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A teenage girl who shoots to the top...
RICHARDSON: This isn't some upstart little kid that's just getting lucky.
This is a true marksman.
[ Gunshot ]
...an act of Arctic bravery...
CHARLES: You would have to be either insane
or extraordinarily desperate to make this journey.
...and a lifelong criminal's haunting demise.
Outside, he's a nobody.
Inside, he's a king.
WILDMAN: Within the walls of great institutions
lie secrets waiting to be revealed.
These are the mysteries at the museum.
-- Captions by VITAC --
Closed Captions provided by Scripps Networks, LLC.
Los Angeles, California.
Set upon 4,300 acres,
the city's Griffith Park is one of the largest in the country.
And amidst this verdant scenery
is another remarkable attraction --
the Autry National Center.
Established by Hollywood cowboy Gene Autry,
the museum salutes the Wild West
with a collection that includes a restored 1850 stagecoach,
a gambling device called the wheel of fortune,
and a pair of imposing 19th-Century totem poles.
But among these frontier artifacts
is a decidedly lethal object
that played a role in a surprisingly sweet tale.
RICHARDSON: This object is gold-plated steel.
It is delicately engraved and has mother-of-pearl grips.
WILDMAN: According to Curator Jeffrey Richardson,
this ornate curio speaks to a tough folk hero
whose career sprang from an unlikely romance.
RICHARDSON: It truly represents one of the great courtships
in the history of the American west.
WILDMAN: So, who owned this pistol,
and how is it linked to a legendary love story
that sparked the career
of America's first female superstar?
Western Ohio -- 1868.
8-year-old Phoebe Ann Moses
is eking out a hardscrabble wilderness life
with her widowed mother and six siblings.
They really struggled to eat each day.
WILDMAN: So, young Phoebe takes matters into her own hands.
RICHARDSON: The family had a rifle,
so she picked up the gun, and she went out hunting.
WILDMAN: As Phoebe traipses through the woods,
she spies a squirrel, takes aim, and pulls the trigger.
[ Gunshot ]
Amazingly, she was successful.
WILDMAN: And it's soon apparent
that Phoebe's skill is no beginner's luck.
RICHARDSON: She was so successful in her hunting
that she was able to sell animals
to local stores and restaurants.
WILDMAN: By 1875,
15-year-old Phoebe has a reputation across the region
as an uncanny sure-shot.
So, when she hears about a shooting match
with a $50 first prize,
she doesn't hesitate to enter...
not even when she learns the competition
is the famous touring marksman Frank Butler.
RICHARDSON: Frank Butler would travel around the country
doing shooting exhibitions,
and when he arrived in a different town,
he would put up a bet that he would be able to outshoot anyone
in that particular community.
WILDMAN: Yet experience fails to prepare him
for his fresh-faced challenger.
RICHARDSON: Really, to Frank's utter amazement,
the competition was a 15-year-old young girl.
WILDMAN: The match's rules are simple.
The two will take turns shooting clay pigeons.
The first one to miss loses.
It's widely assumed it will be Phoebe.
RICHARDSON: There were very few people
who thought she could best this great traveling marksman.
WILDMAN: As soon as the competition begins,
Frank learns that he wildly underestimated his opponent.
RICHARDSON: Every shot that Frank Butler was able to do,
she was able to match.
He's starting to realize this isn't some upstart little kid
that's just getting lucky,
that this is a true marksman.
WILDMAN: But after two dozen rounds...
...things take a fateful turn.
RICHARDSON: The 25th shot, Frank Butler missed.
On her 25th shot,
Phoebe Ann Moses destroyed the target.
[ Cheers and applause ]
WILDMAN: Defying all expectations,
the brilliant young markswoman wins the match
and the admiration of her opponent.
RICHARDSON: I imagine Frank Butler
had to know that she was something special.
WILDMAN: The competitors then strike up a friendship
that blossoms into romance,
and on August 23, 1876, after a whirlwind courtship,
the couple is married.
As Mrs. Frank Butler,
Phoebe gladly hangs up her rifle.
RICHARDSON: For several years,
Phoebe basically works as an assistant for Frank Butler.
WILDMAN: But it seems fate has Phoebe in its crosshairs.
On May 1, 1882,
Frank's stage partner suddenly falls ill,
and he scrambles to find a last-minute replacement.
Frank realizes there's really only one person
that can fill his shoes,
and that's his wife.
WILDMAN: Phoebe agrees to stand in
but adopts a new name for her onstage persona.
By combining her middle name, Ann,
with what is reportedly an old family surname,
Annie Oakley is born.
[ Gunshot ]
RICHARDSON: This very young, beautiful, feminine woman onstage
had such an impact on audiences
that almost immediately Frank Butler knew
that Annie Oakley would be the star of his show.
WILDMAN: As her star rises, Annie's talent catches the eye
of renowned cowboy and showman William "Buffalo Bill" Cody,
who invites her to join his Wild West extravaganza.
And that ultimately gave her the exposure
that made her the most successful,
the most popular woman in America.
WILDMAN: Offstage, Annie Oakley and Frank Butler
remain devoted companions,
and in 1892, as a tribute to his wife,
Frank gives her a specially-crafted pistol,
now part of the Autry's permanent collection.
RICHARDSON: The gun is truly a piece of art
and worthy of someone of Annie Oakley's stature.
WILDMAN: The Butlers' romance endures for half a century.
Then, in November of 1926,
Annie Oakley dies at the age of 66.
18 days later, Frank Butler also passes away.
They truly could not live without one another.
WILDMAN: Today, this pistol,
housed at the Autry National Center in Los Angeles,
is a sentimental symbol of one of history's
most celebrated sharpshooting couples.
Fairbanks, Alaska.
This city of 30,000 people
lies just 120 miles south of the arctic circle,
and it's home to an institution that pays homage
to the region's alpine ridges, glaciers, and skies --
the University of Alaska Museum of the North.
Inside are more than 1.4 million relics
from Alaska's frontier past,
ranging from ancient ivory carvings
to a display of pure gold
and a 36,000-year-old mummified steppe bison
named Blue Babe.
But one bizarre-looking object is neither animal nor mineral.
BAKKER: This artifact is almost lacy in appearance.
It is very light when you hold it.
It almost looks like a piece of coral.
WILDMAN: As the museum's media coordinator,
Theresa Bakker can attest
this lichen points to a toxic tale
of unbridled human exploitation.
It was connected to one of the most disturbing projects
ever proposed by the U.S. government.
WILDMAN: What secrets does this plant specimen hold
about an alarming atomic-age experiment?
August 1958 -- Point Hope, Alaska.
Much of the landscape of the nation's newest state
remains uncharted.
But one summer day,
a member of the native Inupiat tribe named Daniel Lisburne
is hunting caribou when he spots something unusual --
several men scattered along the shoreline
taking measurements.
BAKKER: Daniel asked the men, "What are you doing?"
And they say they're there with the government
and that they're surveying the area.
WILDMAN: Lisburne reports this information
to the local Inupiat council.
They all sort of surmise that, "Maybe they're making maps,"
which would be a good thing.
WILDMAN: But when a geographer from the Atomic Energy Commission
named Don Foote arrives in Point Hope,
he offers a different explanation.
Foote explains
the government wants to build a giant port
30 miles southeast of their village
for shipping coal and oil deposits south to the mainland.
He then discloses
that this massive undertaking, named Project Chariot,
will employ an earth-shattering tool
never used before in construction --
nuclear bombs.
BAKKER: Instead of having to dig and slog their way
through the permafrost and the tundra,
the great plan was to use nuclear devices
to do the work for people.
WILDMAN: The people of Point Hope are horrified,
but Don assures them that the project
will build the local economy and be safe.
BAKKER: Don stakes his personal reputation on this.
He says, "If I find anything that shows me
that this will not be a good thing for your community,
it's not gonna happen."
WILDMAN: To gain the Inupiats' trust,
Foote immerses himself in their culture.
One day while hunting caribou with Daniel Lisburne,
Don notices the animals grazing
very near the proposed blast site,
and he begins to fear
that nuclear fallout from Project Chariot
could poison this critical food source.
They don't have grocery stores that they can go to to get food.
They rely on the caribou.
WILDMAN: In a report to the Atomic Energy Commission,
Don recommends that Project Chariot be scrapped,
but it seems the government is determined to proceed.
About a year later, Don is devastated to find out
this his recommendation was completely ignored.
WILDMAN: Don is perplexed by the commission's motives.
Why would they be willing to expose this community
to such a grave risk?
As he digs further, he discovers Project Chariot's true intent --
to study first-hand the effect of radioactive fallout
on people.
The plan is to detonate six nuclear bombs in a blast
14 times more powerful than Hiroshima
and then monitor its impact on the remote population
for years to come.
Don is horrified.
What will it take to protect the people of Point Hope
from this nuclear nightmare?
It's 1958 in Point Hope, Alaska.
While investigating the potential use
of nuclear explosives in a massive construction effort,
government geographer Don Foote finds
they will devastate the hunting grounds
of the native Inupiat people.
But when the government summarily dismisses the report,
Foote realizes he must defend the people he's come to know.
So, how will he protect these locals
from this terrible fallout?
Don realizes
he must turn public opinion against the government
and sets out to find unassailable scientific proof
that the project will be deadly.
So, he teams up
with an environmental scientist named Bill Pruitt,
who shares an astonishing find.
This community already has
the highest amounts of radiation in the world.
WILDMAN: How can this remote region suffer from fallout
when the nearest nuclear tests were conducted
thousands of miles away in New Mexico?
Bill believes that the answer might actually lie
in the colorful plant that is found all over the tundra
called lichen.
WILDMAN: Bill explains that lichen,
like this sample at the Museum of the North,
is a staple of the caribou diet.
And unlike typical plants, it feeds on dust in the air,
including particles that could be contaminated
by nuclear fallout.
Acting on a hunch,
Bill examines recent studies of lichen samples.
He then compares them to studies of specimens
preserved before 1945,
the year of the first atomic blast in Alamogordo, New Mexico.
And what they uncover confirms their worst fears.
BAKKER: They discover that after that first test,
there is a spike in contamination in the specimens.
So, what this proves is that the fallout
from tests in Nevada and other locations
have actually made it all the way to this area
just by being carried on the wind.
WILDMAN: And that fallout worked its way up the food chain
to the people of Point Hope.
The pair determined
that if blasts were to occur in their own backyard,
this delicate ecosystem would be eviscerated.
Don and Bill published their findings
on the devastating environmental impact of radiation.
The blowback is swift.
The public rallies around the people of Point Hope,
forcing the government to rein in Project Chariot.
And today, these lichens on display
at the University of Alaska Museum of the North
stand as a reminder of the dogged determination it took
to stave off the nuclear destruction
of an Alaskan community.
Deer Lodge, Montana.
For over 140 years,
the city's most prominent institution
has been the Montana State Prison.
Built in 1881, it once housed the outlaws of the old west.
But when a new facility was constructed in 1977,
this building was transformed into a museum.
Here, visitors are offered a glimpse
into the lives of prisoners past
through artifacts like the guns wielded by wardens,
inmate-crafted weapons,
and a book designed to conceal cigarettes.
But there are two items connected to a horrific event
that, to this day, reverberates through these prison halls.
DAVYOUS OWENS: These are leather,
they're about 20 pounds,
and they have corroding cement on them.
WILDMAN: According to tour guide Jamie Davyous Owens,
these shoes are linked to a convict
who served more than a life sentence.
DAVYOUS OWENS: These were once worn by an inmate
whose insane drive for glory and revenge
have survived from beyond the grave.
WILDMAN: Who donned these unorthodox shoes,
and how is he linked to the most fateful day
in the prison's history?
Fall 2003 -- the Old State Prison Museum.
While touring the halls of this building,
a couple is struck by a wicked notion.
DAVYOUS OWENS: They decide they want to spend the night in the cellblocks.
They're imagining this lights-out lifestyle
of convicts.
Wouldn't that be fun?
WILDMAN: The pair sneaks off from the group
and begins to explore this maze of a museum.
Exhilarated by their illicit escapade,
they enter into an empty cell.
But soon, their excitement turns to terror.
They both hear the growling of men -- very low voices.
WILDMAN: But they can't identify the source of the sound.
Then it seems as if they're being attacked.
DAVYOUS OWENS: The man finds himself being choked
and shoved up against this wall.
WILDMAN: He manages to escape the cell,
and the terrified couple flees.
Museum workers come to their aid,
and when they share their harrowing tale,
it seems they're not alone.
Other visitors and employees
claim to have heard menacing voices,
phantom footsteps,
and the touch of an unseen hand,
and many begin to fear the Old State Prison is haunted.
But whose spirit is trapped in these hallways,
and how did he meet his end?
It's 2003
at the Old State Prison Museum in Montana.
Inside the walls of this decommissioned penal facility,
people encounter something bizarre --
the troubled moans of a phantom male voice.
Some even feel pushed by invisible forces
and become convinced
that spirits inhabit these cellblocks.
So, who is haunting this prison, and why?
According to some,
the hauntings can be traced to a notorious incident
that took place some 50 years earlier.
Summer 1958 -- Montana State Prison.
A 41-year-old career criminal named Jerry Myles
is locked up after robbing a local hardware store.
After 25 years in and out of jail,
Jerry knows he's landed in the perfect penitentiary.
DAVYOUS OWENS: The Old State Prison had this very interesting system --
it's state sanctioned --
where they would actually hire convicts
to run the various shops.
WILDMAN: Within months of arriving,
Jerry becomes a shop boss and is supervising fellow convicts.
He revels in his newfound power.
DAVYOUS OWENS: This is his dream come true.
He really makes his space into kind of an after-hours club,
and, of course, it's complete with drugs and alcohol,
so he's really carved a good life out for himself.
Outside, he's nobody.
Inside, he's a king.
WILDMAN: But Jerry's reign is about to come under threat.
In October 1958,
a new warden and deputy warden are hired --
Floyd Powell and Ted Rothe.
DAVYOUS OWENS: When Floyd Powell comes in,
he says, "This is a little bit too much power
in the hands of these convicts."
WILDMAN: His first order of business
is to replace shop bosses with guards and civilians.
This is Jerry Myles' worst nightmare.
WILDMAN: An outraged Myles confronts Deputy Rothe,
and when his pleas are rebuffed, he threatens the warden.
DAVYOUS OWENS: Of course, Ted doesn't take too kindly to this
and immediately orders Jerry into a month of isolation.
WILDMAN: As the story goes,
Myles is forced to wear these shoes with cement soles,
now on display at the Old State Prison Museum,
as a form of punishment.
In isolation, Jerry's fury builds,
and he begins to concoct a plan for revenge.
When he returns to the general population,
he enlists the help of a 19-year-old convicted murderer
named Lee Smart.
On April 16, 1959,
the pair attack a guard and manage to steal a rifle.
DAVYOUS OWENS: Jerry and Lee march directly into the office
of Deputy Warden Ted Rothe.
WILDMAN: Lee draws the weapon,
shoots, and kills Deputy Rothe.
Then the two men incite a full-scale riot,
taking 26 prisoners and guards hostage,
including Chief Warden Powell.
By the next morning,
the National Guard has surrounded the prison,
but Jerry is determined to continue his reign.
DAVYOUS OWENS: Jerry loves the fame and the media attention.
He now has the attention of the National Guard, national news.
WILDMAN: After a tense 36 hours,
the authorities storm the prison with bazookas and tear gas.
Jerry knows that his reign of terror
is about to come to a close.
Jerry realizes that his rifles are no match
for military weapons and military tactics,
so he turns his weapons on Lee Smart.
He kills his accomplice, and then he kills himself.
[ Gunshot ]
WILDMAN: Order is eventually restored,
and the prison operates under much tighter controls
until it's shut down in 1979.
Shortly after, it reopens as a tourist attraction.
Today, many believe the invisible forces
and the sounds of heavy footsteps
are the work of the imprisoned spirit
of a cement-shoed Jerry Myles.
DAVYOUS OWENS: Jerry's always wanted control over this prison,
and he's still here, trying to do that.
WILDMAN: And these shoes,
now on display at the Old State Prison Museum,
serve as a chilling reminder
of one determined criminal's quest for power
and the spirit who some say still walks these halls.
Washington, D.C.
With over 2,000 restaurants tucked into a seven-mile area,
this city of the power-hungry is also home to the power lunch.
And at the Smithsonian National Museum of American History,
even the pickiest eaters can find something to chew on.
Here, an exhibit celebrating the modernization of food
features the kitchen of beloved chef Julia Child,
the first microwave oven designed for the home,
and the once-ubiquitous Swanson TV dinner tray.
Amid this homage to the edible is an item worthy of toasting.
JOHNSON: It has a white label.
It is made of glass.
It has a bit of cork.
WILDMAN: Though it looks like an ordinary bottle,
Curator Paula Johnson asserts that it tells an underdog tale
of an unlikely upstart who revolutionized global tastes.
JOHNSON: It really sort of sent shock waves
through the international wine scene.
WILDMAN: How did this bottle transform American winemaking
from cottage enterprise to a multibillion-dollar industry?
1969 -- Napa Valley, California.
Former college instructor and Chicago native Warren Winiarski
has recently uprooted his young family
to fulfill a driving ambition.
He had this dream of being a winemaker,
so Warren bought this acreage,
he called it Stag's Leap Wine Cellars,
and proceeded then to transform it.
WILDMAN: The burgeoning winemaker
thinks he's found the ideal location
to produce sophisticated European-style reds.
But not everyone is convinced.
The reputation of California wine
was really bulk wines, sweet wines,
inexpensive, high-alcohol wine.
WILDMAN: But Winiarski is undeterred.
JOHNSON: Warren planted his vineyards and tended to the vines.
He really put his sweat into making this happen.
WILDMAN: Finally, in September of 1973,
Winiarski harvests 32 tons of grapes --
his first commercial yield --
and hauls them in for fermentation.
For centuries, traditional winemakers
have relied on wooden tanks for this task.
But Winiarski sees an opportunity
to improve the process
by developing cutting-edge, temperature-controlled
metal containers for the job.
JOHNSON: With the stainless-steel fermentation,
he was able to control the winemaking process
in a way that they hadn't been able to before.
WILDMAN: When fermentation is complete,
Winiarski pours the wine into large oak barrels
and leaves it to age.
18 months later,
the 1973 Stag's Leap Cabernet Sauvignon
is finally ready for market.
For Winiarski,
the vintage is everything he believed it could be --
classic, complex, and delicious.
Yet despite his faith in the product,
he struggles to sell it.
Nobody had heard of this label before.
Nobody really knew Warren Winiarski.
It was a struggle.
WILDMAN: But little does Winiarski know,
he's about to encounter the opportunity of a lifetime.
May 1976 -- Paris.
An enterprising wine merchant named Steven Spurrier
is struck by the quality of wines
emerging from California's Napa Valley,
so he dreams up a daring publicity stunt.
JOHNSON: He decided to hold an event
that would pit the best of French wines
against the new California wines.
WILDMAN: For most wine enthusiasts,
the idea that any vintage, especially one from America,
could top a French one is absurd.
The reputation of French wine was, of course, the best,
the best in the world, the height.
WILDMAN: Regardless of the outcome, Spurrier is convinced
the sensational event will be good for business.
Among the California wines he chooses
is the Stag's Leap 1973 Cabernet Sauvignon.
On May 24th,
he assembles an impressive panel of French judges
for a blind taste test.
They were all experts -- sommeliers, restaurateurs.
These were people in France who knew wine.
WILDMAN: And there are no expectations for the unknown Stag's Leap.
So, does Warren's wine really stand a chance
against the best in the world?
It's 1976.
For months, winemaker Warren Winiarski
has struggled to convince critics
that he's created a sophisticated California red.
Now with his cabernet entered
in the prestigious Judgment of Paris competition,
he finally has his chance to shine.
But can his Napa Valley red
really stand up against the finest French Bordeaux?
Spurrier instructs the judges
to evaluate the 10 reds and assign each a point value.
The tasting, of course, was blind,
so the judges didn't know which one they were tasting.
They were seated very deliberately, very carefully.
WILDMAN: But as the afternoon unfolds,
the experts grow increasingly flustered.
Their refined palates can't discern
the California wines from the French.
What they didn't expect was the level of refinement.
WILDMAN: When the scores are tallied,
the judges are floored.
Warren Winiarski's '73 Cabernet Sauvignon
has taken first place.
JOHNSON: Everybody was shocked.
It was unheard of that a California Cabernet Sauvignon
had placed first above the best of France.
That was huge.
WILDMAN: Warren Winiarski's thrilled
by the victory.
Sales of Stag's Leap surge,
and the winemaking world takes notice.
JOHNSON: This really became kind of a watershed moment.
The world saw that there is beautiful fine wine
that is being produced in California and in America.
WILDMAN: Over time, the once-humble California wine industry
transforms into a multibillion-dollar business,
and winemakers around the world
embrace Winiarski's cutting-edge techniques.
And today, a bottle of this winning Cabernet Sauvignon,
stored in the vaults
of the National Museum of American History,
pays tribute to the vintage
that put California winemaking on the map.
Alamogordo, New Mexico.
This remote desert community is home to the other-worldly dunes
of White Sands National Monument.
But on the edge of town stands an institution
documenting man's quest to reach another alien landscape --
the New Mexico Museum of Space History.
Here visitors can see an AJ10 Delta rocket engine,
an astronaut's portable life-support system,
and a meteor-detecting satellite.
But according to the museum's executive director,
Christopher Orwoll,
one device was intended to never leave the ground.
The artifact is about 30 feet long,
about 10 feet wide, and about 7 feet tall.
It's red, it's white, it's black.
WILDMAN: The person who piloted this apparatus
led some of the most groundbreaking
and life-threatening experiments of the 20th Century.
This is a man who repeatedly put his life on the line
to help save the lives of others.
WILDMAN: So, who drove this dangerous contraption,
and how did it revolutionize the way Americans travel?
December 1947 -- Muroc Army Airfield, California.
Medical officer and biophysicist John Paul Stapp
is staring down a high-octane challenge --
saving the lives of American jet pilots.
New cutting-edge military aircraft
are capable of traveling at upwards of 650 miles per hour,
but if a pilot is forced to eject midair at that speed,
the rapid force of deceleration ravages their body.
ORWOLL: The common belief at the time
was that the human body could not endure more than 18 G's of force
and that ejections at speeds above 600 miles an hour
would be fatal.
WILDMAN: Stapp suspects that with the proper equipment,
pilots actually can withstand this force,
so he and his team set about developing
cutting-edge harnesses
that will better brace pilots during ejection.
To put their design to the test, they build a rocket-powered sled
equipped with hydraulic brakes designed to run along a track.
So, it can accelerate and then decelerate at very high speed.
WILDMAN: After months of preparation,
the team employs a dummy in initial trials.
While results seem promising,
the test conditions are less than ideal.
ORWOLL: They needed to show what the results were
of testing on the human body.
WILDMAN: So, later that year,
Stapp makes a stunning announcement.
He was gonna be putting himself on the sled
to be the test dummy.
WILDMAN: While colleagues try to convince their leader
to let someone else play human guinea pig,
Stapp is steadfast.
He wanted to ride it first
before he asked somebody else to do it.
If anything went wrong, the results could be fatal.
WILDMAN: Stapp dons the protective harness,
and his team watches anxiously.
They ignite the rocket engines,
sending their leader zooming down the track,
then abruptly engage the brakes.
To the team's great relief,
Stapp has survived the sudden impact.
ORWOLL: And he climbed off the sled unscathed
and ready to do it again.
WILDMAN: Tests reveal
that Stapp endured a stunning 18 G's of force,
once thought to be the lethal limit.
But the daredevil is not satisfied.
To truly replicate the conditions
of ejecting from a jet,
he must subject himself to even greater speeds and risks,
and he'll need a more powerful vehicle to do it.
So, engineers at New Mexico's Holloman Air Force Base
set about constructing a more powerful sled.
The new model,
on display at the New Mexico Museum of Space History,
is dubbed Sonic Wind Number 1.
It can reach the unprecedented speed of 650 miles an hour
and decelerate to a dead stop in just over a second.
Even if the harnesses hold up,
no one knows whether the human body can withstand
this potentially organ-crushing force.
They thought that they might have a casualty,
a potential death on the test track.
WILDMAN: Can John Paul Stapp survive this terrifying run?
It's 1954 in Alamogordo, New Mexico.
To better understand the impact of high-speed forces
on the human body,
John Stapp is about to attempt the unthinkable --
helm a rocket-powered sled at unprecedented speeds,
then come to a screeching halt.
So, will this human crash-test dummy survive
this dangerous experiment?
On the afternoon of December 10th,
the countdown begins.
When it reaches zero, the sled's nine rockets ignite.
Stapp zooms down the track
at a record-breaking 632 miles an hour.
ORWOLL: He was accelerated to a speed
that exceeds that of a bullet coming out of a gun.
WILDMAN: Just a moment later, the hydraulic brakes engage,
and the sled instantly screams to a halt.
When the smoke finally clears,
colleagues race to the human crash-test dummy.
The medics expected that there might be some grave injuries
coming out of this sled run.
WILDMAN: Yet it seems Stapp and the restraint system
were indeed up to the test.
Scientists later determine
that he endured a staggering 40 G's of force.
The forces were so tremendous
that he had to keep his eyes closed very tightly
to keep his eyeballs essentially in his head.
WILDMAN: Stapp's remarkable test
proves supersonic jet pilots can eject safely.
And soon, his team's restraint designs
are implemented in military and civilian aircraft.
It's not long
before his research crosses over to the auto industry.
In the 1960s,
he helps perfect the three-point passenger safety belt
and successfully leads the charge
to make them mandatory in all U.S. cars.
For anyone who gets around on planes, trains, and automobiles,
the work of John Paul Stapp continues to resonate,
and this rocket-powered sled
at the New Mexico Museum of Space History
reflects the courage of a researcher
always willing to take the driver's seat.
Hanover, New Hampshire.
This small town is consistently ranked
as one of the best places to live in America.
It's also home to a world-class institution
of higher learning -- Dartmouth College.
And on this Ivy League campus
stands an invaluable repository --
the Rauner Special Collections Library.
The historic archive includes
a bust of statesman and Dartmouth alum Daniel Webster,
a 19th-Century sewing machine,
and an illuminated edition
of the complete works of Geoffrey Chaucer.
But among these perfectly preserved items
is a simple object that looks a bit worse for wear.
CHARLES: This artifact is about 20 inches tall,
14 inches wide, and about an inch thick.
It's got a green canvas-type cover,
and it's filled with fountain-pen ink handwriting.
WILDMAN: This frayed volume survived an awe-inspiring journey
that's compared to traveling to hell and back.
You could live 1,000 lifetimes
and not struggle as much as these men did.
WILDMAN: To whom did this journal belong,
and what hellish, harrowing ordeal did its owner endure?
December 1914 -- the Southern Atlantic.
Onboard the Endurance,
famed British explorer Ernest Shackleton
is on an epic mission
to be the first to explore the last uncharted continent --
Antarctica.
CHARLES: Shackleton and his 27 men
were hugely excited about this adventure.
WILDMAN: The goal is to sail as far south as Vahsel Bay,
then traverse the frozen 1,800-mile interior by sled.
Yet Shackleton knows
that Antarctica's punishing climate
threatens even the best-laid plans.
CHARLES: The extreme weather conditions are extraordinary --
high winds, blizzards, ice,
plus the coldest temperatures on Earth.
WILDMAN: And the hardships strike
long before Shackleton and his men reach the antarctic circle.
Within weeks, ice drifts surround the Endurance.
By February, it's frozen in place, unable to budge.
CHARLES: Getting trapped in the ice
was a disaster.
WILDMAN: But over time,
the pressure of the crushing ice pack mounts.
CHARLES: The ship started to break up and go down.
Shackleton gave the order to abandon ship.
WILDMAN: The entire crew manages to escape the decimated ship
with their lives, some provisions,
and three lifeboats.
Now the beleaguered crew must determine
how to survive on the open ice.
CHARLES: Apart from the cold
and the possibility of falling into the water,
the men were terrified of starving to death.
WILDMAN: Camped on the drifts, the men subsist on seal blubber
and their dwindling supply of rations.
The job of meting them out falls to the crew's storekeeper,
37-year-old Thomas Orde Lees.
CHARLES: Orde Lees wrote that no housewife
had ever had such a job making so little food go so far.
WILDMAN: He records these musings in this journal,
which now resides in the Rauner Special Collection.
The expedition has pushed Shackleton
and his ice-bound crew to their outermost limits.
But then the elements unleash their fiercest test yet.
CHARLES: The ice began to break up,
and things took a turn for the worse.
WILDMAN: With the very surface beneath their feet giving way,
Shackleton announces a bold plan.
Shackleton gave the order to load the lifeboats
with everything they could.
WILDMAN: The strategy is to skirt around the pack ice to open water,
then row like mad to land.
After six torturous days and nights,
Shackleton and his men
wash up on a place called Elephant Island.
Once again on solid ground, their ordeal is far from over.
CHARLES: Elephant Island was about 100 miles north
of Antarctica --
completely uninhabited by humans.
WILDMAN: And with dwindling supplies,
the threat of starvation still looms large,
so five days later,
Shackleton devises one final bid for rescue.
He tells the men he will sail a lifeboat
800 miles across open waters to South Georgia Island
in search help.
You would have to be either insane
or extraordinarily desperate
to make this journey.
WILDMAN: On April 24th, Shackleton and five others
bid farewell to the crew and shove off.
CHARLES: As they launch the boat,
the swell of the sea was enormous.
WILDMAN: Will Shackleton survive this torturous journey
and find help for his ailing men?
It's April 1916 in the remote southern Atlantic.
Ernest Shackleton and the crew of the Endurance
are shipwrecked,
but the bold explorer is embarking on a last-ditch effort
to save his men.
He'll sail a small lifeboat to a whaling station
800 miles away.
So, will Shackleton survive this harrowing journey,
and can the crew endure the wait?
For four months,
the men huddle together at the makeshift camp,
surviving on scraps and biding their time.
But on the morning of August 30th,
the tide finally turns.
One of the crew spots a small ship on the horizon.
CHARLES: Unbelievably, this was Shackleton on a small tugboat,
returning to save them.
WILDMAN: After leading 27 men
to the ends of the earth,
Shackleton brings each and every one of them home.
CHARLES: The tale of this expedition
has become one of the greatest survival stories
that the world has ever known.
WILDMAN: And here at the Rauner Special Collection,
this journal, kept by crewman Thomas Orde Lees,
which charts the odyssey's extraordinary course,
speaks to the indomitable will of the human spirit.
From a sharpshooting sensation to a shocking scientific plot,
a haunted prison to a prize-winning wine.
I'm Don Wildman, and these are the mysteries at the museum.