This is an IHeart podcast.

Guaranteed Human.

Welcome to Aaron Menke's Cabinet of Curiosity's, A Production of IHeart Radio and Grim and Mild.

Our world is full of the unexplainable.

And if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore.

Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosity's.

It was the morning of August 9th of 1986, in the neighborhood of Heddington, Oxford.

It was an unassuming place, suburban with cookie-cutter houses lining a quaint street,

a perfectly ordinary British suburb.

On that morning, though, something had changed. By 8 o'clock, a small crowd had gathered outside of a two-story brick house

on New High Street, and everyone was looking up. Planted in the roof of the building was a 25-foot-tall

sculpture of a great white shark, its head embedded into

the shingles. It looked as if it had dropped there head first. There was no mystery where the

shark came from. Standing beside it on the roof were two men. One of them, an American expat

named Bill Hane, who owned the house, and the other man was John Buckley, a British

sculptor who had crafted the shark. The creators of this piece of art refer to it only as

Untitled 1986. It was, at least according to its creators, a political statement. Set up on

the anniversary of the bombing of Nagasaki, it was supposed to represent

death coming suddenly from above onto the heads of innocent civilians, like a shark

lunging at its prey from the murky darkness of the ocean. Of course, not everyone believed

that this was the intent. Skeptics suspected that Hayne put up the artwork in order to hide an

antenna of some kind, or as a prank for his neighbors. But these lone speculators were not

...