Hey, Weirdos, before we unleash today's macabre mystery, we were wondering, have you ever heard of Wundery Plus?
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They say Hollywood is where dreams are made.
A seductive city where many flock to get rich, be adored, and capture America's heart.
But when the spotlight turns off, fame, fortune, and lives can disappear in an instant.
Follow Hollywood and crime, the Cotton Club murder on the Wundery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
Redacted, Declassified Mysteries is a new podcast hosted by me, Luke LaMona.
Each week I dive into the hidden truths behind the world's most powerful institutions, from covert government experiments to bizarre assassination attempts.
Follow Redacted on the Wundery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
Wait, guys, serious question.
Did you get your invite to our next Weirdos audio book club?
No? Oh my god, I'm so sorry.
Well, consider yourself invited.
This time, you guys, we are covering the audible title Bluebeard, a suspenseful radio -style dramatization of true -life events leading to the capture of Infamous, the infamous Bluebeard Watson who conned and killed countless women in the early 1900s.
Join us and a special guest on Friday the 13th of December while we talk about this title.
Join the conversation on Instagram Friday, December 13th, Weirdos Audio Book Club.
Hey, Weirdos. I'm Alayna.
I'm Ash. And this is Morbid.
Hey there, brothers.
It's also morbid with a little bit of ambiance because it's lightly raining, which we...
I know I've... I'm an elderly person when I say this, but my goodness, we needed it.
No, we did. Oh my god, wait, isn't there a song about like, meeting the rains?
I miss... I miss you like the desert misses the rain.
Yes, you knew exactly what I was talking about.
And I miss you like the desert's missed the rain.
Is that J -Lo? No. Sorry.
No. Was that like the desert's missed the rain?
Hold on. Oh, and it goes, and I miss you.
I feel like I can picture that music video in my head right now.
I think the J -Lo one that I was thinking of was like...
Everything but the girl.
Is he released that?
Yeah, sometimes songs get jumbled in my head.
You guys remember, it's happened before.
Damn, it's... That's a bop though.
That is a bop. I'm gonna listen to that on the way home and I'm gonna listen to the J -Lo song.
I'll listen to one of those.
I don't like J -Lo. Well, yeah.
No, I don't like her as a person.
No, I don't like her songs either.
So there's really nothing there for me.
Wait, you don't like, don't be fooled by the rocks that I got.
You don't like that song?
I do not. What the fuck?
I remember it was on like TRL.
When I was, you know, for the TRL days.
And I remember that, but it was never...
Let me see how old I was when that song came out, because I feel like I remember bopping hard to that.
I like, oftentimes, I don't always, but the things I've seen her in, I like J -Lo The Actress.
Like The Cell, The Cell is such a film.
Oh, we gotta cover that on scream.
What the fuck am I doing here?
The Cell I've never seen.
The Cell is a WILD movie.
See, I like Monster in Law.
I haven't seen that.
Is that what that one's called?
Is that Mikey saying yes?
In Mikey we trust. I haven't seen that one.
You haven't seen Monster in Law?
No. That's a fun one.
I've seen her in The Cell.
What else have I seen her in?
I'm sure I've seen her in other things.
Jane Fonda is in Monster in Law, and Jane Fonda is everything.
Yeah, I haven't seen that.
Yeah. I'm trying to think of other J -Lo things.
I'm sure there's many that I'm missing right now that people are screaming, and I'm like, what?
A lot of them are rom -com, so it makes sense that you can't think of them.
What I like a rom -com every once in a while, it just has to be a very specific one.
Yeah. Those are all like the early -odds ones, and those ones are always fun.
Those aren't great.
What a random intro.
Very. We didn't plan to talk about any of that.
No, but it just happened.
We went from the deserts missing the rain to J -Lo.
Hello. Hello. Hello.
You know what? A random intro for a random episode.
Tell me everything.
Because this episode...
So this is about the mad trapper of Rat River.
You couldn't. You didn't finish that.
The mad trapper of Rat River?
I think I come from the Rat River.
From the Rat River.
I feel like this is a wild and random and very different tale, I would say, than we normally cover, but it's one that, unfortunately, people die during this.
This is not without death, not without murder.
Not without mystery, because at the end of this, there is still a mystery that's involved with it to this day.
Unsolved? It's unsolved.
But you think you know the answer?
There's a theory, and it's a pretty good one.
But there's still mysterious elements to this, which makes it very interesting to talk about.
Makes me think of your kids when they were like, the quack of mysteries.
The quack of mysteries.
There's mysteries in there.
The cave of mysteries.
Cave. Cave of blanch.
The blanch is like, wait, I have something to say.
Mysteries. So basically, his name was, and I should say in air quotes, Albert Johnson.
But it wasn't. Because we don't know his real name.
Oh, an alias. That is the name that people know him as.
Like you said, an alias.
This is a manhunt that was so wild and so long and so scary and so iconic that it honestly doesn't sound real.
I can't believe I've never heard of this.
It's a crazy one. So let's go back to when this all began.
Canada, like the United States, like down here, was hit really hard by the economic and social effects of the Great Depression.
Oh, yeah. It was a widespread issue, obviously, it wasn't just like in certain parts, feeling it.
You know, there was a ton of droughts, which wreaked havoc on the agricultural industry.
And that caused a ripple effect that by 1930 had put as much as 30 % of the workforce out of a job.
And that's huge. Yeah, that's a lot.
The economic shock and the hardships of the Depression was really, really like specifically hard on the residents of the more rural and remote parts of the country, because they were lacking, you know, like the social welfare structure that a lot of people in urban areas and more like well populated
areas were really relying on.
Yeah. And many of these people were self -sufficient.
And instead of taking any kind of charity or anything like that, they chose to seek out alternative means of employment in the small towns and villages and, you know, like military outposts in Canada in the north and west.
And in the summer of 1931, at the absolute peak of the Depression, a man calling himself Albert Johnson arrived in Fort MacPherson, which was a small remote village in the Northwest Territories about 650 miles from the nearest cities of Whitehorse and Dawson City.
So very remote. At that time, it wasn't super unusual for like random strangers to wander into Fort MacPherson.
It was usually they were like either on their way to or coming from the more remote parts of the area.
So it was kind of like a pass -through.
In those cases, it was the practice of the local RCMP agents to briefly question these people, the random people coming through.
Because, like, as journalist Barbara Rodin put it, they basically wanted to ascertain their plans and try to ensure that the person was equipped for life in the rugged north.
This was obviously about that person's safety.
They didn't want them wandering out into the mountains and just like, see you later, goodbye.
But it was also about resources because if somebody inexperienced was going out there to trap or hunt and they got stuck and needed help, it's going to cost a lot.
It was a lot of effort.
And the RCMP, you know, they didn't want to have to expend all those extra resources that they really didn't have at their disposal at that time on somebody who shouldn't have been out there in the first place, you know?
It makes sense. Makes sense, yeah.
On July 21st, 1931, the day that Albert Johnson got to town, the task of questioning the man fell to Constable Edgar Millan.
Remember that name?
He's going to come up later.
Writing it down. He was one of just three RCMP officers stationed in the area.
And Millan found him, you know, Albert Johnson, purchasing supplies in the general store.
And Johnson told the Mountie that he had come into the Arctic through the Mackenzie River system.
He had obviously, at this point, he had been made aware of Albert Johnson's presence from some of the local native trappers in the area.
And basically, the native trappers were saying that they believe this man was fucking with their traps.
Oh, essentially. And they had described him and everything.
So Millan knew Johnson was lying to him about where he'd been, because he was like, I know you've been fucking with those traps.
So I know you're not just coming in from the Mackenzie River system.
But he was kind of accustomed to dealing with people like this.
So apparently trappers and fishermen kind of guard their territories pretty closely because they don't want to avoid competitions.
So it's all a little bit of a game of secrecy and all that.
Right. And honestly, to Millan, it didn't really matter where Johnson had come from as much as where he was planning to go.
He was like, what? He was like, you going into my territory or no?
Like, what are you doing?
From the look at things, Albert Johnson was a skilled trapper and he honestly wasn't going to need and it didn't seem like he was really even going to accept any assistance from the RCMP.
So Millan didn't really press the whole thing.
He was like, I'm pretty sure he'll just go out there and we'll never see him again.
Yeah. He was like, that's ideal.
And Johnson was giving like super short, very curt answers to him and he wasn't making a lot of eye contact.
He was making it very clear to Millan that like, I'm an isolated person.
I live an isolated life.
I would like to keep it that way.
Leave me alone. He was like, leave me alone.
So Millan was like, cool.
So before leaving the store, he kind of left it alone.
But Constable Millan told Johnson, fine, whatever, whatever you doing.
I don't give a shit.
But he was like, if you're planning to do any trapping in the area, you do need to obtain a license.
Yeah. And you need to know that.
But Johnson was just like, whatever.
Now a week later, Johnson was back at the general store and he purchased a 12 foot canoe and some other, a ton of other supplies.
And the clerk behind the counter was like, hey, you might want an outboard motor for this boat.
And I guess Johnson flexed his arms and said, no, these are good enough for me.
Oh, no. So he's like an OG Chad.
Welcome to the gun show, baby.
This is all I need.
But you know what's crazy?
He was kind of right.
He wasn't really like over over zealous.
Yeah, he wasn't he wasn't exaggerating his abilities at all.
All right. Like this is well, you know what?
Still though, good for him.
It doesn't come off great.
Yeah. We love a humble king.
We love a humble king.
Now, after getting all the supplies, Johnson headed out to the canoe and began paddling downstream in the direction of the Rhett River.
Now he spent the rest of the summer and fall building a small eight by 12 cabin on a plot of land that he had staked out for himself about 70 miles from Arctic Red River.
And that's the Arctic Red River is where Millen and the other two RCMP officers were stationed.
OK. So he was either building that cabin and if he wasn't building the cabin, he was hunting and building up his food storage for the winter season.
He also spent a lot of time surveying the area.
He was getting to know where he was.
And during this time, he definitely learned where the trap lines were for local trap trappers where like like I said, they're very like territorial about their trap lines.
That's like where they set their traps.
So he made a point of learning that he would know where those were.
So it's not like he like accidentally stumbled upon their traps and like fucked them up like he knew he was like looking out for that.
OK. Specifically, William and I hope I said everybody's name, right, William for Trekwa, Jacob Drymeat and William Nerisu, which were all members of the local lucho tribe.
And I hope I said that right.
I looked it up several places.
Lucho trap. OK. Edgar Millen hadn't thought about Albert Johnson since he had left Fort McPherson in early like early in the summer when he had met him in the general store.
Right. So he wasn't even thinking about him, especially when Nerisu showed up at Arctic Red River Trading Post on Christmas Day to report that Johnson had been fucking with their traps.
Oh come on. So initially he was like what like I don't know who that is.
Now according to Nerisu, Johnson had encroached on their trap lines and in recent weeks he had been springing the traps and hanging them from tree branches.
It's like really fucking like yeah, he's being like deliberate about this.
And he was also making it very obvious that his interference with these traps wasn't an accident.
Like he could have said before it was an accident and nobody could really prove otherwise.
Yeah. He's hanging them from a tree.
Like he's being very obvious about it.
So then Millen was like, oh shit, I do remember this guy.
I remember that interaction I had with him.
And he remembered that he also hadn't purchased a trapping license before leaving Fort McPherson like he had told him to.
And he was like and I'm pretty sure he probably didn't get one anywhere else.
So not only was his interference a matter that was going to be taken seriously by the RCMP, but now he was also poaching and that was going to be a problem.
Yeah. So the next day Millen directed Constables Alfred King and Joe Bernard to travel more than 60 miles out to Johnson's cabin.
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And talk to him about what was going on.
He's got some accusations now.
Yeah. The two officers traveled by dog sled and arrived a little past 10 a .m.
on December 27th. And when they reached the cabin, they noticed that there was smoke coming from the chimney and there were snowshoes propped up by the door.
So it seems like somebody's home.
He's home. Because he also, he literally couldn't have traveled far without those snowshoes.
So they knew he was either home in there or he's like right there.
Yeah, like they literally came from by dog sled.
So that makes sense.
So King knocked loudly on the door and announced that they were there.
But no one replied.
Despite getting no response, the constables knew he was home and they definitely knew they he heard them knock.
So at one point, he had even watched them through the window and they saw him like, hey, it's you were looking for.
They were like, hi.
And he saw that they saw him and he just closed the curtains and that was.
That's moderately iconic.
Now, after spending an hour trying to convince Albert Johnson to open the door and they still got no response, the officers had to give up and walk back to their sleds and they didn't have any way of contacting Millan to tell him what was going on and that they had made this trip for nothing.
So King and Bernard decided to travel this shorter distance to the RCMP headquarters at I hope I'm going to say this, a clavic.
I looked that up many places as well.
A clavic. OK. Where they could obtain a search warrant for the cabin and then they could come back the next day with more officers.
So they were trying to do it on the up and up.
Yeah. And trying not to like waste too many resources.
It seems like let's just get and take too many trips.
Yeah. They could have never predicted how this would go.
I'm so I'm like, what's gonna happen?
You can't. It's bonk.
Also, for example, I'm just picturing him for an hour like, you know, in somebody's like, you know, in somebody's at your door, like they're going to sell you something and you're like, oh, I'm not answering the door.
What do you do for an hour?
That's at the end in a cabin.
Yeah, like a tiny like.
Yeah. What'd you say?
Like eight by twelve cabin.
Do you have a good book in there?
You gotta. Mm hmm. Damn.
Now, early in the morning on December 30, after obtaining their search warrant, King and Bernard left a clavic for Johnson's cabin.
This time they added more RCMP constables.
They added R .G. McDowell and Lazarus.
I hope I say this again.
Some of these names are really tough.
City Kindly. Lazarus is a sick name.
It's true. It is. The foremen reached the cabin around noon on December 31st and they went to the door, knocked, announced they were there again.
Smoke was coming from the chimney, so they knew he was inside ignoring them.
So King shouted that they had a warrant to search the premises.
And if Johnson didn't open the door, they were going to force it and enter anyway because they had the warrant.
Yeah. So they approached the door and they were coming from a side angle.
And King reached out to knock again.
And seconds later, a loud shot rang out.
Oh, no. And splinters shot in every direction from the door.
And Johnson had shot a shotgun blast out the front door and it hit King in the chest.
Oh, God. And it knocked him off the porch into the snow.
And McDowell and Johnson ended up returning fire with each other with pistols.
Right. And attempting to keep King down long enough so they could get him off to the riverbank out of the line of fire because he had just fallen back into the snow.
So they're like, we're not trying to get you shot again.
Exactly. But it was like crazy.
Like gunfight ensued.
Like barely missed McDowell at one point.
Like it was gnarly.
And the constables did manage to get back to the sleds at the riverbanks where they loaded King onto one of the sleds and like fled out of there.
King was bleeding like super badly.
Shotgun blasts to the chest.
Yeah, like close range too.
And they needed now to get back to a clavic to save his life.
That's where the doctors were.
And that sounds like it's not like a short distance.
They were 80 miles from where that is.
And the temperature was almost 40 below zero.
Oh, my God. And when they factored in the wind, it could drop as low as 90 below zero.
Sorry, where are we?
Holy shit, that's cold.
Damn. So going back to a clavic from this place, it would take a skilled outdoorsman with all of the things he needs.
Two days. Yeah, that makes sense.
Conditions. And that was like in, you know, ideal conditions.
Conditions were not ideal here.
Like not ideal. Anything but ideal.
Quite the opposite.
Their sled dogs were already exhausted from getting to the cabin.
The first trip, right.
And strong winds and snowdrifts had covered all the tracks that they laid on the way there.
So they would have to run through fresh, dense snow to get back.
Oh, my God. And despite that, McDowell drove the dogs like as hard as he possibly could just to save this man's life.
And they managed to get to a clavic in 24 hours.
Holy shit. Remember, they cut a whole day off.
Skilled outdoorsmen, two days.
Damn. In ideal conditions.
This is like a legend.
Yes. You would think it is.
Oh my God. I mean, you cannot understate how fast this was and how unbelievable and incredible it is.
In 1931, the Northern Territories were so remote.
And the route they traveled was like this winding, crazy trail too.
And it went over like steep banks and across frozen terrain.
I mean, they were hitting every kind of terrain on the way there.
It's not like it was a straight shot like down a hill or something.
Up a hill, down a hill, around the trees.
Yeah. Like winding everywhere.
In under any circumstances, the windchill would be the biggest challenge.
Because windchills gnarly.
According to author Dick North, quote, even with a parka, fluid from a running nose freezes in a man's nostrils.
And an ice film will collect on his eyelids.
Oh, imagine how uncomfortable that would be.
And you're flying through it.
Like at high speeds.
You must just be like blinking nonstop.
Oh, yeah. So apparently, in order to stop frostbite from happening, they all so there was four men on the way with King.
All of them took turns rubbing King's face to keep him warm to prevent frostbite.
So they would all just be like rubbing his face.
And this man has been shot in the chest by a shotgun.
And he was alive when they got there the next day.
Holy shit. I wonder if those conditions helped keep him alive somehow.
I know. You wonder if it helped somehow.
They immediately when they got there, rushed him to the hospital and he was taken into surgery by the resident doctor, J .A.
Urquhart. Hey. Which immediately I have, like we have like ancestry that like went over to Nova Scotia in Canada.
So I'm like, am I related?
You can update you.
I'm gonna look at my shit.
I'm gonna have John take a looksy but I was like, Oh my God, that's not the same.
I never see it in any of these.
I know. But the bullet had entered through the upper left side of King's chest and exited through the right and had missed all vital organs.
Like miraculously. I just think of that.
Bring it on. Think you've been touched by an angel girl.
You've been touched by an angel girl.
That's crazy. While he recovered in the infirmary, the other three returned to RCMP headquarters to report what the fuck had just happened at that cabin.
Yeah. Now, in a clavic, Inspector Alexander Ames had 11 RCMP officers under his command, and he had three additional constables where they just were at the Arctic Red River outpost.
That's where they initially were.
Ames selected his nine most experienced officers to go back to the cabin and then sent word to Red River instructing Milan and his two constables to meet them at the mouth of the rat river.
Okay. Because Milan was from the beginning, remember?
And he was one of those three that was up Red River.
Yep. Now, the men set out for the cabin early in the morning on January 4th, 1932, and they made camp about eight miles from the cabin.
Their plan was to ambush Johnson and take him in with no shots fired.
That's ideal. They didn't want all this shit.
The next morning, two officers were sent ahead of the others to scout the cabin.
They found smoke coming from the chimney.
So he's home. So they made camp a little closer, and then the whole team met up shortly before noon on January 9th.
Once they got to the cabin, they spread out and surrounded the house while Ames shouted for Johnson to come out.
He shouted to him, King was still alive.
So at the very least, you will not be charged with murder.
Okay. There is still time to resolve this matter without trouble.
So he's really trying to talk him down like nobody.
I know you're probably freaking out because you shot someone in the chest with a shotgun.
Right. A literal man of the law.
Like out in the wilderness.
Have no fear. We can talk about it.
Like you didn't murder him.
So there's that. Why don't you come out?
Yeah. But no reply.
So instead, they were greeted with gunfire from inside the cabin again, kicking off what would be an 18 hour siege at the cabin.
I'm sorry, what? 18 hours.
How did it take that long?
How did they have that much gunfire?
It's wild. So initially, the officers tried to get close to the cabin, trying basically assuming if they could get inside, they could take Johnson down.
Stop the whole thing.
But anytime they would get close to the small front door, they would have to push back because it was endless gunfire.
And it was coming not from the windows, but from holes that Johnson had drilled near the floor in anticipation of them coming back.
That's on another level.
Yeah. This man is not well.
No. In fact, the angle where the gunfire was coming at them was like so perplexing to them because they were like, where the fuck is this coming?
It feels like it's coming out of the ground.
Like what is going on?
Seems like it was. And they only learned it later when they were able to search this place that he had dug a trench, a deep trench.
Motherfucker had a trench.
And he was in the trenches in his cabin where he is drilled holes into like near the floor where he can shoot from.
What the fuck? And he's in the trench firing at them from his position near the floor.
And from that position, it was impossible for the RCMP officers to hit Johnson because they couldn't get close enough to the inside and shooting through the windows from their position was pointless.
They were shooting through the fucking cabin.
The trenches. Now, given their location, the gunfire wasn't the only problem that they were facing.
At 45 below zero, they were having to continuously move just to avoid frostbite.
They couldn't stay in one position or they fucking freeze.
Yeah. And to make matters worse, they didn't know they were going to be involved in an 18 hour standoff tonight.
So they weren't prepared.
They weren't given enough food to sustain themselves or the dogs for a long period of time.
At the riverbank, they built fires and officers were rotating between watching the cabin and warming themselves by the fire.
And this kept the frostbite from happening.
But it didn't solve the other problems.
And Ames knew he had to come up with a plan quick or they were going to have to go back to a clavic and maybe risk losing Johnson.
So when the sun started to set and the temperatures really started to drop even lower, Ames ordered the men to retrieve the dynamite from the sleds and begin warming it in their coats.
The dynamite? When it was warm enough to use, Constable Newt Lang volunteered to toss the explosives into the room, which I was like, you know he was like me.
He was like, I'll do that.
I love that they didn't bring enough food for this ordeal, but they did bring dynamite.
Just in case. When midnight came and all the flares had gone out, Lang approached the cabin quietly and the other officers distracted Johnson by continuously like, like shooting the gunfire essentially.
And he lit the stacks of dynamite and tossed them onto the roof.
The explosion blew a big hole in the roof, sending the chimney flying in all directions.
No more fire. And then the chaos of the explosion, Lang burst through the front door and found himself face to face with Albert Johnson.
That must have been horrifying.
But according to Norris, who I mentioned above, and we will link in the show notes, for some unexplained reason, the Constable froze and failed to shoot him.
What? And in that moment, Johnson regained his composure and began firing a pistol in one hand and a sawed -off shotgun in the other.
So Lang stumbled back out of the cabin and went running back to the riverbank.
Lang. Lang. Lang. That's what I said.
Like what happened there?
Shoot him. You threw the dynamite.
You couldn't finish it off.
Come on. But the CMP agents held out until the next morning, January 10th.
And that's when Inspector Ames decided to make one last attempt at getting him the fuck out of that cabin.
Ames gathered the remaining four pounds of dynamite, bundled it together, lit the fuels, fuse and hurled the explosives at the cabin.
The explosion ripped the roof clear off the structure and caved several parts of the walls in.
Oh my gosh. So basically the entire cabin came down.
Yeah. On Johnson. That's right.
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From memoirs and sci -fi to mysteries and thrillers, from romance and well -being to fiction, Audible's carefully curated list in every category is the best way to hear 2024's best of the year in audio entertainment.
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So they were like, cool.
We'll catch them off guard because this whole place just blew up.
It should work. I have a feeling this will do the trick.
Aims and one of the other constables, Karl Gardland, rushed in and they had flashlights in their hands and they were basically expecting to find him unconscious at the very least, you know?
But when they pulled away the front door, Johnson was not only alert and like with it.
But he shot them. But he fired at them with his pistol.
We know. And he shot the flashlight out of Gardland's hands.
Who? How did we just pop off like this?
I don't know what this man's MO is at all.
All I know is he's just going crazy.
He's going bonkers.
Yeah, balls to the wall.
So this was clearly unexpected, this attack.
So it drove them both back to the riverbank where they had no choice but to load the sleds and get the fuck out of there and go back to Aklavik.
What? Because they're like, we've blown him up twice.
And he's still shooting.
What is going on? Motherfucker Michael Myers.
Back at the RCMP headquarters, the teams regrouped.
And we're like, we need a new strategy for getting Michael Myers out of this house.
What would it be? All you could do is literally light it on fire.
Several of the officers wanted to go back and firebomb the cabin.
They were like, let's just literally firebomb this thing.
But Ames wanted to take him alive.
He was like, I could see why.
On January 15, he sent the constables, Gardland and Milan back to the mouth of the rat river to keep an eye on the cabin.
But by the time they got there, Johnson had cleared out and was on the run.
Well, that makes sense too.
I'm like, guys, you blew the roof off the place.
You can't stay there very long.
But by then also, the news of King being shot and the siege of the cabin was already national news.
And this is all just over at traps.
He would have just got like a fine or something.
Like, it's like, holy shit.
Instead he murdered or tried to kill a cop.
Yeah. So this is national news.
Journalists are reporting all of these antics of Albert Johnson.
And they started calling him the mad trapper of rat river.
Whoever came up with that hats off to them.
Honestly, the mad trapper of rat river.
Motherfucker. Now, while the rest of the team were strategizing back at RCMP headquarters, Gardland and Milan were cautiously approaching the cabin to search it for things.
They wanted to find any clues, any plans he might have had.
And the cabin had been like obliterated, essentially.
Yeah, we just heard.
But according to Gardland, the agents found it hard to believe their adversary had survived the last dynamite blast.
Oh, so they thought he died.
They were like, maybe he like was in shock or something when we saw him and he popped up with fucking two guns.
It's like Billy Loomis out in these streets.
But honestly, he wasn't there.
There was little of value in the cabin.
They did find a lot of like a concealed load of supplies hidden high in the trees nearby, which was a testament really to his outdoor skills.
He had hedged tons of shit in the trees.
He just got shit in the trees.
He's wild. This is wily.
The constables also discovered Johnson's canoe still tied up at the river edge, so that meant that he had fled into the wilderness on foot.
On foot, yeah. Now, in January 16th, the search team departed Oklavik in the direction of the cabin.
And this time they were well prepared for what they knew could be a very extended search on very rough terrain.
Among other things, they had with them a two -way radio that would let them communicate quickly and communicate.
I just said, I'm so happy you went there because I was like, you can't skip over that.
Because I was going to say, quickly, communicate quickly.
Communicate quickly and I was a communicate quickly.
Wow, I loved that. This would help them communicate very quickly and easily with headquarters.
You know, if they need an emergency assistance because now we don't know what this dude is capable out in the streets.
I'm surprised anybody was even willing to go out at this point.
Yeah, I'd be like, fuck that.
I think I'm going to put my two weeks in and actually I need my one day.
Here you go. I'm going to try baking.
Like I don't want to do this.
Now at the same time, warnings were going out to everyone living in and around Oklavik, alerting them to any of the potential risks.
We don't know what this dude is capable of.
He was shooting everybody.
Well, Antey's eventually going to need more supplies too.
So, break in. Now as a result, many of the people living in the more isolated areas chose to stay in Oklavik while Johnson was captured.
Oh, okay. Now for nearly two weeks, the team of our CMP officers just scoured the area around the cabin looking for any signs of Johnson, any evidence of where he might have gone.
Two weeks, they were looking for him.
Unfortunately, it was so bitterly cold and the wind and subzero temperatures were making it so difficult to search for like long periods of time.
And then there was recent snowfall and heavy drifts that were covering any tracks that he could have left.
Right. So, it was like perfect for him.
But in late January, Ames and his team received a report of gunshots near Bear River.
Thinking it might be Johnson hunting for food, Ames sent Millen and three other men ahead to scout the area with a plan for them all to meet up together after this if they found evidence of him being around.
Okay. When they arrived, Millen spoke to several members of the local tribe who told him that they believed the man suspected B.
Johnson had holed up in a remote cabin nearby.
Because they said he could not have crossed over the hills under the current weather conditions.
I don't know, I think he did.
I think he crossed them hills.
One of the things they learned after this was, maybe don't underestimate Albert Johnson.
Yeah. Because, holy shit.
Exactly. So, with assistance from several native men, the four constables soon found tracks matching those of Johnson's very distinct snow shoes and followed the trail until they reached an area covered by this like.
Basically, it was like an area that was covered by a barricade that was like a natural barricade of trees and boulders and all that stuff.
And there were tracks leading in, but no tracks coming out.
So, the four constables spread out and approached the entrance very quietly.
Yeah, they better have.
But without warning, Johnson began firing at them from behind the tree line, pushing them all back.
Of course, he did. All four opened fire in the general direction from where the shots were coming from, but there was no return fire after that.
So, they were like, oh shit, we.
We got them. Incapacitated them or killed them.
So, they waited two hours before going to check the area because they were that nervous that he was just fucking with them.
You know that everybody on the banks was like, no, you go in.
No, you go. I'll just wait a minute.
We'll just wait a minute.
So, when they got within about 25 yards of the tree line, one of the constables, Noel Verville shouted, watch it.
And then dove for cover behind a snow bank as a rifle shot struck the ground exactly where he had been standing.
Oh my God. Literally yelled, watch it, dove out of the way, and it hit right where he was sitting.
And two of the other officers also scrambled for cover.
It's like an action movie.
It doesn't sound real.
No, it does not. But Millan stood his ground and dropped to his knee and fired three rounds in Johnson's direction.
Johnson returned fire and hit Millan in the chest.
Millan apparently bolted upright and spun around and then fell face down on the ground.
And two other officers provided cover fire for Carl Gardland.
I just did like a...
You literally did. I did the thing.
And they crawled towards Millan and tied the laces of his boots together and dragged him out of Johnson's line of fire essentially.
Why'd they tie his boots together?
So they could literally pull him by the boots.
Oh, okay. Because the other one, he's literally shooting at them.
Two officers are providing cover fire while he's literally trying to drag him out of the way.
Got it. Then when they were finally in a safe spot, Gardland turned Millan over and saw that the bullet had torn straight through his heart and had killed him instantly.
So when he bolted upright, he just fell and died immediately.
And that's why I said, remember Millan.
I know. What a brave fucking dude.
Yeah, he was like, fuck that.
I'm going to take this guy out.
Yeah. Now the remaining officers retreated into the woods away from Johnson's line of sight, and they built a lean -to to try to protect Millan's body from animals until they could return.
And then they made their way back to the campsite about a mile away.
The next day, one of them returned to the area to retrieve Constable Millan's body, while another returned to Aklavik to report about what had happened.
Why is this guy so aggro?
And they had to tell them that Johnson had escaped again.
Now, Sergeant Riddle made it back to Aklavik in a little over 24 hours on January 22nd and reported the death to Ames.
And Ames sent out the report across the RCMP wire.
And the news of Millan's murder and Johnson's third escape made headlines across North America.
A reporter from the New York Times called Johnson a two -gun hermit.
That's what they referred to as.
Two -gun hermit. While the press maintained that, like I'm glad like they definitely maintained like a pretty like somber tone when they were talking about the murder, essentially.
But it also made like the fact that he escaped three times and this was his third time escaping, it didn't make the RCMP look good and they were very open about that in the press.
And the longer he remained kind of like on the yam there.
On the yam. On the lamp.
On the sweet potato.
He was like, the more he was out there and the more he's on the run and the more he's escaping and the more these things get more and more like crazy and you know, dramatic and all that.
There was running a risk of him becoming a sort of like anti -hero among the anti -establishment residents across the territories.
It just like it was starting to turn the story a little bit.
I didn't even think of that.
And you don't want that to happen, obviously.
So not wanting to waste any time for that to happen, Ames radioed for additional assistance, specifically requesting a plane that could scout the area while the RCMP agents and volunteers took to ground searches.
In response, they got a small craft piloted by William May, who was a member of the Royal Flying Corps and one of the flying aces who successfully shot down the notorious Red Baron during World War One.
Oh wow. He is no joke.
And May wasn't just a talented and experienced pilot, he was literally like a living legend who'd helped to open up the Northern Territory.
So he was like a big deal.
That's incredible, yeah.
Unlike Ames' team on the ground, he could cover big like swaths of territory in a short amount of time in the plane and was immediately useful in ruling out the leads that ultimately provided false in the end.
Anybody saying like, I think I saw him, they were able to like get these out.
Now, while May looked for Johnson overhead, Ames' team was, you know, making their way to the site of Millon's murder on February 5th, but there was no sign of Johnson anymore.
From what they could tell, he had never emerged following the shootout.
Like he had never come back out of that like barricade that he had set up.
So you're probably like, then how the fuck was any there?
Yup. Oh, he had climbed the nearly 7 ,000 foot cliff.
Bitch. Yeah, he climbed a nearly 7 ,000 foot cliff wall to escape by traveling on the hard packed snow above the creek beds.
Does anybody else have those relatives that tell like crazy stories from like their days of youth?
And you're like, yeah, grandpa, like that's cool, that didn't happen though.
This guy? That feels like this.
Like, I'm like, what?
So I didn't come out of the front.
I just climbed a 7 ,000 foot cliff.
That's not really. That was not real.
That mother fucker is not real.
But he is. Yeah. Like, yep.
What? Yep. Yeah, he basically, he went like, so there was hard packed snow above the creek beds and it allowed him to move quickly and put a lot of distance very quickly between him and whoever was hunting him.
Also working, yeah, also working to Johnson's advantage was the fact that unlike the large group who required supplies and needed to manage animals that they were using, he was traveling alone.
Right. And he seemed to know where he was going.
So he didn't, he was just bopping away.
See you later. By mid February.
Shut up. This ordeal started in December you guys.
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By mid February, he was joined by several men from the Inuvialuit and Gwich 'in tribes.
And again, I apologize.
I'm not saying that as correctly as I should, but I looked it up, I promise.
They were familiar with the region and were just as interested in capturing Johnson as the RCMP.
Yeah, they're like, get this guy the fuck out of our territory.
They had a lot of help from these like Native tribes.
Like Riggle tribes.
Yeah, and on February 12th, one of the Native men reported that Johnson had been spotted snowshoeing on the west side of the Richardson mountain, which indicated that he traveled at least 90 miles since he was last spotted three days earlier.
Three days, 90 miles on foot by himself in no animal, like no dog sled, no nothing.
And many of these people, even like then these Native men who are helping them were like, this feels impossible.
Like this seems impossible.
Who is this man? So the grouping and making their way towards the west side of the mountain and on February 14th, Valentine's Day, May spotted Johnson's tracks from the air and it appeared he'd been traveling west.
So when the whole team finally reached the area, they realized Johnson was traveling across the frozen riverbed and his tracks appeared to be less than 24 hours old.
So in the two days that followed, the group continued following his trail, finding evidence of him along the way.
And the further they traveled, the more recent the evidence became until on February 17th, they discovered tracks and a campfire that was less than a day old.
So for nearly five weeks, the RCMP and volunteers had been tracking Albert Johnson and having repeatedly underestimated his outdoor skills and allowing him to slip away several times.
By the afternoon of February 17th, though, it appeared that it was Johnson who may be underestimated Ames's men.
Because in a reconstruction of the day's events that was later shown, a little before noon that day, Johnson had left the center of the river where he had been walking and climbed a tree on the bank to basically look out for where the search party was.
And he appears to have believed that the party was moving away from him to the south.
But in reality, they were approaching a bend in the river that would take them northward again.
Okay. So he was thrown off by what he was seeing.
Although Ames and the other trackers knew they were on the right trail, they didn't really know that they were this close to catching him even at that point.
It was a happy accident.
It was. Now, assuming he was in the clear, Johnson got down from the tree and continued following the creek because he thought they were going the other way.
And he turned a sharp corner and suddenly saw a search party about 300 yards in front of him.
Ruh -roh! So he quickly strapped on his snow shoes and made a break for the cover of the forest, firing at the group as he moved.
How many guns does he have?
He is a gun. At this point, I think.
Guns run through his blood.
I think. They sure do.
He can just create them at will.
Yeah. Now, Sergeant Earl Harrissey, who was leading one of the dog teams, jumped from the sled and grabbed his rifle and returned fire.
And in the exchange, Harrissey caught a bullet in the knee, which ricocheted off the bone and traveled upward through his elbow and into his chest.
I'm sorry. What the actual fuck?
Oh god, that's gotta be awful.
The damage. So while a few of the men were trying to help him, the remaining men pursued Johnson into the woods and they followed his tracks and chased him to one of the cover stations that he had made for himself.
Oh my god. Which is basically a ditch surrounded by short snow banks.
And it's possible he simply underestimated how determined Ames and the others were.
At this point. Or maybe he just thought he was going to get lucky or like he's got away before.
So why wouldn't I know?
Right. But by that point, there was really no chance he was coming out of there alive.
Like it wasn't happening.
Well, he's just one dude.
Like, he's gotta be fucking tired at this point.
You gotta get to the end of the road at some point.
Yeah. And as one team approached Johnson from the ice, another group circled around and took up positions behind him at a slightly elevated angle.
Johnson kept firing at the men on the ice.
And when he rolled onto his side into the ditch to reload, the men above him fired.
And one of the bullets hit him in the spine.
By the time they reached his position in the ditch, Albert Johnson had been shot seven times.
And it was the spinal wound that was the fatal wound that they killed him.
So why did he do this?
What's crazy too is they were aware that they had been fucked around by him before.
They'd been tricked by him before.
So they waited 10 or 15 minutes before even approaching his dead body.
I don't blame them.
To confirm that he was dead.
They were like, I don't even want to run up on this dude.
Like, I don't know what he's got going on.
Like Sydney in the end of Scream.
After five weeks of pursuing this man in the fucking treacherous, like Canadian sub -zero windshield, a billion percent fucking wilderness.
The manhunt finally came to an end here.
This is like a Discovery Channel fucking episode.
And throughout the whole ordeal, Albert Johnson never spoke a word to them.
From the time they appeared at his cabin knocking on the door until the time they shot him in that ditch, they never heard a word out of this man.
What a mysterious fellow.
For some reason that just gets me.
No, it does. That gets you.
She was silent. Because you just picture him being like, ha ha ha.
You will not touch me.
Fuck y 'all. Like, you know?
Like, just be like suckers.
I am a gun. And just like running away.
Yeah. Or just like yelling.
Nothing. Never made a sound.
Nothing. Just shot and ran.
Who is he? That's a great question.
So once they had received word that he was finally dead, May, who's in the plane there, he landed his plane nearby and Harrissey, who was the one that was shot, was loaded on board and taken back to a clavic where he was treated.
Oh, good. The following day May returned to get Johnson's body and the rest of the team traveled back by sled.
Now, the news of his death was honestly celebrated across North America as a fitting end to a scary and also pretty exciting adventure for everybody to follow on the outside.
It was like, it was like a story.
Like, this didn't feel real.
No, like a folklore, like I said.
Yeah, it just felt like this, like unbelievable tale that you were just following along with.
And you have to remember, too, the time period where this was happening.
Like nobody had anything.
So they were just like, whoa.
So they did have this story.
They did have this, exactly.
And then the days after that, several members of the team provided the press with descriptions of the manhunt and the shootout that sounded more like a fucking...
A tall tale. Like a film.
You're watching like a war film than something that really happened.
Sergeant Riddle told the reporter, Johnson fought desperately to the end, emptying his rifle and was in the act of reloading it when killed.
The accurate shooting of the posse had riddled his body with bullets.
And the more the story went around, the more it became a little embellished, as in when they were at least exaggerated.
In the New York Times, for example, May, the plane...
The pilot. The guy who took down the Red Baron.
He went from being an essential figure in the third phase of the plot to being a major player in the story the entire time who, quote, tried to bomb Johnson from his cabin, and he did not.
He's like, nah. He's like, nah, I just came in with my plane at the end.
He's like, what I did was enough, don't embellish.
You don't need to say it.
Now, once Johnson's body was returned to a clavic, it occurred to several people that the man who had been shot and killed by the RCMP didn't look at all like the photos of Johnson that had appeared in the press.
Shut up. One journalist said, You shut your mouth over there.
Pictures purporting to be of him were published in several papers, but they turned out to be that of a respected resident of Princeton, British Columbia.
That poor man. Yeah, so it seemed that, well, a few people in and around a clavic had spoken to Johnson at one point or another when he was passing through, at least for like a second, like the clerk and all that.
And they were given the name Albert Johnson by him.
Nobody knew who the fuck he really was.
That wasn't his real name.
So a journalist for the Edmonton Journal wrote, The secret of Johnson's true identity may never be known, and it may never be possible to clear up who he was or where he came from.
And why the fuck he did any of this.
In the early 20th century and before, it was like your identity, when you, it was a given.
Like if someone told you your name and your biological information, like biographical information, there was no way to confirm that information.
Yeah, they weren't like checking his Insta.
So you just assumed it to be true.
Like you say your name is that, that's your name.
Okeetoke. And I'm sure he had some kind of paper saying it, too.
And it's like, well, and it's especially true of the more rural regions like the Northwest Territories, because a lot of people go there to escape any modern life.
You know, so like you say your name is Albert Johnson.
That's your name. So it was when the trapper gave the name Albert Johnson to Millen when he first arrived at Fort McPherson the previous year.
That's what it was.
He assumed that was his name.
But if it wasn't Albert Johnson, who the fuck was he?
That's what I'm saying.
And also, like you said, why the fuck had he responded so aggressively to the RCMP?
Like he was just being confronted about trapping.
Yeah, like messing with people traps.
Illegal like messing with people traps.
Why the fuck did you respond like that?
There was no reason.
Unless he was wanted for other shit backs in the States, which is what I think.
So in the months that followed, the RCMP circulated the only known photographs of the man who they knew as Albert Johnson, which were taken after his death.
That's all they had.
In the hope that someone would recognize him.
Like, oh, that's my crazy ass brother.
And most like for a while, nothing was coming.
And then the first theory as to his identity came in late 1932.
When RCMP officials got a tip that Johnson strongly resembled a man named Arthur Nelson, who had been living in Dees Lake, British Columbia in the mid 1920s, but had traveled north to the Yukon and was last seen in May 1931.
Just a few months before Johnson arrived at Fort McPherson, they said that's when he had been traveling like into the Yukon.
That was the last time.
But other than that name, the fact that he had lived at Dees Lake, no one seemed to know really much about Nelson's life or his history.
So years later, author Dick North put forth his theory that Johnson and Nelson were in fact a North Dakota criminal by the name of Johnny Johnson.
So that those were actually aliases.
Like Johnny Johnson.
It's like John Jansen, my brotheheads.
So according to North, Johnson had been born in Norway in 1898 and immigrated to the U .S.
with his family in 1904.
There when they got there, they settled on a farm in North Dakota.
And in 1915, Johnson was involved in a bank robbery with another man and his partner was wounded and captured.
But Johnson escaped.
See, this sounds more like it.
Johnson was eventually arrested and served jail time in Wyoming in 1918, then returned to the farm in the early 1920s and then disappears from the record.
And it was around this time that Arthur Nelson appeared in Dees Lake.
Huh. And it turned out that North theory had also been the theory of the RCMP.
They requested Johnny Johnson's fingerprints from the U .S.
authorities I was going to ask to compare to those of Arthur Johnson.
Yes. But the test proved inconclusive.
Huh. Now Albert Johnson's identity came up again in 2007.
Shut up. When a team of filmmakers working on a documentary about this mystery got permission for their team of forensic experts to have Johnson's body exhumed in DNA testing done.
The examination of the remains revealed some interesting shit.
At the time of his death, Johnson quote unquote had been about 30, between 30 and 40 years old and was of Swedish ancestry.
He had spent a lot of time in the American Midwest in his youth and had suffered from scoliosis.
Which is interesting that he was shot in the spine.
Ironic. And that's what killed him.
Very ironic. Don't you think?
And perhaps most unusual that despite his like clearly like, you know, mountain man individualistic like drive like where he was like, I very isolated, very like, I live in the outdoors.
Yeah. DIY King. He had a DIY King.
Exactly. He had quote undergone sophisticated and expensive dental work for the period.
Really? Which is like not lining up.
Yeah, no, not at all.
And although they were able to learn a great deal more about, you know, the remains known as Albert Johnson, many of those things do like kind of support that theory of Johnny Johnson.
The forensic team were unable to conclusively give him a name.
What the fuck? And maybe it's because his like, I mean, his antics were so iconic, so scary, so intense, so gnarly.
His identity is so mysterious that that's, I think that's why we will just like, I can't give up on this.
The Mad Trapper, like who the fuck he is and why he did this, you can't let it go.
I will never let it go as long as I live.
And it has been a huge fixture in Canadian culture for more than 90 years at this point.
Like what the fuck is that about?
This is truly one of the wildest stories I've ever heard.
It's inspired countless songs, poems, novels, films, which I was like, where's, I gotta watch the film.
Show me the film. Yeah, like I might write a fucking song about this.
Let's go. Let's go.
I've never written a song before in my life.
I'll write a song. Let's go.
And still we don't conclusively know who this man was and why the fuck he reacted the way he did and how he was able to survive out there.
Well, so Johnny Johnson is the one who robbed the bank.
And the other two are aliases.
They're all the same person.
I feel like it's gotta be him because he's the only one they have.
And who knows what else he did?
Like what other criminal things would have popped up had the RCMP got him.
Yeah, you know, it's just like, but not knowing conclusively is driving me fucking nuts.
And what a way to go out.
What a way to go out.
In a ditch, reloading your gun after five weeks of running in the wilderness in Canada.
Yeah, when you could've just paid a fine.
Yeah, don't keep it that weird.
Don't keep it that weird.
Wow, what a tale. I love that story.
It's like, I don't love that people die along the way.
Like that is so deeply upsetting.
But but the actual story itself is riveting.
That is a riveting.
That's a nail biter.
Yeah, it had me on the edge of my seat.
I don't know my acrylics on.
Looking at this, it's crazy.
Damn. Yeah, wow. So that is the story of Albert Johnson, quote, unquote, the mad trapper of Rat River.
I'd like to say thank you.
You're welcome. And we hope you keep listening.
And we hope you keep it weird.
But definitely not so weird as this guy.
We already told you not that weird.
That's weird. What a frickin' tale.
I love it. This might be one of my favorite episodes.
Whoa. Bye. I love you.
I love you. I love you.
I love you. I love you.
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Hello, ladies and germs, boys and girls, the Grinch is back again to ruin your Christmas season with Tiz the Grinch holiday podcast.
After last year, he's learned a thing or two about hosting and he's ready to rant against Christmas cheer and roast his celebrity guests like chestnuts on an open fire.
You can listen with the whole family as guest stars like Jon Hamm, Britney Broski and Danny DeVito try to persuade the mean old Grinch that there's a lot to love about the insufferable holiday season.
But that's not all.
Somebody stole all the children of Whoville's letters to Santa and everybody thinks the Grinch is responsible.
It's a real Whoville whodunit.
Can Cindy Lou and Max help clear the Grinch's name?
Grab your hot cocoa and cozy slippers to find out.
Follow Tiz the Grinch holiday podcast on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.
Unlock weekly Christmas mystery bonus content and listen to every episode ad -free by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Spotify or Apple Podcasts.
