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Hey everyone and welcome back to the Into The Dark podcast. I'm your host, Peyton Moreland, and I am so, so happy you are here. Quickly, if you are watching on YouTube, give this video a thumbs up, turn on notifications, even just drop an emoji in the comments. We really could use the interaction. And if you are listening on podcast and can leave a review,
That would be great. Okay, now that we're done with all that biggie stuff, let's jump into my 10 seconds before we get into today's episode. So Garrett and I, Garrett is my husband, in case you don't listen to Murder With My Husband, but I'm assuming you do. We are getting ready to go on our spring break.
live show tour. We are just doing a couple shows and we're really excited, but we are trying to get ahead in order to be able to do that a little bit stress-free. So I really this week have just been jam-packed, recording a ton, which has been great, but also a
a lot of trauma and murder and just, you know, these stories aren't just stories at the end of the day. These are real people, real victims, and it can become a lot. I also did hurt my back at the gym. So it's just been crazy.
Quite a week. I had a pretty intense panic attack last night, but you know what? I'm here. I'm keeping going. And I just wanted to give anyone who's listening a word of encouragement today that, you know, you never know what life's going to bring you. It, you know, comes with ups and downs. It comes with light and darkness. And all we can do is ride the wave. So I'm here riding the wave and trying my best to live in the moment and
and I hope you are too, and we can do this together. Okay, let's jump into the episode. And I think you might like today's case if you are into unexplainable extraterrestrial things, because that is where we are going on Into the Dark today. So regardless of whether you believe in the supernatural or not, there's one story I'm almost certain you've heard of before.
Back in 1947, a silver disc-like object crashed on a rural farm in Roswell, New Mexico. The military moved in and collected the debris quickly along with what may have been the remains of deceased alien bodies.
The entire operation was kept under wraps and is still questioned by believers and skeptics alike today. Skeptics who've put forth all sorts of theories to try and explain what the Roswell object was. From weather balloons to top secret government projects to an elaborate plan designed by the Soviet Union to scare the American people. All we know for sure is that this happened.
But there's one rumor I can debunk right here and now. The Roswell incident was not the first time something like this happened on American soil.
In fact, there's a very little known story in UFO lore that I want to share with you today. And it actually took place six years before the word Roswell became synonymous with little green aliens. And it happened in a little Missouri town called Cape Girardeau. But most importantly, it may just prove that we are not alone in the universe after all.
So it's the spring of 1941. Much of the world has descended into chaos as World War II is now in full swing. The United States has managed to stay out of the fight thus far, but Americans feel the impending doom. The call of war marching slowly towards their doorstep. By December, they will be joining the fight, but that's still several months away than where we are now in this case.
So for now, on the evening of Saturday, April 12th, 1941, all is quiet on the Western Front. It's actually Easter weekend. Many families are hiding their decorated eggs for children to find in the morning. And in the town of Cape Girardeau, Missouri, things are no different. Aside from the fact that it's unseasonably warm for an April evening here.
That night, the 52-year-old Baptist Reverend William Huffman and his wife, Floyd, were hosting their family for a quiet holiday dinner when the phone rang at around 9 p.m. Now, William wasn't expecting to hear the sheriff on the other end of the line. He said, "'There's been a crash.'"
William's heart sank as he quietly counted the heads of his family members in the other room. They were all there, thank goodness. But that's when the sheriff continued. A plane, we think, has crashed out in a residential field right on the border of Cape Girardeau. The sheriff apologized for the inconvenience, but they needed the reverend to come read the victims their last rites.
Sure, it was a holiday weekend, but Reverend Huffman knew this was his duty. In fact, he was somewhat honored that the sheriff had thought of him. William was fairly new in town, having only moved to Cape Girardeau to join the Red Star Baptist Church a year prior, so in 1940. Perhaps this was the kind of thing the people of Cape Girardeau expected from their clergyman. Plus, William knew he hadn't been the most popular man since he'd arrived in town.
The Reverend was brought specifically to Cape Girardeau to help bolster the failing church, which meant putting the pressure on locals when it came to emptying their wallets for fundraising. William didn't need another reason for the people of Cape Girardeau to dislike him. If he said no to the sheriff, word would certainly get around and he could kiss any additional donations goodbye. So despite it being a holiday weekend, William agreed to go help out.
and the sheriff promised to send a car to pick him up shortly. And in a matter of minutes, an unmarked vehicle arrived in the driveway of the reverend's home. Then there was a sharp rap on the front door. William grabbed his Bible and chose to leave his jacket. He didn't think that he'd need it on this warm 70 degree night.
He kissed Floyd, his wife, telling her he was uncertain what time he'd be home, and he waved goodbye to his son and rubbed the belly of his pregnant daughter-in-law. Then William was led towards that large sedan by a man the family had never seen before.
So the Reverend didn't ask many questions on the half hour ride to the scene. The driver seemed to know exactly where he was going. So William just clutched his Bible, tightened his lap and watched as the stars passed by his passenger side window. Now, eventually the car came to a slow roll in a grassy lot. William could see a yellow glow just beyond the trees, remnants of a fire that still needed to be tamed.
As they parked and made their way by foot further into the open field,
Reverend Huffman saw the chaos unfolding before him. Local police and firemen were spread amongst the crash site, patches of flames still caught in the brush, piles of silver debris scattered across the property. Whoever crashed here did not stand a chance. Now back then, plane crashes were far more common than they are today, especially with the more rudimentary technology and air safety regulations.
which may be why William didn't really think too much of the call when he first received it that evening. But now, standing before the crash scene, something just didn't sit right with William. He began wondering to himself, where were the wings of the plane? Where was the engine? Where were all the passengers and their belongings? There was no luggage or personal items strewn about. No paperwork, no propellers, no seats.
Every bone in William's body told him this was not an ordinary plane crash. And that's when he saw it. It was a giant silver metallic disc busted wide open and lodged tightly into the soil. It had been badgered to pieces, which were now strewn about the field.
But the main compartment showed no markings, no serial numbers. Even to Reverend Huffman's untrained eye, this was unlike any man-made airplane that he'd ever seen. Before he could even get a good look, William was ushered away by an officer to do what he came to do, to pray for the victims. Now, only a few feet from the craft lay three small bodies motionless in the grass. And at first, they almost looked like the size of children.
But as William got closer, he realized those bodies weren't human at all.
According to the Reverend, the three creatures were about four feet tall and extremely thin. They had long arms with only three fingers, large black eyes, and hairless heads. Their lips were more just like a slit, and their ears just tiny holes on the side of their head. Plus, they seemed to be wearing a silver metallic fabric like some sort of suit.
Despite the gruesome crash scene, none of them appeared to be bleeding or terribly injured. However, two of the creatures looked like dolls, showing no signs of life. But the third, William noticed, still seemed to be breathing. So he put his fear aside and knelt gently next to the last living thing?
He opened up his Bible and did what he came there to do. With his hands shaking, he began reading a passage and offering his prayers. Everything went silent around William as he said his blessings to this creature from another world. After he finished, he closed his Bible and watched as what he called the little man finally went limp.
Suddenly, the chaos of the scene around him returned into focus. William was again aware of all the excited voices and the crackling fires that were still surrounding him. Once again, he was ushered away from the beings as two local photographers began snapping their photos. One of them even picked up a creature, propping it up for the camera as two other men posed beside it.
Then, as he was being led back to the car, William snuck another good look at the craft itself. I mean, you can imagine what he's thinking at this point. And this time when he looks, he even gets a peek inside. So William sees a few small seats positioned around a control board filled with gauges and dials. He also noticed a strange hieroglyphic style writing on the walls inside the machine, and
And what stuck out to the reverend was there appeared to be no seams, screws, nuts, or bolts to explain how all of the pieces of this aircraft fit together. It was as if it was just one giant piece of smooth shaped metal.
William failed to see any material goods in the craft. There was no food or drink. There were no beds. There were no extra suits. He wondered if this was some sort of shuttle craft, sort of like a life raft belonging to a much larger mothership. And there was more things that were odd. There was no distinct smell coming from the vessel, like gasoline or other burning fuels, which made him question,
What even allowed this thing to travel in the sky? And what could have caused this object to crash in the first place? There were no electrical storms or bad weather in the area that evening. There was no signs of a second aircraft or a possible collision. And keep in mind, this is 1941. The skies weren't nearly as occupied as they are today. There were no rogue helicopters, drones, or weather balloons there.
Before William could wonder any of these details aloud, the entire mood of the scene shifted. Military personnel arrived in giant trucks seemingly out of nowhere to take over the crash site, hurrying nearly everyone that wasn't in a military uniform off of the property. They began issuing orders to all the civilians saying this crash was now a matter of national security.
They threatened the witnesses saying things like, this never happened and you saw nothing. And they were to never speak to anybody about what they'd experienced that night.
The military personnel demanded that any evidence taken from the scene be collected. That was including the roll of film taken by those local photographers. Now, any proof that something otherworldly happened in Cape Girardeau was going to be washed clean. And it was clear to the Reverend that these men were following strict orders from someone high up in the government. But that didn't necessarily mean he was going to follow these orders himself.
So it was around midnight, now Easter Sunday, when Floyd Huffman heard tires coming back up the gravel driveway. Her husband got out of the car and walked up to the house looking as if he'd seen a ghost. His entire family had actually stayed up waiting for his return, uncertain with what kind of story he'd come back with, you know, like what kind of plane had crashed, was it local, etc.
but they never in a million years could have expected this. William's entire family knew he was a sensible man.
Hardly prone to fantasy was some of the words they used to describe him. But that evening, William's demeanor was different. He paced the living room nervously, uncertain whether he should even utter a word of what he saw. Then he eventually gave in and told his family, "'I'll tell you this once, and then we are never going to speak of it again.'"
When they all agreed, every detail of his evening came pouring out. The silver disc, the big-eyed men, the hieroglyphics and the military threats. It was the kind of story you simply just couldn't make up, especially during that time. Because you have to keep in mind, this is 1941.
A time before UFOs and aliens had even entered the public consciousness. I mean, it's not like today where everyone has learned about aliens and UFOs. There weren't mainstream images of big eyed green monsters with long arms. This was one of the first times someone had given that exact description. One that now fits the stereotypical alien imagery we have today.
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Let's get back into the episode. So after William finished telling his story, he trudged upstairs ready to sleep it off and forget it like a bad dream come the morning. And this was a task that proved easier than the Reverend might have imagined. Because in the days and weeks that followed, almost no one in town spoke about the plane crash that had happened on Easter weekend.
the military never came knocking on the reverend's door there were no articles about it in any local newspapers there were no broadcasts on local radio stations even the local fire and police departments wiped the incident from their records but that didn't mean the whole experience just disappeared particularly for those who experienced it
Reverend Huffman was said to be a lot more introspective after that sighting. He became more open-minded, but also quieter. He was more reclusive and clearly rattled. Others in town later claimed that the consequences were a bit harsher for them. Fireman Walter Reynolds, who was reportedly called to the same crash scene, he felt as though he was being watched in the weeks after the crash, particularly for being one of the few to speak out about the matter around town.
But at this point, all anyone had was their word. Any evidence the civilians tried to take from the scene had been confiscated by military officials, or at least that's what everyone initially thought.
It was around April 22nd, 1941, when the reverend was visited by a member of his congregation. So for the last 10 days, William had been trying to put the scene out of his mind, wondering if maybe the whole thing might have just been a bad dream after all. I mean, no one seemed to know what was going on. This was when suddenly this man, a local photographer named Garland Frohnbarger, confirmed to him that he wasn't making it up.
It had all truly happened. The crash scene with those weird, strange men was real. Garland handed William a picture that he'd snapped that night, one that he'd actually managed to hide from authorities and sneak off the scene.
The image was one William remembered being taken. It was a picture of two men holding up one of those alien bodies. Garland told him he wanted someone else besides him to have a copy of the image, someone that he trusted, someone who was there that night, someone he knew could keep it safe.
Now, William had a smoking gun. He had physical proof that his experience had really happened, that what he'd been called to pray for on that warm April night was not a human being. But the power of that evidence also terrified the Reverend. When he got home that evening, he wondered if he should just destroy his copy. He'd heard rumors of a watchful eye, of people feeling like they'd been followed or threatened since the night that they saw the crash.
He didn't want to put his family through that. God only knew what those military men would do if they found out that he had this picture. After some thought, the Reverend decided to keep the photo, but handed it over to his oldest son, Guy, to hide away in his house where authorities might never expect it. Only Guy had a very different take on the photo. He didn't find it threatening at all and said he thought it made for a great conversation piece.
See, Guy was known to pull this photograph out during dinner parties and show it to a few close friends. But during one gathering sometime later around 1953, Guy got a little too trusting with what was essentially the holy grail of alien evidence.
After seeing the photo, a friend named Walter Fisk asked if he could borrow it. He knew a photographer who could authenticate it, maybe make a few copies for additional safekeeping. So Guy Huffman, the Reverend's son, entrusted Walter with the picture of the two unknown men holding up that alien body. And Walter promised he would bring it right back. But once he walked out of the Huffman's dining room that evening, Guy never saw the image or Walter Fisk again.
So after hearing the Huffman story, a UFO author and researcher named Stanton Friedman decided to track down Walter Fiske
around the early 1990s. So this is years later. Everyone is still trying to figure out if this picture exists. Is this story even true? And this UFO author is like the last known person to have had this picture that we know of is Walter. So he tries to track him down. By then, Walter was in his 70s. And when Stanton asked about the image, Walter insisted he had no idea what he was talking about. He remembered nothing about it.
He did, however, say he had a keen interest in UFOs and claimed to bear witness to one himself several decades prior. But here's the thing about Walter Fisk. While on paper, his profession was allegedly an insurance salesman, he was somewhat of a man of mystery. See, there had been rumors that Walter worked for the government, either as a spook, a spy, or both.
A rumor that Walter sort of confirmed when he spoke to Stanton. He admitted he had indeed worked for the State Department and at one point he was also an advisor to a U.S. president. When Stanton spoke to Walter, he was living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, only just a few miles away from Kirtland Air Force Base, Sandia National Laboratories, and the Manzano Storage Area.
Locations rumored to be home to many heavily guarded military technologies and even an alien spacecraft. So perhaps Walter Fisk was never just a friendly insurance salesman who genuinely wanted to get to know Guy Huffman and his family. Maybe Walter Fisk was working as a government agent with a mission to get his hands on the one piece of evidence that could expose the truth about the 1941 crash.
Maybe Walter Fisk's job was to make sure that image was never seen again. And if it was, he succeeded. At least that's what Charlotte Huffman, Guy's daughter, seems to believe.
Charlotte was only 11 when Walter Fisk dined at their house and dashed with that photo, only for it to never be seen again. But prior to that evening in 1953, Charlotte remembered seeing the image over 20 different times, and she recalled it precisely the way her grandfather, Reverend William Huffman, did on the night he came home from the crash. It was two men holding up a creature about four feet tall with giant eyes, two little dots where their nose would be, and a small slit for a mouth.
It was actually a memory that mystified Charlotte more than it terrified her. But she was always told not to ask her grandparents questions about that April night in 1941 because they themselves never wanted to think about it again.
Reverend William Huffman died in 1959, taking any additional details with him to his grave. And come 1984, his wife, Floyd, was also coming to the last days of her life. And that's when Charlotte decided it was now or never. She needed to know more about what happened the night the photo was taken. So she spent days interviewing her grandma, Floyd, who was ready to open up about everything William had told her about that night and how he behaved after the fact.
By the end of the year, Floyd died of cancer, but Charlotte finally had her grandfather's full account. In 1991, Charlotte typed up William's story, which was sent on to a former intelligence officer turned UFO researcher named Leonard Stringfield. Leonard went to meet with Charlotte and found her to be completely trustworthy, her story totally sound.
From there, Charlotte began interviewing with all sorts of people in the UFO community, finally breaking the Huffman family's long streak of silence. And slowly but surely, the story of the Cape Girardeau crash, the alien landing that preceded Roswell, made its way into the public consciousness.
And thanks to Charlotte, others started to come forward with their stories as well, including a former Sykeston, Missouri resident named Linda Wallace. Sykeston is actually located just 35 miles south of Cape Girardeau and was also home to the Missouri Institute of Aeronautics, otherwise known as the MIA, a location widely known for training military pilots. Well,
Well, back in 1941, Linda's father was one of those trainees, and she'd heard rumors that her father was one of those military men who descended on the crash site that April evening. Men who'd shoot away the civilians and recovered pieces of the craft to be brought back to the Sykeston MIA. But Linda's father's story may answer another giant mystery surrounding the event. What caused the UFO to crash in the first place?
Well, according to Linda's mother, her father might have played a giant part in actually bringing that craft down.
See, on that evening, Mr. Wallace was allegedly using a mirrored device called a heliograph. It was an object that used Morse code to communicate a message by reflecting light at airplanes. Rumor had it that Mr. Wallace may have blinded or distracted the spacecraft, causing it to come toppling out of the sky that evening.
When Mrs. Wallace first heard the rumor and approached her husband about it, he laughed it off as ridiculous notion. But when he told his superiors what was going around that rumors had started to spread, they were less than amused. They supposedly pressured Mr. Wallace to have a conversation with his wife about the matter of the UFO. Then Mr. Wallace was called away on a long training assignment to Chicago, Illinois. And after that, he never spoke to his wife about his work again.
ever again. But Mrs. Wallace knew that her husband's superior's threats were real because after that April 1941, she noticed some strange things happening to the people in Sykeston. A series of inexplicable automobile accidents, a few unexpected suicides, even a man who'd hanged himself in his garage after working on a secret government project.
And when Mrs. Wallace brought up this string of unusual deaths during a card game with friends, one of the young women looked her dead in the eyes, offering a stern warning. Do not talk about it, she said, lest you be next. But there was one question that continued to nag her daughter, Linda Wallace, over the years. Say her father was involved in the recovery operation. What did they end up doing with all of that debris? And where did they take those three little alien bodies?
Well, during her research, Linda received some information that made her fairly certain their final destination was not the Sykeston MIA. Within days of the Cape Girardeau crash, an extremely large cargo plane was seen parked on the runways of the Missouri Institute of Aeronautics. Many claimed that a plane that large had no business at that school, which only utilized small fighter jets.
But the presence of this incredibly large cargo plane was a clear sign to some that the debris from Cape Girardeau was being moved to a more secure facility. The question now was, where was it going?
Well, there were a few theories on where the otherworldly technology might have ended up. Some believed it was shuttled to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base outside of Dayton, Ohio. Wright-Patterson was the confirmed headquarters for the Air Force's infamous UFO research branch called Project Blue Book.
This was where many of the scientists recruited from Nazi Germany under Operation Paperclip ended up in the late 1940s and 50s, continuing their research, just this time for the Americans. However, there's one account that suggested the remnants of that crash might have been taken to one of the most unexpected places in the country, the basement of the Capitol building.
In 2009, sisters Lucille Holt Andrew and Aline Holt Gramley opened up about a story they'd gotten from their father. Like Reverend Huffman, he was also a man of God, a Church of Christ pastor named Turner H. Holt, who happened to have some significant ties in government. Back in the latter half of 1941, Holt traveled from Ohio to Washington, D.C., to participate in some religious conferences when he decided to meet up with his cousin.
then security of state under President Roosevelt, Cordell Hull. Well, according to Hull's biography, he had a close relationship with the president and was given, quote, frank answers to most secret matters, which may be why he had the power to show his cousin something remarkable during that visit.
On that particular afternoon, Holt led his cousin up the stairs of the Capitol building while swearing him to secrecy. What he was about to show him was not to be discussed with anyone. Reverend Holt agreed as Holt led him inside the building through a series of secret doors and stairs, eventually leading to a massive basement area. The walk was so long, so winding that Holt began to tire, asking his cousin where in the world they were going.
But eventually, they came to a door, one leading to a storage room. And when Hull finally opened that door, the contents inside blew the Reverend's mind. There were crates of metal objects, shards and debris made from a material Hult had never seen before. In the back was a very large object covered with a cloth. It appeared to be round, saucer-like in shape.
But the most shocking part of it all was a series of three jars lining a nearby shelf, and each jar contained a small human-like body floating in the clear liquid. Three creatures, shockingly similar in build to the ones Reverend Huffman had allegedly prayed over in the weeks before.
when Holt looked over to his Secretary of State cousin, Holt reassured him, these were creatures from another world. And the look on his face assured Reverend Holt that this was no hoax. Okay, you guys, let me guess. Your medicine cabinet is crammed with stuff that doesn't work. You still aren't sleeping. You still hurt and you're still stressed out. That's
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- Now I know you're probably wondering, of all places in the world, why would they store such world changing evidence in the basement of a giant political hotspot and major tourist attraction?
Well, there is a few reasons. In 1941, with World War II inching closer to America's doorstep, FDR had hired an influx of new guards to protect the Capitol building, meaning there was more security there than ever before. And what you might not know is, over the centuries, there have been plenty of dead presidents and congressmen who have been preserved in the basement while their funerals are prepared.
which just goes to show storing dead bodies in the Capitol, whether human or alien, was not completely unheard of at this time. So look, could the Cape Girardeau crash have been something explainable?
A story that worked like a bad game of telephone, getting muddled as it was passed down through the generations. I mean, of course. The thing is there have been several other leaked government documents since then suggesting it really was a UFO crash. Take for example, a leaked oval office memorandum dated back in 1942.
The document, written by FDR, orders Professor Albert Einstein himself to look for ways to continue his atomic research using the technology recovered from recent celestial items.
Keep in mind, this was a year after Cape Girardeau and five years before Roswell. So the only celestial items they could be referring to would be the ones collected in Missouri that April 1941. At least that's what we know of. Then there was what I'd like to think is the real smoking gun. The 1947 White Hot Intelligence Estimate drafted by General Nathan Twining, head of the Foreign Technology Division.
The 19-page leaked document was clearly intended for those with the highest level of security clearance because it offered an explosive revelation. While parts are redacted, it referenced, quote, the Missouri discovery of 1941, and it implied that said discovery was, quote, extraterrestrial in nature.
It also suggested that the government may have tried to reverse engineer that debris to create their own technologies. Page 16 goes on to mention, quote, even the recovery case of 1941 did not create a unified intelligence effort to exploit the possible technological gains with the exception of the Manhattan Project.
Which begs an even bigger question. Did the Cape Girardeau crash offer inspiration for the atomic bomb? Now, there are many skeptics who say these leaked documents could be fakes. And there's never been any substantial proof that the government has recovered, let alone studied UFO debris or remains. But if you ask Charlotte Huffman, she'd say you were wrong.
She believes that Twining's report was the validation she and her family had been searching for ever since her grandfather came home that warm April evening. She said, quote, "I have not forgotten holding that paper in my hands and realizing that my family's story was real. It was solid.
and for me was an answer to a long time question. And that was the story of what might be the first ever UFO crash that's been documented. Let me know if you liked this type of episode. Again, I will always go back to murder, but these things just fascinate me and they really prove that the further you walk into the dark, the weirder it gets. I will see you next time. Goodbye.
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