The engine of a brinks armored truck starts up outside First National Bank in St Louis, Missouri.

Inside the bank, it's after closing time, but auditor Frank Brissowski and a cashier are still working, counting out half

a million dollars. They microfilm the bills, noting down the serial numbers of the first

and last bills in each pack. Then Grisowski double checks

the amount with a counting machine. Heridly, he and the cashier lugged two of the heavy bags of cash into

the waiting truck. Hands clammy, forehead sweating,

near pumped full of adrenaline.

This is not a situation they ever find themselves in,

hauling around such bounty.

They've carried the first 102102,500 to the truck. They'll go back for the

remaining 400K. But this isn't some kind of heist we're talking about. These two people

are organizing the ransom to be paid at the

St. Louis Airport to a hijacker on a commercial jet who is impatiently waiting on

the runway, holding hostage its crew, stewards, and one very frightening passenger. The Hi all, we're glad you're listening this is American history hit I'm Don

Wildman here in the States as the 1960s transitioned into the 70s well a lot of

unusual stuff was going on in those days, politically, economically, culturally.

Vietnam on TV, Nixon as president, the recession dragging on.

Minniskirtz went to Maxi, while men inexplicably wore clogs.

I myself was a middle schooler in polyester bell bottoms, quite proud of my pendant necklace,

and for a brief time even dared myself to wear a Gatsby cap for about a day.

We were, all of us, young and old, working out how to leave the age of Aquarius behind and move into a brand new era.

Adding to the backdrop of this strange and unstable time

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