
Lost treasure · Arizona
The Lost Dutchman's Mine
Jacob Waltz died in Phoenix in 1891 with a secret, or so the story goes: a gold mine somewhere in the Superstition Mountains. Prospectors have searched for it ever since.
Every state has a legend

Where the truth ends and the legend begins
Gold that was found once and never again. A steel-driver who raced a steam drill. A hijacker who stepped into a November storm with $200,000 and was never seen again. These are America's great tall tales, lost treasures, frontier heroes and unsolved mysteries, and for every one we show you where the record ends and the legend takes over.
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Some legends grew from a single newspaper story. Some from a man who really lived. Some from gold that someone, somewhere, really did find. We went back to the records to show you where the truth ends, and then we let the legend ride.
Lost mines, last stands and vanishing acts, pinned to the places where the stories began.













Lost Mines & Buried Gold
Every legend of lost gold needs a man who knew the way. In Arizona, his name was Jacob Waltz.
Born in Germany, Waltz came west like thousands of others to prospect, and by the 1870s he was farming a homestead outside Phoenix. Neighbors called him the Dutchman, the way Americans of the day called almost any German. He was not rich. But in town, the story goes, he sometimes paid for his supplies with high-grade gold.
Waltz died in Phoenix in October 1891. Julia Thomas, who had cared for him in his last days, went looking for the mine she believed he had described to her, somewhere in the Superstition Mountains east of the city. She never found it.
Others followed, with maps and clues and the volcanic spire of Weaver's Needle as their landmark. In the summer of 1931, a treasure hunter named Adolph Ruth walked into the Superstitions and did not come out. His skull was found that December.
The mountains are a wilderness area now. People still go in. The gold, if it was ever there, is still waiting.
Superstition Mountains, Arizona

Tall Tales & Folk Heroes
The ballad is older than anyone can remember: John Henry was a steel-driving man.
In the years after the Civil War, the railroads cut through the mountains of Virginia and West Virginia by hand. Steel-drivers swung heavy hammers against long steel drills, held by a partner called a shaker, to open holes for the blasting powder. It was brutal, rhythmic, dangerous work, and many of the men who did it were Black.
The legend tells of the strongest of them all. When the company brought in a steam drill, John Henry put his hammer up against the machine. They drove side by side into the mountain. When it was over, John Henry had gone deeper than the steam drill. Then he laid down his hammer and died.
Tradition sets the contest at the Big Bend Tunnel near Talcott, West Virginia, where his statue stands today. Historians have argued for other tunnels, and for a real man named John William Henry. No one has settled it.
What no one doubts is the song, sung for a century and a half about a man who would not let a machine beat him.
Talcott, West Virginia

Vanished
On the afternoon before Thanksgiving, November 24, 1971, a quiet man in a dark suit and tie bought a one-way ticket from Portland to Seattle under the name Dan Cooper. He paid cash. He ordered a bourbon and soda.
Soon after takeoff he handed a flight attendant a note. He had a bomb in his briefcase, he told her, and he wanted $200,000 in twenty-dollar bills and four parachutes.
In Seattle the passengers walked off unharmed, and the money and the parachutes came aboard. The jet took off again, heading south with the crew flying low and slow, as he had instructed. Somewhere over southwest Washington, in the dark and the rain, the rear airstair of the Boeing 727 came down. Cooper stepped off into the night.
He has never been found. In 1980 a boy digging on a sandbar of the Columbia River turned up $5,800 of the ransom, rotted bundles of twenties with matching serial numbers. The FBI ended its active investigation in 2016.
No one knows if he lived. No one knows who he was. That, the legend says, is exactly how he planned it.
Southwest Washington
Eighty-two legends from all fifty states and D.C., arranged by kind of adventure: tall tales, lost gold, outlaws, explorers and the questions America still can't answer.

The history, the wonder and the dark, together. The Collector's Edition arrives in a black linen slipcase stamped in gold.
Where they are said to walk. A dark vintage-style map of the United States in bone-white ink on black, with the legends...
Three engraved metal bookmarks with silk tassels, one for each book: the Eagle, the Watcher and the Rider. Made to live between...
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It's written for adults and older readers, but these are adventure stories, and families read them together. We'd say 10 and up.
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