
And surrounded by these notorious artifacts
sits an object that appears rather ordinary,
at least by 1950's standards.
It's not hard, not soft, comfortable enough
for you to sit in and get a shave and a haircut.
It doesn't look all that special.
WILDMAN: But as historian Michael Green can attest,
this barber's chair was at the center
of one of the most sensational assassinations in Mafia lore.
Here's the spot where some
really important and terrible history was made.
WILDMAN: So, what awful fate befell the last occupant of this chair?
And how did the headline-grabbing event
transform cinema history?
Spring 1931, New York.
In the midst of prohibition,
two rival gangs are locked in a deadly feud
for control of the illicit and lucrative liquor trade.
One soldier in this bloody war
is hotheaded thug Albert Anastasia.
Anastasia, early on, establishes himself
as someone who will do what needs to be done.
WILDMAN: His vicious temper and ruthlessness
attracts the attention of Charles "Lucky" Luciano,
a high-ranking Mafioso
who's looking to enhance his influence.
Lucky Luciano is trying to get in there
and take over the whole mob.
Now, Luciano has got to knock off
a couple of big bosses to do that.
WILDMAN: Luciano's targets include
not just the head of a rival gang,
but also his own boss, Joe Masseria.
And he wants the cold-blooded Anastasia to help him.
Without hesitation,
the up-and-coming gangster agrees to the scheme.
April 15, 1931.
Luciano invites Joe Masseria to lunch
at an Italian restaurant in Coney Island.
Luciano had to go to the bathroom.
He got up and left.
And then four guys came in.
WILDMAN: They let loose a hail of gunfire.
[ Gunshots ]
And by the time Luciano returns to the table, Masseria is dead.
Believed to have been one of the executioners,
Anastasia has now helped secure Luciano's rise to power.
That took Luciano up the ladder in the mob,
and he took Albert Anastasia with him.
WILDMAN: And soon, to keep rival factions
and business associates in line,
Luciano hands Anastasia the top job of enforcer of *** Inc.
*** Inc. was the enforcement arm for the syndicate --
essentially in charge of killing whoever needs killing.
And in the 1930s, they did it, and they did it very well.
WILDMAN: The cold-blooded Anastasia thrives in the role,
and soon earns a powerful moniker.
One nickname is "The Mad Hatter" because he's crazy.
He will kill anybody he feels like killing.
WILDMAN: Over the next 25 years,
it's said that Anastasia's *** Inc.
is responsible for some 700 murders.
But by 1957, Anastasia's ruthlessness
is starting to rattle some of his fellow mobsters.
Although no one has been inclined to tangle
with the mob's most-feared killer yet,
that's all about to change.
It's 1957. New York City.
Italian immigrant Albert Anastasia is the leader
of the mob's enforcement arm known as *** Inc.,
an institution he rules with an iron fist.
But what Anastasia doesn't realize
is that his reign of terror
is about to come to a blood-curdling end.
October 25th, just after 10:00 a.m.,
midtown Manhattan.
Anastasia is visiting
the Grasso Barber Shop in the Park Sheraton Hotel
where he settles in to this barber's chair
for his regular cut and shave.
But as the gangster relaxes under a hot towel,
two masked men enter the shop,
train their weapons on the defenseless Anastasia,
and fire.
After five shots, he went down.
The final shot was to the back of his head.
WILDMAN: The once-invincible leader of *** Inc. is dead.
In the wake of the audacious public hit,
the NYPD immediately launches an investigation.
The police put, supposedly, up to a hundred detectives on this.
I mean, this is a big deal.
WILDMAN: But if anyone observed this brutal gangland execution,
they're not talking.
GREEN: You have to think the witnesses realize
this is not the kind of *** you want to witness.
WILDMAN: And soon, the investigation stalls.
The NYPD did its best, but, to this day, it's unsolved.
WILDMAN: But while Albert Anastasia's reign comes to a vicious end,
his brutal and bloody legacy lives on.
Over a decade later,
a struggling middle-aged author named Mario Puzo
pens what will be his greatest work, "The Godfather."
He bases the novel -- and later the movies --
on research of real-life mobsters like Anastasia.
The hot-tempered mobsters, Sonny Corleone --
James Caan's character -- the Moe Greene character --
The guys willing just to kill
because they're emotional and they're angry.
You can see some Albert Anastasia in those guys.
WILDMAN: The public assassination of Anastasia
is also believed to have inspired
the legendary film's final *** sequence,
where rival mob bosses
are brutally executed in broad daylight.
Today, the site of Albert Anastasia's execution,
since cleaned of blood and bullet holes,
sits on display at The Mob Museum,
a reminder of the legendary gangster
and his lasting impact on American cinema.
Nestled in the foothills of Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains
is the charming town of Culpeper,
home to the Library of Congress'
Packard Campus for Audio-Visual Conservation.
Here the largest collection of movie, television,
and sound items in the country line over 90 miles of shelves.
And among the mountainous stacks
are two spools of 16-millimeter celluloid
that have left a lasting impression
on Moving Image Department Director, Mike Mashon.
MASHON: They're each about 800 feet long
representing roughly 30 minutes of running time
of a show from December 5, 1956.
WILDMAN: Together, these reels comprise
one of TVs most notorious episodes,
one infused with real-life deception, bribery, and revenge.
So, what infamous show was recorded on these reels?
And how did it change television programming forever?
It's 1956.
TV has replaced radio
as the entertainment staple of America,
and topping the ratings charts are a host of new programs
in a compelling new format -- quiz shows.
On Wednesday, September 10th,
NBC debuts their latest offering,
a program called "Twenty-One."
MASHON: "Twenty-One" was a game of skill.
You get two contestants, and they're asked
some relatively difficult trivia questions.
WILDMAN: The show is the brainchild of Dan Enright,
one of the most successful producers in the industry.
But his latest production has a rocky premiere.
The first show, by all accounts, was a disaster.
The initial contestants couldn't answer most of the questions.
WILDMAN: And with "Twenty-One" facing cancellation,
Enright must come up with an idea to right the sinking ship.
MASHON: Enright said, "We got to build up the drama in the show.
We can't rely on it to happen naturally."
WILDMAN: Enright determines that the most effective way
to heighten the drama is to give the contestants
the answers to each question in advance,
instructing them exactly when to provide the correct response
and when to lose.
But Enright's clandestine machinations
will also prove to be his downfall.
On October 17th, Enright brings on a nebbishy college student
named Herb Stempel for his first appearance on "Twenty-One."
Stempel is carefully groomed
to garner sympathy from the television audience.
He wore very thick glasses. He looked like a nerd.
And that's what they wanted him to look like -- a brainiac.
WILDMAN: Enright sets Stempel on a 6-week winning streak,
and "Twenty-One's" ratings soar
as the manufactured drama captivates American households.
But by the end of November,
viewers begin to tire of the bookish contestant.
So on November 28th,
Enright pits the champion against a new opponent,
a handsome professor named Charles Van Doren.
MASHON: He was tall, had matinee-idol good looks,
very well spoken, very charming man.
Audiences took to Van Doren immediately.
WILDMAN: Van Doren and Stempel play
to a series of carefully engineered ties
over four episodes, ensuring the return of viewers
eager for a resolution to this nail-biting drama.
Finally, Enright decides to end their epic battle
and instructs Stempel to lose on the December 5th show.
But one day before his final scheduled appearance,
Herb Stempel pays a visit to Enright's office
and makes a strange request.
Stempel offers to refund a portion of his winnings
if he is allowed to play honestly.
But Enright refuses, telling the contestant
that he must cede the championship.
At 10:30 p.m. on December 5th,
15 million Americans tune in to the latest face-off.
Five questions into the program, Stempel leads 16-0
and prepares to take the next question, worth $100,000.
MAN: What motion picture won the Academy Award for 1955?
MASHON: Stempel knew this.
It was a film called "Marty" with Ernest Borgnine.
WILDMAN: But Dan Enright has given Stempel a strict order
to throw the game.
So, what will Stempel do?
It's December 5, 1956.
On the popular quiz show "Twenty-One,"
a contestant named Herb Stempel
has just been asked a question worth $100,000.
But what viewers don't realize is that he's been instructed
by the show's producer, Dan Enright,
to throw the game even though he knows the correct answer.
So, what will Stempel do?
Before a captivated audience of 15 million,
Stempel gives his answer.
MAN: No, I'm sorry, the answer is "Marty."
"Marty."
WILDMAN: This incorrect answer, captured on these reels,
now archived at the Library of Congress,
seals Stempel's fate.
As planned, Charles Van Doren unseats the champion
and embarks on his own winning streak.
Van Doren stayed on "Twenty-One" for another four months
and wound up winning $128,000 --
by far, the largest amount of money
anybody had ever won on a game show to that point.
WILDMAN: As Van Doren's star rises,
Herb Stempel sinks into obscurity.
MASHON: Herb Stempel was bitter,
especially as he saw Van Doren become such a celebrity.
That really began to stick in Stempel's craw.
WILDMAN: In August of 1958,
Herb Stempel takes his full account
of "Twenty-One's" show fixing to the press,
launching the first major scandal of the television age,
and NBC yanks "Twenty-One" from the airwaves.
In the wake of the fiasco, Congress passes regulations
outlawing the fixing of televised quiz shows,
and the controversy has a chilling effect
on the once-popular form of entertainment.
It essentially drove game shows off the air for quite some time.
WILDMAN: And today at the Library of Congress'
Packard Campus for Audio-Visual Conservation,
these two film reels
preserve images and sound of the infamous show
that brought an end to television's innocence.
Just outside the entertainment
and gambling capital of the world
is a museum dedicated to the history of Las Vegas --
the Clark County Museum.
Displayed here are showgirl headdresses,
an original wedding chapel from the Strip,
and a retro penny slot machine.
But according to museum director Mark Hall-Patton,
there's one set of objects in these galleries
with a heartbreaking connection
to the bright lights of Sin City.
HALL-PATTON: The artifacts that we have here
are two pieces of aluminum.
They're twisted, bent,
and obviously have been through some kind of tremendous force.
WILDMAN: These artifacts are inextricably linked
to an infamous showbiz tragedy.
What are these mangled fragments?
And what role did they play in an incident
that shocked Hollywood and the nation?
January 1942, Los Angeles, California.
33-year-old Carole Lombard is one of the most beautiful
and beloved actresses in Hollywood.
Carole Lombard was a very famous individual at the time
and really had a strong impact on America.
WILDMAN: Her whirlwind romance
and marriage to superstar Clark Gable
provides endless fodder for the Hollywood gossip machine.
[ Camera shutter clicks ]
But in the winter of 1942,
Lombard, who is known for her screwball comedies,
takes on a much more serious role.
With the bombing of Pearl Harbor just months earlier,
the U.S. is now embroiled in World War II,
and the government turns to selling war bonds
as a way to quickly raise money for the conflict.
To promote this critical endeavor,
the government turns to the stars.
HALL-PATTON: You wanted people that could bring out large crowds,
and Carole Lombard certainly was one of those.
WILDMAN: Lombard jumps at the opportunity to serve the nation,
and with her mother by her side,
the star launches a multi-city tour to promote war bonds.
"To contribute every ounce of energy
and every dollar that we can possibly spare."
WILDMAN: When the tour concludes in Indianapolis,
an exhausted Lombard is eager to fly home and see her husband.
But there is a problem.
Lombard's mother is terrified of flying
and wants to return to California by train.
HALL-PATTON: Carole wanted to take the plane.
She was not an easy one to say no to
once she had made up her mind.
WILDMAN: After a determined debate,
the pair agrees to let the flip of a coin decide their fate.
HALL-PATTON: Unfortunately, Carole won the coin toss.
WILDMAN: On January 16th,
Carole Lombard and her reluctant mother
embark on a journey that will go down in infamy.
After hours of smooth flying,
the aircraft makes a refueling stop in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
HALL-PATTON: When they arrived in Albuquerque,
they found out that the Army Air Corps
had soldiers that needed to make it to California,
so they were going to bump the civilian passengers,
and the soldiers were going to go on the flight.
Well, that was fine
except Carole Lombard wanted to get home.
WILDMAN: Lombard begs the crew
to allow her and her mother to stay on the flight.
Then another passenger steps forward
and volunteers to give up his seat.
And the flight proceeds to Boulder City, Nevada.
HALL-PATTON: Problem was when they came to southern Nevada,
they got here after dark.
The only place that they could land here that was lit at night
was the Las Vegas Army Air Base.
WILDMAN: After a brief stopover just after 7:00 p.m.,
the plane climbs into a clear, moonless sky.
A half-hour later, witnesses south of Las Vegas
report seeing an explosion in the mountains.
And they called down to the sheriff
and said, "There's been a crash."
WILDMAN: Rescue workers scramble to the site of impact
and discover mangled wreckage,
including this 8x4½-inch metal faceplate
from the cockpit.
And soon, news of the crash spreads.
22 people are dead,
including the beloved star and patriot Carole Lombard.
In the wake of the attack on Pearl Harbor, questions arise.
Were the passengers victims of wartime sabotage?
It's 1942.
A passenger plane carrying
Hollywood superstar Carole Lombard
mysteriously crashes into a mountain.
While the nation mourns
the passing of a silver-screen legend,
investigators search for answers.
Is this a case of pilot error,
or is there something more sinister afoot?
The FBI launches an investigation
and immediately focuses on a Hungarian immigrant
named Joseph Szigeti, who disembarked in New Mexico.
Could Szigeti be a Nazi saboteur determined to bring down
a popular cheerleader for the U.S. war effort?
Realistically, if you were going to harm the U.S. war effort,
killing a major actress and a planeload of people
wouldn't have been a bad way of doing it.
WILDMAN: But after an exhaustive investigation,
Szigeti is cleared of any wrongdoing.
As the inquiry continues,
officials pour over the plane's flight pattern
and finally determine the true cause of the accident.
According to the flight plan,
when the plane was diverted from Boulder City to Las Vegas,
the pilot failed to adjust his navigational settings.
Apparently, he flew directly into the mountainside
and did not even see it.
WILDMAN: In time, rescuers are able to recover the victims' bodies,
and Lombard is buried in California.
The actress is honored
as the first female casualty of the war effort.
And this piece of plane wreckage at the Clark County Museum
will forever memorialize
a brave group of soldiers heading off to war
and an unforgettable Hollywood legend.
Virginia City, Nevada.
This former mining town owes its existence to the Comstock Lode,
a massive silver deposit discovered here in 1859.
And today, among the old hotels and watering holes
of this former Wild West town is the 1875 Delta Saloon.
Here, visitors can cozy up to the bar
or try their luck at one of over 120 slot machines.
But there's one antique item in the saloon that,
according to local historian Sharron Land-Gegenheimer,
is strictly off limits.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: It's about 5-feet wide.
It's 34 to 36 inches deep.
The wood is worn, it's cracked, the felt has worn away,
and the brass tacks around it are pretty tarnished.
WILDMAN: This piece of furniture holds a dark secret.
What chilling events played out at this gaming table?
And why will it never host another game of cards again?
1891, Virginia City, Nevada.
For the last 30 years, this town has exploded
from a small western outpost to a booming mining center.
While some miners spend their money on women and ***,
a successful businessman named Charles Fosgard
is looking to double down.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: Charles Fosgard amassed a large amount of money,
and he wanted to reinvest his money
and decided to go into gambling.
WILDMAN: One way to get into the gaming business
is to buy a table and set up in one of the local saloons.
And when Fosgard discovers an old gaming table
tucked away in the back of the Delta Saloon,
he considers it a stroke of luck.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: It's pretty worn.
It's a very old table, but it's beautiful.
WILDMAN: Fosgard changes its curious layout
and puts it into service as a blackjack table.
Soon, gamblers are losing hand after hand at Fosgard's table.
But then, one night, an inebriated miner
staggers into the sawdust and bets his last $5 coin.
He put the coin down and won and then bet that again
and bet it again and bet it again
and then, somehow, miraculously, hit a streak of good luck.
WILDMAN: The miner lets his winnings ride all night,
watching them multiply, seemingly,
with every turn of the card.
Fosgard pays out $85,000, draining him of all his cash.
But the miner continues to win.
So Fosgard is forced to hand over
his most-cherished assets --
his horses and his share in a local gold mine.
So, by the end of this evening in 1891, Charles is demolished.
He drew his gun
and committed suicide right there at the table.
[ Gunshot ]
WILDMAN: Some say Fosgard is just the unlucky victim
of a game of chance, but rumors begin to circulate
that this curious piece of furniture has sinister powers.
Some even believe that the table is cursed.
It's the 1890s in Virginia City, Nevada.
A man named Charles Fosgard buys a gaming table
hoping to make a mint off of local miners.
But when one gambler bankrupts his table,
a broken Fosgard takes his own life.
Soon, whispers of a dark and sinister past
begin to circulate --
that this gaming table is cursed.
The tale begins in 1860,
31 years before Charles Fosgard's demise.
Just as miners begin flocking to Virginia City,
a new card game sweeps the West.
It's called faro.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: The game of faro was absolutely huge.
It was huge all across the United States.
WILDMAN: As the story goes,
no one is more eager to jump in on the new faro craze
than a notoriously greedy man named Black Jake.
He buys a table and instantly begins
separating miners from their hard-earned cash.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: Black Jake has his faro table.
He's running it every single night.
People are losing.
That makes Black Jake really a happy man.
WILDMAN: It is said that Black Jake
relishes in the misfortune
of those who hand him their last penny.
But the tables are about to turn.
One evening, a bold miner bellies up
and bets his life savings
on the game's final hand and strikes it rich.
LAND-GEGENHEIMER: This fellow wins $70,000.
That's over a million dollars in today's money.
WILDMAN: Black Jake doesn't have that kind of money.
The devastated proprietor is in a bind.
He had no choice.
He stepped back from the table and shot himself in the head.
WILDMAN: Some believe there's a certain justice
in Black Jake dying at the very table
where he planned to make a fortune off the backs of others.
Then, a few years later,
it is said that another entrepreneur
uses the same table to run faro games...
...and he, too, meets a sudden and violent end.
Now many in Virginia City are convinced
that the suicide of the avaricious Black Jake
has cursed the table
and those who come to own it are gambling with their lives.
No one dares play on its well-worn surface again.
By 1891, most people who had been here at 1860 were gone.
So the whole aura of this particular table
kind of diminished.
WILDMAN: That is until Charles Fosgard discovers it
about 30 years later.
Some believe that he unwittingly unleashed its terrible powers
and became its final victim.
And today, while it's possible
to gamble elsewhere in Virginia City,
the 1875 Delta Saloon keeps this unlucky relic off limits
for fear that its fatal curse may strike once more.
From a hero dog to a devastating disaster,
a rigged game show to a gambling curse.
I'm Don Wildman, and these are the mysteries at the museum.