# D.B. Cooper’s True Identity Revealed After 54 Years

For over five decades, the enigmatic figure of D.B. Cooper, who hijacked Northwest Orient Airlines Flight 305 on Thanksgiving Eve 1971, has baffled law enforcement and captivated the public.

Boarding under the alias Dan Cooper, this man in a dark suit and sunglasses turned a routine Portland-to-Seattle flight into a legendary mystery by demanding $200,000, four parachutes, and threatening to detonate a bomb.

After receiving the ransom in Seattle, he parachuted into the night over Washington state’s dense forests, vanishing without a trace—until now. A breakthrough after 54 years points to Richard Floyd McCoy Jr. as the true D.B. Cooper.

The hijacking unfolded with chilling precision. Midway through the 30-minute flight, Cooper passed a note to a flight attendant, whispering, “Miss, you’d better look at that note. I have a bomb.”

His briefcase revealed what appeared to be dynamite, escalating the crisis. After landing in Seattle, passengers were released, unaware of the drama, and the plane took off again under his orders toward Mexico. At 8 PM, amidst howling winds, Cooper jumped from 10,000 feet, leaving behind only a clip-on tie.

Despite an extensive FBI search involving hundreds of agents, helicopters, and bloodhounds, no trace was found—except for $5,800 in rotted bills discovered by a boy on the Columbia River in 1980, matching the ransom serial numbers.

The case remained cold until 2016 when the FBI officially closed it, but independent investigator Dan Grider, a retired airline captain, refused to let it rest. In 2023, Grider’s obsession led him to a Utah storage unit linked to McCoy’s family, where he uncovered a military-style parachute with modifications matching FBI records from 1971.

McCoy, a Vietnam War veteran and helicopter pilot, had executed a near-identical hijacking just five months after Cooper’s, demanding $500,000 and parachutes before jumping over Utah. Caught due to fingerprints and a note left behind, McCoy was sentenced to 45 years, only to escape and die in a 1974 shootout with agents.

Grider’s findings reignited interest, especially as McCoy’s profile—despite physical discrepancies noted by the FBI—aligned with Cooper’s tactics. Both used Boeing 727s, rear stairwell escapes, and similar calm demeanors.

Grider theorized McCoy altered his appearance and handwriting to mislead investigators. The clincher came when McCoy’s children, Chanté and Rick, broke decades of silence in a viral video, confessing they believed their father was Cooper, a secret kept until their mother’s passing to avoid implication.

The FBI reopened the case, retrieving the parachute for forensic analysis at Quantico, alongside plans to compare DNA from Cooper’s tie with samples from McCoy’s family.

While not legally conclusive, the evidence and confession paint a compelling picture. Richard Floyd McCoy Jr., a family man driven by unknown motives—perhaps a need for control in a chaotic world—emerges as the face behind D.B. Cooper, transforming a ghostly legend into a flawed, human story.