Bagged & Tagged

and removal. That's the standard tsa security message in an American airport. Its message is simple and clear too. If you have a bag, keep it with you at all times, and if you leave the bag alon, you're essentially giving up responsibility for what happens to it. But what does happen to a suitcase that gets left behind? Where does it go? We know that every airport has a lost and found, But do items remain there forever? If they

are never claimed? Does security eventually throw them out like they do with suspicious water bottles and knives on carry on luggage? If you've ever wondered this, then you wouldn't be the first person. For decades, people would forget about their bags in airports and it would go straight to whatever storage they could find for it. It was a problem not just for airlines but for all sorts of

mass transit companies. If there's one thing more universal than the human desire for travel, it's our ability to leave our important belongings behind at the first opportunity. It's estimated that half a percent of baggage goes permanently unclaimed at airports, but with hundreds of millions of people traveling the country in a year, that still means millions of bags that need somewhere to go. Well, one curious tale might just

add answer the question. In nineteen seventy, Doyle Owens of Scottsboro, Alabama, was talking to a bus driver friend on Ham radio. The bus driver mentioned offhand that the buses always deal with loads of excess baggage that gets left behind, far more than they could ever deal with. Owens was just an insurance salesman, but he knew a market opportunity when

he saw one. Shortly after, he borrowed a pickup truck, took out a loan, and drove to Washington, d C. To pick up a load of unclaned baggage from the bus company's headquarters. Along with his wife, Sue, and his two sons, he went to work selling the baggage and its contents thrift store style, first from a rented house, then from a warehouse. It was enough of a success that eight years later he partnered with his first airline

in order to handle their leftover baggage for them. Eventually, all domestic airlines had deals with this little company in Alabama. Even as it kept expanding, the unique appeal of the Unclaimed Baggage Center remained intact. It's like a miniature city of lost and forgotten objects, from the mundane to the truly strange, and it should come as no surprise that when news outlets found out about the company, they were

eager to feature them. A nineteen ninety five piece on the Oprah Show catapulted them into a greater stratosphere of awareness, and soon the Unclaimed Baggage Center was not just a small business anymore. It was a tourist attraction. In the late nineteen nineties, they founded the Museum of Lost Treasures, a companion building that would feature the strangest and most interesting items that the Owens family had found over the

years at various times throughout history. They found such items as a Renaissance loot, a live rattlesnake, an Egyptian burial mask, and in the late nineteen nineties they found a bag full of props and puppets from the Jim Henson Company, and among those Henson objects was the full puppet for the character Hoggle from the film Labyrinth. Naturally, the Unclaimed Baggage Center reached out to the Henson Company to see

if they wanted the back back. In a spirit of good humor, the Henson family allowed them to keep the puppet of Hoggle, which now lives in the Museum of Lost Treasures. And it's easy enough to see why, after all, the Unclaim Baggage Center is it away a special sort of labyrinth. Marylyn and Maurice watched the sunrise over sixty four million square miles of endless, deep blue water. They had sailed over six thousand miles from England across the Atlantic,

through the Panama Canal and past the Galopagus Islands. It was an absolute triumph. Maurice rested a hand on his wife's back, taking in the vastness of the Pacific Ocean from the sun bleached deck of their small ship. They had named it the Orlon, from a combination of Maurice and Maryland's first names and a symbol of the adventure that they were embarking on together. The Baileys were surprised

to find that a life at sea suited them. Setting sail in June of nineteen seventy two, they'd become closer than ever before, and nine months later, in March of nineteen seventy three, the prospect of another few months spent in tight quarters felt comforting, not daunting. New Zealand Their final destination lay another five thousand miles away, across the largest ocean in the world. Marilyn looked up at her husband,

beaming at his tanned brow and newfound freckles. What a perfect day spent with her perfect husband on this perfect boat. And then came the whale, an injured, confused sperm whale, rising to the surface for a breath of air and destroying the Orelan in one fell swoop. Maurice and Maryland couldn't believe their bad luck. Here they'd been floating through the middle of the Pacific Ocean, literally millions of square miles of water, and they were rear ended by a whale.

Needless to say, this was not what they were expecting. Maurice and Maryland Bailey were not particularly adventurous people. The whole point of the sailing trip had been to break up the monotony of their quiet, middle aged lives back in England, and they weren't professional sailors either. In fact, Maryland couldn't even swim. They sold all their possessions to buy the Orland and pay for Maurice's sailing lessons. Down

at a nearby harbor. Now thousands of miles away from home, they were literally on a sinking ship, in close proximity to at least one massive whale, and no idea how to call for rescue. The Orland sank within minutes. Fortunately, Maryland and Maurice were calm in the crisis. Maurice retrieved the circular rubber life raft, about the size of a kiddie pool, while Maryland raced to find medical supplies, a compass, and enough provisions in case rescue took a few days.

Minutes earlier, they'd been enjoying a beautiful sunrise aboard the ship. They called home a ship that was currently sinking to the bottom of the Pacific, taking all their worldly possessions with it. The first week passed easily. Yes, the small raft was uncomfortable, Yes, alone, time became a forgotten luxury. But each day the Baileys were sure they'd be rescued. They rationed their canned food, calculated their approximate location, and took turns watching for passing ships. By the end of

the first month, things started to look dire. Several ships had passed without seeing the Bailey's raft or their signal flares. They were out of food and out of water. They were sunburnt, exhausted, and significantly less hopeful than before. Sharks bumped against the bottom of the rubber raft and to survive, the Baileys ate raw fish and turtles caught with their bare hands, and drank rain water collected in their empty cans. But surprisingly, this turn of events also pushed Maurice and

Maryland closer than ever before. They played games together. Imaginary dinner party was their favorite. What a delicious roast beef, Maurice would comment when Marylyn handed him a strip of turtle meat, and those buttered rolls smell incredible lovely Marilyn would agree. She would jab her finger at Maurice's ribs, poking through his skin, but save room for dessert. I

think it's a lemon tart. On June thirtieth, over a year since the Baileys had set sail, and nearly four months after the Orland sank, a South Korean fishing boat spotted a piece of debris floating on the surface. The Baileys had done everything they could to flag down the ship, but they were weak with malnutrition and they were out

of flares. Since becoming stranded on the open sea, seven ships had passed Maurice and Maryland by, and as this fishing boat, the eighth ship passed through the Bailey's lost hope, But then the fishing boat turned around and it headed straight for them. When the Baileys were finally pulled aboard, they were skeletal. Each of them had lost approximately forty pounds and were covered in sores from the disintegrating rubber

raft and more than that. After months trapped in four square feet of space, they were unable to stand, but what they could do was eat and finally enjoyed the real food they've been dreaming of while scarfing down raw turtle meat for the past few months. Their first proper meal was a bowl of warm noodles and a mug of sweet hot coffee. It was the best thing either of them had ever eaten. No one would blame the Baileys if they returned home to England and vowed never

to lay eyes on the sea again. But within two years of being rescued, they built a new boat, and they named it, of course, the orel In two. I hope you enjoyed today's guided tour through the Cabinet of Curiosities. This show was created by me Aaron Mankey in partnership with iHeart Podcasts, researched and written by the Grim and Mild team, and produced by Jesse Funk. Learn more about the show and the people who make it over at

Grimandmild dot com slash Curiosities. You'll also find a link to the official Cabinet of Curiosity's hardcover book, available in bookstores and online, as well as ebook and audiobook. And if you're looking for an ad free option, consider joining our Patreon. It's all the same stories, but without the interruption for a small monthly fee. Learn more and sign up over at patreon dot com slash Grimandmild, and until next time, stay curious,