A Kidnapping, a Parachute Fail, America’s Unanimously Voted President, And America’s Only Emperor

From mass ritual suicide to mass hysteria, unanimous elections to ancient manuscripts that proved the Bible’s accuracy, February 4th has a body count — and a weirdness count — that spans centuries and continents.

Listen to “A Kidnapping, a Parachute Fail, America's Unanimously Voted President, And America's Only Emperor” on Spreaker.

Some dates on the calendar seem almost cursed — magnets for tragedy, strangeness, and the kind of stories that make you wonder if the universe is paying attention to its own patterns. Today’s episode covers a kidnapping that turned the victim into a criminal, a tailor whose fatal optimism was captured on film, a man who convinced San Francisco he was emperor, and a night when millions of people genuinely believed the planets were about to kill them. Pour your coffee carefully — and maybe grab a bathroom break. It’s a long one today, and I’m not pulling over just because you forgot to go tinkle before we started.

Welcome to Morning Weird Darkness

Welcome to the Morning Weird Darkness — a darker way to start your day. It’s Wednesday, February 4th, 2026. This morning: executions, a president elected before the country fully knew what it was, ancient scrolls that proved the scribes got it right, samurai who chose death over dishonor, and the day Bill Gates learned that not everyone loves Windows.

Strange Events of February 4th

Disasters from the Sky and Rails

February 4th has a way of collecting disasters — particularly the kind that fall from the sky or roll off the rails.

On February 4th, 1977, in Chicago, a routine commute turned into the worst accident in the history of the Chicago Transit Authority. An elevated train on the Loop — the system of tracks that circles downtown Chicago — rear-ended another train that had stopped on the tracks. The impact was violent enough to send cars careening off the elevated structure, crashing onto the street below. Eleven people were killed and 180 were injured. Investigators later determined that the trailing train had been traveling too fast and that the motorman had failed to respond to signals. The accident led to significant safety reforms, but for the families of the dead, those reforms came too late.

The 1997 Israeli Helicopter Collision

Twenty years later, on February 4th, 1997, Israel experienced its deadliest military accident. Two Sikorsky CH-53 transport helicopters were ferrying soldiers to Lebanon when they collided in mid-air over northern Galilee. All 73 soldiers aboard both aircraft were killed instantly. The collision occurred at night, under conditions that should have been routine. Investigations pointed to a combination of mechanical issues, communication failures, and the inherent dangers of low-altitude military flight.

Now, mid-air collisions between helicopters are rare, but not unheard of. In 2007, two news helicopters covering a police chase in Phoenix collided and crashed, killing all four people aboard. In 2023, two Army Black Hawks collided during a nighttime training exercise near Fort Campbell, Kentucky, killing nine soldiers. That same year, two tourist helicopters collided near Sea World on Australia’s Gold Coast, killing four. In 2024, two Royal Malaysian Navy helicopters collided during a parade rehearsal in Lumut, killing all ten crew members. And just this past December, two small helicopters collided shortly after takeoff in Hammonton, New Jersey, killing both pilots.

But the 1997 Israeli disaster remains one of the deadliest — 73 lives lost in a single moment, two aircraft from the same mission, in the same airspace, at the same altitude. The fact that it happened at all still defies easy explanation.

TransAsia Airways Flight 235

And then there’s 2015 — a crash that the entire world watched unfold in real time. On February 4th, TransAsia Airways Flight 235 took off from Taipei, bound for the island of Kinmen. Just seconds after liftoff, something went wrong. Dashcam footage from cars on a nearby highway captured the moment the turboprop aircraft banked sharply, clipped an overpass with its wing, and plunged into the Keelung River. Of the 58 people aboard, 43 were killed. The video — showing the plane cartwheeling past a taxi before disappearing behind buildings — went viral within hours. Investigators later determined that the pilots had shut down the wrong engine after one lost power, a catastrophic error that left the aircraft without sufficient thrust to stay airborne. It was a tragedy born of confusion, panic, and a few seconds of fatal decision-making.

Political Turning Points

But February 4th hasn’t only witnessed accidents and tragedies. It’s also seen some of the most consequential — and contentious — political decisions in American history.

Back in 1789, the United States did something remarkably calm for a brand-new country: it unanimously elected George Washington as its first president. Every single elector who voted picked him — no campaigning, no debates, no attack ads — just a collective shrug and a “well… obviously him.” At the time, the nation was still figuring out what being a nation meant, and Washington himself wasn’t exactly thrilled about the job. It’s the only time in American history everyone agreed on a president — and it took a guy who had to be talked into it.

Further down the timeline, 1861 rolls around, and the country demonstrates it has learned absolutely nothing about agreement. On February 4th, the Confederate States of America formally organized in Montgomery, Alabama. This wasn’t a quiet meeting — it was a full declaration that several states were done being part of the United States experiment and were starting their own version. Around the same time — and by “around,” I mean the same day — Jefferson Davis was selected as the Confederacy’s provisional president. The government formed and picked a leader in one go, like a startup speed-running its own collapse. There was confidence, ceremony, and speeches — all while standing on historical quicksand. Don’t quote me, but I’m pretty sure that experiment didn’t work out too well.

The Codex Sinaiticus and the Dead Sea Scrolls

Then there’s 1859, when something was discovered that would reshape biblical scholarship. In that year, the Codex Sinaiticus was found in Egypt — one of the oldest complete manuscripts of the New Testament, dating to the fourth century A.D. But the real test of biblical accuracy came nearly a century later. The Dead Sea Scrolls, discovered in 1947, date from 250 B.C. to 70 A.D. — centuries older than the Codex Sinaiticus. When scholars compared these ancient fragments to medieval manuscripts copied over a thousand years later, they found the text had been transmitted with remarkable accuracy. It was one of the most significant confirmations of biblical preservation ever discovered.

More recently, February 4th has continued to mark tragedy. In 2020, casinos in Macau shut down for fifteen days to try to stop the spread of COVID-19. Fifteen days to stop the spread — sound familiar?

February 4th. Collisions. Crashes. Political upheavals. Ancient scrolls that confirmed what we believed. If the date has a theme, it’s this: the air above us, and the institutions we build — none of them are as stable as we’d like to believe.

Horror Stories of February 4th

But not every horror on this date came from natural disasters or mechanical failure. Some of it was far more deliberate — and far more disturbing.

John Rogers: The First Protestant Martyr Under Bloody Mary

Let’s go back to 1555. England. The reign of Mary I — the queen history would come to call “Bloody Mary” — was in full swing, and her campaign to restore Catholicism to England had entered its most brutal phase. On February 4th of that year, a man named John Rogers became the first Protestant to be burned alive under Mary’s religious persecution.

Rogers had been a Catholic priest before converting to Protestantism, and he had helped produce one of the first English-language Bibles — a crime, in Mary’s eyes, that warranted death. He was brought to Smithfield, in London, where a crowd had gathered to watch. His wife and eleven children — including an infant — were present. When offered a pardon if he would recant his Protestant beliefs, Rogers refused. The fire was lit. According to witnesses, he showed no fear, washing his hands in the flames as if they were cold water. He was the first of nearly 300 Protestants who would be burned during Mary’s reign — but on February 4th, 1555, he was the one who set the precedent for what was to come. Public executions were meant to serve as warnings, but they often did the opposite — turning victims into symbols and martyrs… and crowds into witnesses who didn’t forget what they saw.

The Forty-Seven Ronin

A century and a half later, on the other side of the world, a different kind of death ritual unfolded — one rooted not in religious persecution, but in an ancient code of honor.

On February 4th, 1703, forty-six samurai knelt in the snow at four locations across Japan and committed seppuku — ritual suicide reserved for warriors who wished to die with honor rather than live in disgrace. These were the legendary Forty-Seven Ronin.

Their story began in 1701, when their master, Lord Asano, was provoked into drawing his sword against a court official named Kira inside Edo Castle — a grave offense that carried an automatic death sentence. Asano was forced to commit seppuku, his lands were confiscated, and his samurai were left masterless. But forty-seven of them refused to accept their disgrace. Led by Oishi Kuranosuke, they spent eighteen months pretending to have given up — Oishi even wandered the streets as a drunk to convince Kira’s spies no revenge was coming. Then, on a snowy night in December 1702, they stormed Kira’s compound, found him hiding in a charcoal shed, and beheaded him.

The shogunate faced a dilemma: the ronin had broken the law, but embodied the highest ideals of the samurai code. They were sentenced to die as warriors, not criminals. On February 4th, 1703, all forty-six committed seppuku simultaneously. They were buried beside their master at Sengaku-ji Temple, where their graves remain a pilgrimage site to this day.

Franz Reichelt and the Fatal Parachute Jump

From fire to blade to something stranger still. On February 4th, 1912, a man named Franz Reichelt arrived at the Eiffel Tower wearing a homemade parachute suit.

Reichelt was an Austrian-born tailor living in Paris, and he had become obsessed with the idea of creating a wearable parachute — something a pilot could wear that would deploy automatically in a fall. He had tested his designs by throwing dummies from his fifth-floor apartment window. Most of them had crashed to the ground. He had even tested one version himself, breaking his leg in the process. But Reichelt was convinced the problem wasn’t his design — it was the height. He needed more altitude for the parachute to open properly. The Eiffel Tower, he believed, would prove him right.

He obtained permission from the Paris police to conduct a test — on the understanding that he would use a dummy. But on the morning of February 4th, Reichelt arrived wearing the suit himself. His friends begged him not to jump. A security guard tried to stop him. Reichelt was undeterred. He climbed to the first platform — about 187 feet above the ground — stood on the railing, and told his friends, “À bientôt.” See you soon.

Then he jumped.

The parachute did not deploy. It wrapped around him, tangling his limbs, and he plummeted straight down. The entire fall — and the impact — was captured on film by newsreel cameras Reichelt had invited to document his triumph. He struck the frozen ground and died instantly. Officials later measured the crater his body left in the earth: about six inches deep. It was the first fatal accident at the Eiffel Tower, and the footage of Franz Reichelt’s final moments has been preserved ever since — a grim reminder that confidence and competence are not the same thing.

The Birth of George A. Romero

Speaking of people who would change how we think about horror — February 4th, 1940, marks the birth of George A. Romero. The man who would later redefine the entire horror genre by suggesting that the real monsters might not be supernatural at all… but us. His 1968 film “Night of the Living Dead” didn’t just create the modern zombie — it created a mirror. Romero taught us to fear what happens when systems collapse, crowds panic, and humanity turns on itself. February 4th didn’t just birth a filmmaker — it birthed a lens through which we’d view our own capacity for horror for generations to come. If only we could force all of America right now to watch that film and learn the lesson about systems collapsing, crowds panicking, and humanity turning on itself, things might be a bit more calm right now. No politics here, just an observation.

The Kidnapping of Patty Hearst

And then there’s 1974 — and a kidnapping that would become one of the strangest cases in FBI history.

On the night of February 4th, three armed strangers burst into a Berkeley, California apartment and dragged a nineteen-year-old college student named Patty Hearst out the door. Her fiancé was beaten and tied up. Neighbors who tried to intervene were forced back at gunpoint. Hearst was thrown into the trunk of a car and driven away.

Her kidnappers called themselves the Symbionese Liberation Army — a small, violent group of radicals led by an escaped convict named Donald DeFreeze. They demanded that Hearst’s wealthy family — she was the granddaughter of newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst — distribute millions of dollars in food to the poor. The family complied, but the distributions descended into chaos and rioting. And then, two months into her captivity, something changed.

On April 15th, 1974, surveillance cameras inside a San Francisco bank captured Patty Hearst — now calling herself “Tania” — wielding an assault rifle during an armed robbery. She barked orders at hostages. She looked, by all appearances, like a willing participant. In audio recordings released to the media, she denounced her family and declared her loyalty to the SLA. Had she been brainwashed? Coerced? Or had she genuinely converted to her captors’ cause? The whole thing became this bizarre mix of coercion, ideology, and survival that still gets debated — was it Stockholm syndrome, psychological manipulation, or something else entirely?

Hearst spent the next year and a half on the run with the remaining SLA members, crisscrossing the country as a fugitive. She was finally captured in September 1975 and charged with bank robbery. Her defense — that she had been raped, tortured, and psychologically broken by her captors — was rejected by the jury. She was convicted and sentenced to seven years in prison, though her sentence was later commuted by President Carter. In 2001, President Clinton granted her a full pardon.

To this day, the Patty Hearst case remains one of the most debated in American criminal history — a story of victimhood, Stockholm syndrome, and the blurry line between captive and criminal. And it began on February 4th.

The 2025 Sweden Mass Shooting

And just last year, in 2025, a mass shooting at an adult education center in Örebro, Sweden, left ten people dead before the gunman took his own life. It’s being called the worst mass shooting in Swedish history, hitting a school that served immigrants and locals alike, and the motive still isn’t fully clear.

The 1962 Planetary Alignment Panic

But perhaps no February 4th horror is stranger — or more absurd — than what happened in 1962.

On that date, something genuinely rare occurred in the sky: a planetary alignment. The Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn all clustered within seventeen degrees of one another — a configuration that happens only a few times per century. To make matters more dramatic, a total solar eclipse accompanied the alignment, visible across parts of Asia and the Pacific.

For astronomers, it was a curiosity. For millions of people around the world, it was the end of days.

At the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles, the scene bordered on mass hysteria. Cars lined up for half a mile, bumper to bumper, as panicked visitors flooded the building seeking answers — or perhaps just reassurance that they weren’t about to die. One woman was found weeping so hard she could barely speak. “I know it’s silly to carry on this way,” she gasped, “but I can’t help myself.”

Across the United States, families stocked bomb shelters. In India, millions participated in nonstop prayer vigils. Astrologers and doomsday prophets had spent months predicting that the alignment would trigger catastrophic earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, or even the gravitational destruction of the Earth itself.

None of that happened. February 5th arrived right on schedule. The planets drifted apart. The world kept spinning. And the people who had wept at the observatory went home, presumably embarrassed — though the next alignment, in 2040, will almost certainly bring a new generation of believers. I can already feel the excitement, can’t you?

February 4th. Fire. Blades. A tailor’s fatal leap. The birth of modern horror cinema. A kidnapping that defied explanation. And a night when the stars themselves seemed to threaten the end of everything — only to do nothing at all.

What We’re Celebrating Today

And now, a few words about what we’re supposed to be celebrating today — or at least acknowledging.

Rosa Parks Day

February 4th is Rosa Parks Day, honoring the civil rights icon who was born on this date in 1913. Parks, of course, is best remembered for refusing to give up her seat on a segregated Montgomery bus in 1955 — an act of quiet defiance that helped spark the modern civil rights movement. She spent the rest of her life advocating for justice, and today, several states officially recognize her birthday as a day of remembrance. So if you’re looking for a reason to sit down and refuse to move, you’ve got historical precedent.

National Homemade Soup Day

February 4th is also National Homemade Soup Day — which, frankly, feels like the universe trying to offer us comfort after everything we’ve covered in this episode. There’s no formal history behind this one; it’s just an excuse to make soup. Given that it’s February and most of the country is frozen, it’s hard to argue with the timing.

National Thank a Mailman Day

Today is also National Thank a Mailman Day — sometimes called Thank a Mail Carrier Day, for those who prefer gender-neutral gratitude. Mail carriers walk an average of four to eight miles a day, in all weather, delivering bills, packages, and the occasional piece of mail you actually want. The roots go back to the early days of the postal service, and apparently carriers don’t get enough appreciation the rest of the year. A simple “thank you” costs nothing. A bottle of water in summer or a warm drink in winter costs almost nothing. Or maybe a bowl of that homemade soup. It doesn’t hurt to offer.

International Day of Human Fraternity

And finally — February 4th is the International Day of Human Fraternity, established by the United Nations in 2021 to promote tolerance of cultural and religious diversity.

So. How’s that going?

Lighter Stories to End On

Alright. Let’s end on something lighter.

Emperor Norton: America’s Self-Proclaimed Ruler

Let’s start with a man who decided that if no one was going to give him power, he’d simply declare it himself.

On February 4th, 1819, Joshua Abraham Norton was born in England — though he’d spend most of his life in San Francisco. After losing his fortune in a failed rice speculation scheme in the 1850s, Norton did what any reasonable person would do: he proclaimed himself Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico. He issued his own currency — which local businesses actually accepted. He “dissolved” Congress by proclamation. He attended every session of the California State Legislature in full imperial regalia. And for two decades, San Francisco just… played along. People tipped their hats. Restaurants seated him for free. When he died in 1880, an estimated 30,000 people attended his funeral. Emperor Norton never held any actual power, but he might be the most beloved politician San Francisco never officially had… which explains a lot about the current condition of San Francisco.

The Origins of Groundhog Day

Now… let’s talk about that groundhog that disappointed us yet again a couple of days ago by seeing his shadow.

Back in 1887, newspapers were already talking about Groundhog Day traditions — except the timing was fuzzy. Early reports tied celebrations to early February, community gatherings, and weather folklore… but not always February 2nd. Which means at some point, a groundhog-based prediction system quietly standardized its own schedule, and no one questioned it. So if your groundhog shows up late, early, or on the wrong day — historically speaking — he might actually be the most accurate one.

The $640 Toilet Seat Scandal

Speaking of government efficiency — in 1985, it came out that the U.S. Navy had paid $640 apiece for toilet seats that should’ve cost about $25. Imagine being the store owner who gets to mark up plumbing supplies by 2,500 percent. The scandal became a symbol of Pentagon waste and sparked congressional investigations, but if you’ve ever wondered why your taxes are what they are… well, now you know where some of it went. Literally down the drain. Gee… if only someone could create, oh, I dunno… a Department of Government Efficiency or something? We could shorten it to DOGE. Just a suggestion. Not being political… just an observation.

Bill Gates Gets Pied

On February 4th, 1998, Bill Gates — co-founder of Microsoft, richest man in the world at the time, and architect of the operating system currently frustrating someone near you — was in Brussels, Belgium, arriving at a meeting. As he stepped out of his car, a man rushed forward and shoved a cream pie directly into his face.

The pie-thrower was part of a group called the International Patisserie Brigade — yes, that’s real — who had made a habit of “pieing” wealthy and powerful figures as a form of protest. Gates took it surprisingly well. He wiped the cream from his glasses, smiled awkwardly, and went on with his day. The footage, of course, went everywhere. No word on what flavor of pie.

What’s being thrown at Bill right now though is a lot less tasty than pie. I’ll just leave it at that.

The Launch of Facebook

And then there’s 2004, when a college-side project officially became Facebook. What started as a digital yearbook quietly evolved into a global machine that knows your birthday, your opinions, and somehow what you were thinking about buying yesterday. It also won’t confirm any of the job listings you post, so you can type in “Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico” and they won’t even bat an eye.

The Chinese Spy Balloon Incident

And finally, 2023, when the United States found itself in a diplomatic standoff with China over… a balloon.

On February 4th, 2023, the U.S. military shot down a Chinese surveillance balloon off the coast of South Carolina. The balloon — which was roughly the size of three school buses — had entered American airspace over Alaska about a week earlier and had drifted lazily across the entire continental United States, passing over sensitive military installations along the way. The Pentagon tracked it the whole time but chose not to shoot it down over land due to concerns about falling debris.

China claimed it was a civilian weather balloon that had blown off course. American intelligence said otherwise. The balloon was eventually brought down by an F-22 fighter jet firing a single missile — possibly the most expensive way to pop a balloon in human history. Recovery teams later retrieved the wreckage, which included surveillance equipment that bore no resemblance to anything used for weather monitoring.

The incident sparked weeks of diplomatic tension, a congressional hearing, and a lingering question that still hasn’t been fully answered: How many other balloons have drifted overhead without anyone noticing? And who are the airheads letting it happen? We’ve come a long way from unanimously voting in the first U.S. President. Not being political… just an observation.

Closing

And that’s your Morning Weird Darkness for Wednesday, February 4th, 2026.

Collisions that defied probability. A president elected before anyone knew what that meant. Ancient scrolls that proved the scribes got it right. Martyrs. Samurai. A tailor with too much confidence. The birth of modern horror cinema. A kidnapping that turned a victim into a suspect. A planetary alignment that convinced millions the end was near. An emperor who ruled by sheer audacity. Groundhogs who can’t agree on a date. A $640 toilet seat. Bill Gates wearing dessert. And a spy balloon that took the scenic route.

Just another February 4th.

I’ll be back tonight with a full Weird Darkness episode, so if you want to hang out with me and the rest of the Weirdo family, join us for our nightly live chat video premiere on YouTube. We go live as we post tonight’s podcast episode — 10 PM Eastern, 9 Central, 8 Mountain, 7 Pacific — over at WeirdDarkness.com/YouTube. Bring snacks. Or soup. It is National Homemade Soup Day, after all.

In the meantime, stay safe out there. Watch the sky. Check your parachute. Question confident inventors. And if a groundhog gives you a forecast today — maybe ask what year he thinks it is.

And if anyone declares themselves emperor over the last donut… historically speaking, you might just have to let him have it.

References

NOTE: Some of this content may have been created with assistance from AI tools, but it has been reviewed, edited, narrated, produced, and approved by Darren Marlar, creator and host of Weird Darkness — who, despite popular conspiracy theories, is NOT an AI voice.