A Letter from D.B. Cooper
On Nov. 24th, 1971, I hijacked flight 305, collected a 200,000 dollar ransom, and parachuted into the stormy Pacific Northwest night. You know me as D.B. Cooper. I purchased the ticket under the name of Dan Cooper. A newsman sent it out wrong to the press, and his typo—D.B.—stuck. Not that it matters.
I covet my mysterious fame in the history of American crime. It is all I have. For thirty-six years now, I have gone about my simple Florida life without a hitch.
Why that blog? --- I wonder if this isn't just a piece of fiction
A Letter from D.B. Cooper — Ten Car Train