In a suburb of Chicago, there's a dial soap factory.

Dial soap factory.

Dial soap.

It's still one of the biggest soap brands in the country. And back in the 60s, this company was called

Armour Dial. Because back then, Dial was a subsidiary of Armourin Company, a meat packer.

These two companies were a big deal in Chicago. But one day, back in 1969,

a pipe that carried industrial waste out of the plant got clogged and started to back up, causing the factory

to shut down.

When the employees located the problem, they realized the pipe was full of debris that

had been mixed with concrete.

By one account, it was as much as seven tons of junk clogging up the works.

Next to the pipe, there was a sign.

It said something clever like Armardale

pollutes our water. The sign was autographed the Fox. The signature might have

been referencing the river that this ledge was polluting, the Fox River, but it came to be known as a pseudonym, a calling

card for a mysterious environmental vigilante.

He didn't make a plan to be the Fox. He didn't come out and say here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to be a crime

fighter. I'm going to be an environmental sage or whatever. Seven years before the state of Illinois had passed a law that was supposed to limit the chemicals that factories like this could pump into rivers and lakes, but Armardial had largely ignored it. And now somebody was calling them out on it.

Under the cover of darkness, somebody

had come to teach them a lesson.

This protest was not a serious problem for arm or dial. It didn't bankrupt them.

But it was just the beginning of a years long campaign that this anonymous crusader waged against the company.

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