Welcome back to So Supernatural. I hope you're ready for that special hour where you can put on your tinfoil hat and match everyone else in the room. So let's go. The topic of UFOs has fascinated me practically since childhood. The idea that there's some world out there beyond our own with its own intelligent life, its own technology, its own culture and history. It's incredible, especially if you take into consideration that they would have to travel light years to reach us. But I would be lying if I didn't say the idea of extraterrestrials terrifies me, too. I wonder a lot what would the arrival of aliens actually mean for us? Would they be harmless or would life as we know it come to an end? I honestly think it's that fear, that unknown that keeps so many people from taking UFOs seriously. Sure, there's the occasional light in the sky, a blurry photo of a strange hovering object. Ignorance is bliss, and it's easy for people to say, But no one ever has physical proof. But what if I told you they did? Today, I'm covering the Cash Landrum incident. In Dayton, Texas, back in December of 1980, two middle-aged women and a six year-old boy spotted the mother of all UFO events.

It not only changed their minds about the unknown, it created long-lasting bodily harm so severe that they sued the US government over it. Just a heads up, I will actually be coming to you next week with a huge surprise, so make sure you stay tuned. If you venture out of the big city of Houston, Texas, and take a 40-minute ride northeast, you'll come to a small little town called Dayton. It hasn't changed a ton in the last 40 plus years. Sure, maybe they added a Jack in the box, a subway sandwich shop. But for the most part, those buildings stand just like they did back when our story takes place, just a few days after Christmas on December 29, 1980. That night, 51-year-old Betty Cash picks up her friend, 57-year-old Vicky Landrum. Vicky's 6-year-old grandson, Kolby, is also there because she's his sole caretaker ever since his mom left the picture. Now, Betty and Vicky are old friends. In fact, they're working on opening a restaurant together. They're only about two weeks out from this open, so they have some business to tend to at the location. But after they wrap it up, Betty and Vicky go out looking for a little bit of fun, which to them means a wholesome game of Bingo.

They love it so much. They know all the good Bingo spots within a 20-mile radius of Dayton. But that night, so close to Christmas and New Year's, pretty much every spot is closed. So somewhere near the town of New Cany, they pull off for a bite to eat instead. Around 8:30 PM, they pay their bill and hit the road for home, ready to call it a night. Betty's behind the wheel of her newish Oldsmobile Cutlist Supreme, a car that she loves, and it navigates the backroads of Texas pretty well. Vicky is in the passenger seat, and little Kolby is in the front between the two of them. But this peaceful drive down a quiet two-lane road in a densely wooded area is about to take a turn. All of a sudden, the women see this plane headed towards Houston Airport, or at least they think it's a plane. The lights on this object are super bright and it's pretty dark, so they can't quite make out the shape from a distance. But they can tell that it's flying dangerously close to the treetops, so much so that they're feeling a little concerned. As they drive, I think it dips out of sight for a bit, but just as they turn around another bend, they see the lights again, almost right freaking above them.

And now they can tell this is no plane, not even close. This is a craft. It's a metallic diamond shaped and about the size of a freaking water tower. And it has this belt of blue lights around the center. Every few minutes, it spurts flames from the bottom, practically melting the road's asphalt in the process. Now, the women realize they can't keep driving forward. There's no way they're passing under this thing. And Betty tells Vicky she's afraid to turn the car around because she thinks that the wheels might get stuck in the mud along the side of the road. And then, just as they're having this conversation, the engine on Betty's one-year-old Oldsmobile just dies. In the dark, in the silence, Vicky turns to Kolby and says at one point, That's Jesus. He won't hurt us. Now, I know might seem like an unrealistic response to some. But remember, we're in a small Texas town in the 1980s. Ufos aren't exactly top of mind for two ladies who attend church every Sunday. They're convinced whatever this thing is, it's got to be a sign from the heavens. I mean, for all they know, it might even be the second coming of Jesus Christ himself.

So Betty and Vicky put on their bravest faces. They order Kolby to stay in the car and they get out. Like, surely this is what they're meant to do, what God or this thing wants them to do. But just as the two women step out, the object starts making this otherworldly beeping sound. It's unlike anything they've heard before. The beeping fades into this dull, persistent roar, almost like the hum of a train engine. And then those flames start back up again, scorching the asphalt in front of them, creating this incredible heat. And it's at that point when Vicky is like, Nope, this is starting to feel like the fires of hell, not so much heavenly. So she's out. She races back to the car and into the passenger seat. But the inside of the car is just as hot as the outside. When she puts her hand on the dashboard, she notices that the vinyl is actually melting, so much so that when she touches it, it leaves an impression of her hand on the dash. Now, mind you, little Colby is inside the car, practically frozen in fear. And meanwhile, Betty is still out there.

She's standing there completely frozen, almost like she's in this trance-like state, and she's unable to take her eyes off the craft, even though Vicky is yelling Betty's name, begging her to come back and at least seek shelter in the car. And it takes a few seconds, but she does eventually snap out of it. She races back, goes for the door handle, and says it nearly fries the skin off her hand. The metal is that hot. But there's no time to think. She shoves her hand in the pocket of her leather jacket it and uses that to pride the door open and get inside. Right as she does, the craft starts ascending higher over the trees. The further up it goes, the more things start to cool down inside that car. And once it starts slowly moving away from them, the engine on Betty's Oldsmobile miraculously starts working again. But that's not even the strangest part. As they're watching this thing meander away over the treetops, they start hearing another roaring sound. This time it's a helicopter. And then another, and another. It's almost like a sworn of bees returning to the hide. I mean, they count as many as 23 of these things in total, and all of them are flying low enough for Betty and Vicky to make out the United States Air Force markings on them.

And we're not just talking any helicopter. It is the serious kind. These are the Chinooks with the tandem rotors, the ones that you rarely see lying around. But when you do, you know someone means business. Betty and Vicky are just baffled by the whole thing, mainly because they can't tell whether these military copters are either chasing off or escorting this US FFO through the skies. But either way, before long, they're out of sight. When Betty looks at her watch, she realizes that the entire encounter only lasted maybe 15 minutes or so, but it feels like they've been out there in the woods forever. Now, it's hard to believe someone just getting into their car and driving home after something like this, but what else do you do? That night, she and Vicky and Colby, who is safe but probably terrified, they all ride the rest of the way in silence. But the ladies do mention one thing to each other. Let's never repeat what we saw here tonight to anyone. I mean, even with a melted handprint on the dash, who's going to believe them? Well, it turns It turns out that's a pact that they could only keep for so long.

Betty drops Vicky and Colby off at their house and says good night at about 9:50, knowing darn well nobody's going to be getting any sleep that evening. And it isn't just the adrenaline that's keeping them awake. Almost immediately after Betty parks her Old Mobile in her driveway, she starts feeling these flu like symptoms. And really, it comes out of nowhere, the sweating, the headaches, the constant vomiting. And it only gets worse. In the morning, Betty wakes up with these blisters all over her face and scalp. She looks like she spent days in a tanning bed. I mean, imagine the worst sunburn of your life and then triple it. And back over at the Landrum household, things aren't going much better. Vicky and Colby also have these flu-like symptoms. They're a little milder, though, and without the sunburn part, which, if you think about it, makes sense. I mean, Vicky rushed back to the car before Betty did, and Colby never left it. And maybe because of that, they did bounce back two days after the incident. But not Betty. She seems to be getting worse and worse as the weeks go on. Those flu-like symptoms persist.

Her face swells up to the point where she can't really even open her eyes, and her hair starts falling out in clumps. Now, from what I can tell, she lives alone, so Vicky insists that Betty come over to her house so she can take care of her. But on January fourth, which is six days after the encounter, Vicky realizes there is no nursing Betty back to health. Regardless of how wild their story sounds, they need to get Betty to a hospital. Stat. Now, Betty still tries to keep the details of that night a secret, even from her doctor's. She does this for the first 12 days that she's in the hospital. She doesn't say a peep about a UFO because she knows how absurd it sounds. It's actually not until Colby comes to visit that he spills the beans, and that's when they start to have an idea about what Betty really went through. Finally, then she confesses to her medical team. She tells them Right before her symptoms started, she had a close encounter with an inexplicable flying object. It's not totally clear whether her doctors believe her, but I know they move her to her own private room and slap a biohazard sticker the door.

Whatever's going on with Betty, they sure as heck don't want it spreading. After this, she's hospitalized three different times in just under a month. And in all that time, Betty's doctors can only come to one conclusion. She seems to be suffering from radiation poisoning, the open sores, the skin burns, the hair falling out. It's the only thing that makes sense. And they are convinced she came in contact with something, right? Even if it's radiation like they think, To be this bad this quick, she had to have been within close proximity to something that you don't see around these parts every day or really ever. And if anyone is questioning her story, she points to her car as more proof. The one-year-old Oldsmobile has its own share of problems now. After that night, the radio and the clock on this almost new car just stopped working. The engine's got issues still, and the plastic that covers the exterior light melted. It. Plus, it reeks of burnt metal. Not to mention, Vicky's handprint is still clearly stamped on the dashboard. I mean, Betty's new car is a mess, barely drivable. Something heated it to a temperature well beyond a hot summer Texas day, and this happened in the middle of December.

And speaking of the car, while Betty's in the hospital, Vicky offers to go file a police report. I mean, I'm not sure if this is covered under any insurance policy, but I mean, what else are you going to do? But there's a problem. When she goes to the police, she's passed around like a hot potato. She calls the Dayton police who tell her to call the National UFO Reporting Center in Seattle, Washington. And then they pass her on to another civilian group called the Ariel Phenomenon Research Organization. They're the ones who finally get her in touch with someone who can help. A former NASA engineer named Jon Schusler. Jon makes the trip down to Dayton to head up his own investigation into the matter. And when he starts questioning locals about that December night, he finds out that Vicky, Colby, and Betty weren't the only ones who saw something odd. 52-year-old Nelly Zadeck was driving with her son and daughter-in-law 20 miles east of Dayton when they saw a diamond-shaped craft. That was within a 30-minute window of Betty, Vicky, and Colby's encounter. An oil field worker named Jerry McDonald saw too. He was out in his backyard when he spotted what he thought was a blimp in the sky.

But with a longer look, he realized it was a diamond-shaped object shooting bright blue flames from its undercarriage. Off duty, Dayton Police Sergeant Lamar Walker and his wife were driving down the same street as Betty and Vicky that night when they spotted the team of helicopters. They thought their National Guard was on a training exercise until they realized they had their spotlights pointed towards the ground, clearly looking for something. All told, there were about 10 people who reported seeing this diamond, and then eight people who spotted the helicopters after. John also speaks with other local UFO investigators who say they visited the scene of the crime right after December 29. They found what looked like a few scorched trees, and it appeared as if the road had been very recently paved over. So John digs into that fact, and he discovers that around 6:00 AM on the morning after the sighting, there was a huge team of people out there laying new asphalt. And listen, I don't know how things work where you live, but God help us here in Indianapolis. I have killed a tire or two in potholes that last for seemingly I mean, what feels like a lifetime, at least a year.

You're telling me someone happens on this road, TBD if it's even officially been reported, and poof, 6 AM, the road has new pavement. Come the freak on. So between Between John's involvement and the news of Betty's condition, it doesn't take long for reporters to catch on to this story, and soon enough, it's getting national exposure. When Betty is questioned, she makes it clear that even she is incredulous about the whole thing. Betty said, and I quote, I've never believed in UFOs. I was the first one to laugh. Now I'm afraid to look up. Who could blame her? The event ruined her health. I mean, heck, it ruined her life. In the month following her release from the hospital, Betty had to leave Texas and move back in with her mother in Alabama just so she could have someone help take care of her full-time. But even with all of this, Betty still had a hard time believing her experience was caused by little green men. She and Vicky feel that the most possible scenario is that this unidentified flying object was some government technology, particularly because when they played it over in their minds, they felt convinced about those helicopters.

They weren't chasing that thing. They were, in fact, escorting it. Now, if a conspiracy wasn't brewing already. It was about to be. Because when the US Army press officer for the local Fort hood base is questioned, he says that none of their aircraft were dispatched that night. And he says he looked into other Texas, even Louisiana bases, but they knew nothing about these choppers either. In fact, he tells the press, I don't know what it could be unless there's a super secret thing going on and I wouldn't necessarily know about it. Eventually, even Lieutenant Colonel George Seran, with the office of the Inspector General for the US Army, chimes in. He says that he's looked into it and he can't find any evidence that the helicopters even belonged to the US military. Meaning, either the strategy is, deny, deny, deny, or whatever they were pursuing was so top secret that it even went beyond the clearance of the Inspector General. Well, know what was top secret back then? Aliens. No one is talking about what happened. Local authorities can't do squat as far as an investigation goes, and it's like everyone is just shrugging their shoulders and going, Well, that was weird.

Anyways. But of all people, guess who actually gets to the bottom of this? Fricken Vicky Landrum herself. It's by complete coincidence. Well,. So get this. It is now April 1981, four months after the incident. Vicky's grandson, Colby, is now seven, and he's developed a fear of helicopters ever since what happened. Duh, so would I. So Vicky takes him to the Future Farmers of America Livestock Show in Dayton to see a Chinook on display, the same helicopter that had been escorting the craft that evening. She's hoping that maybe if he can see it up close, he won't be so afraid anymore. Now, there's a pilot there with the Chopper who's chatting up all of the locals, letting them take a peek inside the cockpit. And while he's showing people around, Vicky hears him say something like, Oh, I I'm back. I was actually in town a few months ago. I was flying over the Dayton area because I was called to deal with a UFO. And obviously, Vicky's ears perk up because here is someone who may be directly connected to her sighting, someone who might even be able to validate it, provide some answers for once.

So she introduces herself and says that she is so relieved to meet him because she was one of the witnesses of that UFO sighting. She tells him even about the illnesses she suffered after it happened. And in that moment, the pilot's face turns ghost white. He ushers her and Kobe out of the helicopter and basically refuses to say another word to them. That was it. But Vicky kept trying to push. She knew what she saw. She knew there was truth there. Green men or government, honestly, at this point, they didn't care. They just wanted some explanation. I mean, from Betty's perspective, she is now drowning in hospital bills. So if her government wasn't going to offer her an explanation, the least they could do was pay her health care bills. So the two women wrote tirelessly to senators and congressmen. They made it clear that they were not going away. Whatever happened that night had to have had some government tie. I mean, they saw the helicopters. And after eight long months and a long line of dead ends. In August, Vicky finally got a call from Air Force officials. They were ready to sit down and talk.

Betty and Vicky are told to report to the Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas. There, Air Force officials are willing to hear them out and see if they can help in any way. So it seems like they're prepared to take some responsibility for the whole event. During their interview, Air Force officials appear to take their account seriously. They even help Betty and Vicky fill out some damaged claim forms, and they advise they seek out a civil attorney and say they'll be in touch. The whole transaction they have is pretty clinical. Betty and Vicky don't get many answers about their experience, but at least they feel heard. The question becomes, well, what now? A month after that interview, the Air Force sends the Texas Department of Health's Bureau of Radiation Control. Yes, this is a thing. They send them out to the site of the encounter. They scan the area for any residual radiation, but they say they don't find any. Now, maybe that's because nine months have passed since the sighting. Now, even during this, Vicky and Betty don't have any idea what's going on behind the scenes. So they do as they're told, and they hire an attorney to help them with their lawsuit.

They choose a guy named Peter Gersten, and Peter is, I don't know, let's just say unconventional. He loves taking on these UFO cases. And if that doesn't spell quirky, he later becomes famous for announcing that he's going to leap from the Bell Rock in Sedona, Arizona at the moment of the predicted 2012 Mayan Apocalypse. Spoiler, he chickens out. It doesn't happen. Now, Peter, to some, might not seem like the most reputable attorney, but he's helping them file for $20 million in damages, so he seems worth the risk. Now, as these cases often do, it crawls through the legal system for the next several years while Betty fends off creditors trying to collect on her growing hospital bills. And eventually, in August of 1986, they hear something back. The US district Court judge says, They couldn't find any evidence those helicopters Betty and Vicky saw that night belonged to the United States government. And there's no documentation to support that the diamond-shaped craft that they witnessed belonged to the military either. So after waiting years on baited breath, Vicky and Betty learn that their case has been dismissed. They won't be seeing a dime. The end.

It's a disappointing way for this case with so much evidence to end because you can feel it, right? The government ick. Someone has to know what the F happened that night. So who's lying? Now, over the years, skeptics were happy to come out of the woodwork to pick apart Betty and Vicky's story. A lot of those people focused on the small discrepancies, like the fact that Betty and Vicky had a hard time recounting exactly where on that stretch of road that they saw the craft. But I don't know about you. I've driven through the woods before. At some point, it all starts to look the same. Not remembering the exact mile marker isn't a cause for doubt, in my opinion. Others had a problem with the fact that Betty first told John Shusler that she couldn't make out what the craft looked like, but then later told Air Force officials that it resembled a giant diamond. Again, not that odd to me, considering that she might have been going off what Colby and Vicky remembered it looking like. Unfortunately, those skeptics will use these tiny holes the narrative to cast doubt on a witness's experience, sometimes coming up with stories that feel even less likely to me than being a real UFO.

For example, in 1994, a debunker named Stuart Campbell offered his frankly uneducated theory that the women saw the reflection of a star on the road. Can you feel my eyes slowly blinking? I can't with this guy. There's so many problems with this, aside from completely discounting their medical conditions after the fact. Some even made more offensive claims stating that the women might have been faking their conditions with some supernatural Munchausens. A doctor named Gary Pozener spent a lot of time looking for reasons to account Betty and Vicky's testimony. And he claimed, like how a religious zealot might fake the symptoms of the stigmata, Betty had falsified her radiation burns with a sunlamp. But you know what he didn't do from what I can tell? Actually speak with Betty directly, get a first-hand account of her experience, her symptoms, what she went through. Instead, he looked at Betty's medical records and wrote the whole thing off. And as more evidence of Betty faking, Pozner argued this. If Betty had been exposed to enough radiation to cause her hair to fall out, burns, lesions, vomiting, et cetera, it would have required a dose so big that it would have killed her.

But Poesner didn't consider was it practically did. After the incident, Betty was never able to work again. For the next two decades, she was under the constant supervision of doctors who felt confident that Betty had undergone an otherworldly amount of radiation. And at the age of 69, she died after battling cancer. Ironically, it was December 29, 1998, the 18th anniversary of the sighting. Vicky has also since passed away in 2007 at the age of 83, which means that the now-grown Kolby carries the torch. To this day, he is still seeking answers for what happened that chilly December night. And it's not too late for those answers. I mean, you might have missed it because it was tucked nicely in the news during the chaos of a global pandemic, but the government has openly acknowledged that there's unidentified flying objects in our airspace. Apparently, UFOs are here. They've been here. So what are they still hiding? Are they still denying simple things like the ownership of helicopters. I mean, that's the wild part to me. Like, okay, you said you weren't responsible for her medical bills because it was an alien, and the government doesn't cover fault by aliens.

But to be like, No, we weren't there. Come on, guys. How long can we deny that there is something going on in our skies, human or not, that the government doesn't want us privy to? They're starting to talk about it, but there is so much still not being shared. I don't know if they think the truth is too scary, but ignorance isn't real bliss. I don't know about you, but I want to know what's out there. That is it for today's story. I hope you loved it as much as I loved telling it. And again, I am so happy to be back with So Supernatural. And I actually have a big surprise for you next week, so make sure to tune in and find out. You can find all the source material for this episode on our website, sosupernaturalpodcast. Com, and be sure to follow the show on Instagram. @sosupernaturalpod. I really want to hear from you guys, what stories are you into? What folklore have you heard that you want to hear about on this show? Dm me. So Supernatural, an audio check original, produced by Crimehouse. Join us next Friday for an all-new episode.

So what do you think, Chuck? Do you approve?