Welcome to Aaron Manke's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of iHeartRadio and Grimm and Mild. Our world is full of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities. A good magic show will leave you wondering how the magician pulled off their tricks. Often the answer is sleight
of hand or optical illusions. But there are some tricks that even world class scientists haven't been able to explain. In nineteen seventy three, a team of scientists at the Stanford Research Institute let a man down a hallway of a research lab. He had flown in from overseas for us a very special set of experiments. The researchers took the man to a small windowless room at the center
of the building. It was double walled and acoustically and electrically shielded, which meant that no sound, lights or signals could get in or out of the room. They sat the man down at the table and gave him a pencil and a piece of paper, and then they locked the door behind them. As they left, the scientists gathered in a room down the hall, flipped through a dictionary and selected a word at random brunch. Then one of the scientists took up a pencil and drew a bunch
of grapes. Once he was done, he took the drawing down the hall and taped it to the outer wall of the experiment room. There was no way that the test subject could see the drawing with his own eyes, but he claimed that if it was physically close enough to him, he could see it in his mind's eye thanks to his skills and extrasensory perception. The scientists pressed the inner com button and told the test subject that
it was time to begin the experiment. He listened through a one way audio circuit as the test subject sighed and muttered to himself, and after a few minutes he called out that he was finished. The scientist unlocked the door and went inside the room, and to his absolute shock, the test subject had drawn a sketch of a bunch of grapes, almost identical to the picture the scientists had drawn moments earlier. This test subject wasn't just any old volunteer, though,
he was the world famous magician Uri Geller. He'd been brought there by the CIA to test his alleged psychic abilities, and he passed the test with flying colors. Over the following eight days, the experiment was repeated again and again with every possible variable controlled for, and the results led the researchers to a surprising conclusion Yuri did in fact have psychic abilities. The results were such a bombshell that
the CIA expanded their research into paranormal phenomena. They hoped to find a way to harness psychic powers and use them for intelligence operations. According to Yuri, he worked on multiple highly sensitive operations for the CIA. They sent him to the Russian embassy in Mexico to erase floppy discs with his mind. At another point, he claims that he was tasked with standing near someone reviewing a nuclear deal
and telepathically convincing them to sign it. More purported psychics were brought in for other high stakes missions, including helping the agency rescue American diplomats during the Iran hostage crisis, But much to the CIA's disappointment, they found that while alleged psychic powers can make for a good stage show, they weren't particularly useful for real world espionage, there was
too much potential for error. The Stargate Project, as the initiative was called, was shut down in nineteen ninety five with an internal review raising questions about its effectiveness, but the results of the experiments weren't called into dispute, and to this day no one has been able to explain how Uri Geller was a pat pparently able to read through walls, so maybe some of what we might call magic is simply yet to be discovered. Few people enjoy
the thought of dealing with a dead body. It's bad enough when the remains are human, but sometimes it's another creature altogether, a roadkill for example, or livestock maybe. But how in the world do you manage when the carcass
belongs to a whale? Well, one method is towing, which requires a barge, trucks with heavy lifting capacity, and occasionally helicopters to guide the animal out onto boats and then out into deeper water where it's dumped, although that depends on the tides and how much beach there is to work with. If that is impossible, say when the whale is already decomposing, well, then a hole is dug in
the beach and the whale is buried right there. And if the whale is too big to be buried, then the carcass is dismembered by chainsaw and removed piece by piece onto waiting trucks. But sometimes a more unusual method is required. Take for instance, the case of the whale that washed up on a beach just outside of Florence, Oregon, a November ninth of nineteen seventy, a day that lives in wretched, stinky infamy. This behemoth that had washed ashore
was an eight ton sperm whale. It rotted quickly too, causing a stench that could be smelled far from the beach. The Oregon State Highway Division was tasked with removing the carcass before it became a public health emergency, and the solution that they proposed why using TNT. Of course, you see, the Highway Division didn't have the heavy equipment needed to toe the creature out to sea, and the tide made it
difficult to bury it. Due to decomposition, the whale was filling up with methane gas and hydrogen sulfi, which could rupture sending the noxious gases out to injure anyone who stood too close. Oregon officials contacted the Navy tube ask for guidance concerning a controlled explosion meant to simply break the creature up and scatter it at sea. Any fragments left on the beach could be finished off by scavengers.
At least that was the logic, and so three days after the whale appeared on shore, Oregon officials set the charge. People from all over the area gathered to watch the explosion, believing that they were standing at a safe distance from the carcass. Although they were wrong. There was a countdown and then a boom. It was a massacre. Chunks of whale were hurled one hundred feet into the air. Sand, bone, rotting,
flesh and blubber became dangerous projectiles. One large piece landed on a car and crushed its roof, while a torrent of viscera rained down on a horrified crowd. A crew from Katu, the local news station, caught everything on camera. The officials had grievously misunderstood the physics of an exploding whale, and instead of sending the chunks outward into the ocean, the explosion sent everything straight up. The public's reaction to
the explosion was as dramatic as the blast itself. Within hours, the grainy Katu footage was broadcast across the Pacific Northwest, spawning a wave of newspaper headlines that alternated between awe and criticism. The media frenzy forced state officials to confront the optics of their decision. Among the lessons learned that day, clear communication is absolutely essential when dealing with a public
safety concern. Safety notices and press releases are now released to the public leading up to carcass removal so that locals can steer clear of the area. Explosions are only to be considered as a last resort, and munitions experts and public health officials must be consulted at every step of the process. The whole thing illustrates the importance of a well thought out game plan, even in the face
of urgency. Although a positive outcome of this messy event was that it moved the local officials toward a more grounded method of dealing with public health emergencies. The curious story of the Florence, Oregon whale, with its torrent of blubber raining down on onlookers, and the policy overhaul it inspired shows us how a single dramatic event can reshape a government's system of dealing with problems, even the ones that are the most absurd. I hope you enjoyed today's
guided tour through the Cabinet of Curiosities. This show was created by me Aaron Manke 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 Curiosities 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.
