In Our View: Cooper Case Still Intrigues

D.B. Cooper, apparently, has made his final escape. The FBI announced last week that it was closing the book on its search for one of the United States’ most infamous criminals, suspending an investigation that endured for 44 years, seven months, and 18 days.

From the moment he hijacked an airliner and escaped with $200,000, the man known as Cooper has generated international intrigue. And, because he jumped out of the plane while it was over Southwest Washington, he has always held a particular interest for people in this part of the country. In a morbid way, we have long considered him to be one of ours, a fact that was reinforced in 1980 when 8-year-old Brian Ingram found $6,000 in rotting $20 bills on the Columbia River shore near Vancouver — money that was confirmed to have come from Cooper’s bounty.

In truth, Cooper likely was killed by his parachute jump. In truth, he was simply a criminal who endangered a plane full of passengers. But it is human nature to be fascinated by cads and rogues, particularly when they have an air of mystery about them. Cooper has captivated amateur and professional sleuths for generations while becoming a cult anti-hero.

“The mystery surrounding the hijacking of a Northwest Orient Airlines flight in November 1971 by a still-unknown individual resulted in significant international attention and a decades-long manhunt,” FBI officials said in announcing the closure of the investigation. “Although the FBI appreciated the immense number of tips provided by members of the public, none to date have resulted in a definitive identification of the hijacker.”

On Nov. 24, 1971, a man calling himself Dan Cooper boarded a plane from Portland to Seattle after purchasing a one-way ticket. He sat in the back and handed a flight attendant a note saying he had a bomb, showing her a suitcase filled with wires. He demanded $200,000 and four parachutes, which were provided upon touchdown in Seattle. He released the passengers and some of the flight crew, then demanded that the plane fly toward Mexico City at a low altitude. Somewhere between Seattle and Reno, he lowered the back staircase and jumped into the realm of legend.

Even the name has become the stuff of conjecture. Some stories say that initial media reports erroneously identified him as “D.B.” Cooper rather than “Dan,” and the name stuck; others say the name followed an FBI interview of a local TV reporter named D.B. Cooper, who was cleared.

Over the years, federal officials investigated thousands of people who might or might not have fit the profile of the hijacker, but they could not come up with a positive identification. That has only intensified the mystery. Just last week, the History Channel aired a four-hour documentary that purported to link a 72-year-old man living in the San Diego area to the hijacking, which quickly led to a statement from officials: “Every time the FBI assesses additional tips … investigative resources and manpower are diverted from programs that more urgently need attention.”

That points out the logic behind halting the investigation, but it doesn’t end the curiosity. As author Geoffrey Gray, who has written about the case, told the Associated Press: “The fascination with Cooper has survived … because he was able to do something that not only captured the public imagination, but also maintained a sense of mystery in the world.”

That sense of mystery will continue. In the official view of the FBI, D.B. Cooper has literally vanished into thin air.