Original subtitles

Beyond Fact or Fiction.

Hosted by Jonathan Frakes.

Tonight your challenge is to separate what

is true from what is false.

Five stories, some real, some fake.

Can you judge which are fact and which are fiction?

To find out, you must enter a world

of both truth and deception, a world that is beyond belief.

You are about to witness an illusion

known as the impossible fork.

Observe this illustration.

At the top you see the start of a fork

with the tines directed down.

Certainly possible.

Now, focus on the bottom half of the illustration.

Here we see the tines of the fork.

Also definitely possible.

But viewed together at the same time,

we see two tines that begin at the top become

three times at the bottom.

An impossible situation.

So observe our stories tonight carefully.

We'll tell you which are true and which

are false at the end of the show,

but right now, keep an open mind.

For just when you think you're traveling down

the clear pathway of truth, you may encounter

an impossible fork in the road.

In these days of handheld video and digital photography,

there's still a richness and fascination to the art

of good old film recording.

In fact, under certain conditions

film may still be the most reliable

recording method of all.

For one thing, can't erase it by mistake

with the push of a button.

For another, it's not altered by various atmospheric conditions

which can make videotape inoperable.

Albert Wainwright believes in the film

and its ability to capture things even the eye can't see.

Then again, you must take into account his profession.

You see Albert Wainwright is not a filmmaker.

He's a ghost hunter.

I'd been working with ghost hunter

Doctor Albert Wainwright since I graduated from Cal

Berkeley three years before.

Scan again.

Down

Scanning again.

Scanning finished.

Anything?

Nothing.

Well they're here. I know they're here.

I can feel them.

Opinions were divided on Doctor Wainwright.

Some thought him crazy, others a genius.

He was determined to capture the image of a ghost on film

and once and for all prove that they do exist.

What am I doing wrong?

No one had ever done it before.

I believed in him and so did Ron.

Nothing, doc.

Just more rats.

Must be hundreds of them in the walls.

We'd been working

at the old Malone estate for the past three weeks.

In this house 40 years ago, Stephen Malone

strangled his wife Marcia to death

and then hanged himself from the second floor banister.

Through the years people swore they saw the ghosts

of Stephen and Marcia still at war as they

roamed through the house.

Show yourself, Malone.

Dr. Wainwright was becoming

more and more obsessed.

I know you are here.

But he was running out of time and money.

I can feel you.

He knew he had to find something.

He sent for Rosalind Sarno, a renowned psychic

despite her young age.

She had a reputation for being able to raise the dead.

Doctor Wainwright had used psychics on other cases

with mixed results.

But he believed that Rosalind truly had the gift.

What is it?

I sense a really strong presence here.

Do you feel it?

The electromagnetic readings are

very high all around the house.

It would be.

This house is a power point.

Camera's down.

Get the 16 millimeter.

What's wrong?

I just saw a man with a rope.

Where?

Where do you see him?

I hear a woman's high heel shoes running across the floor.

I hear it too.

A chill of death is in the air.

OK, they've come forward.

It's a young woman.

She's afraid.

Help!

Somebody help me!

Somebody help me!

Are you seeing that through the lens?

Are you getting it all down?

Audio down.

Keep shooting, Tara, get it all.

Oh, he's strangling her!

Stick with us, Tara, get it all!

He's angry.

The spirit is angry.

He does not want you to be filming him.

Keep shooting, Tara.

Stop it!

We had all seen the same thing,

and I was positive that I got it on film.

I gave the reel to Doctor Wainwright,

who was going to take it to an all night lab in town

and have it developed immediately.

There we go.

We all made history tonight.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

We get this to the lab and then we shall eat.

OK?

Fantastic.

We'll meet up with you in a bit, Dr. Wainwright.

Congratulations.

Dr. Wainwright took off on his own.

We packed up the equipment and we

were going to meet him the next morning at a press conference.

He was going to announce our findings to the world.

I'd never seen him so excited.

Dr. Wainwright's car is still here.

Why would he still be here?

Dr. Wainwright?

At first I couldn't tell what was wrapped

so tightly around his neck.

By the time Ron looked inside, I knew.

It was the exposed film.

He's dead.

I think about Doctor Wainwright all the time.

His death remains a mystery to this day.

The police said that somebody probably tried to rob

him when he entered his car.

But why would they strangle him with the film?

Why would anyone do this?

I don't know.

I think it was the ghost of Stephen Malone.

Everyone present swore they saw two ghosts that night.

But without the film there was no proof.

Further investigation revealed that psychic Rosalind Sarno

was an accomplished hypnotist.

Think back.

was this a case of group hypnosis?

Was everyone seeing only what Rosalyn told them to see?

But then who murdered Professor Wainwright, and why?

Was it a jealous colleague, or perhaps an angry ghost?

Have we presented you with a documentary of fact,

or has the truth been left somewhere

on the cutting room floor?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a compulsive gambler suddenly

finds that he can't lose.

On Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction.

The seduction of gambling.

Bright colors, constant action.

A surge of adrenaline as you put your stakes on the line.

Most gamblers know that they're prisoners

to the whims of fortune.

The best you can do is know the odds and take a chance.

But what if you could beat the odds?

What if you could eliminate chance?

Jimmy Welsh has an unfortunate name for a gambler

and the bad luck to go with it.

He's hoping all that's about to change.

But what are the odds on that?

I was a regular at the Royal

Casino in Reno, Nevada.

It was one of the older joints and I like gambling there.

No more bets, please.

I got to get lucky one of these days, right?

Sure, Jimmy.

Come on baby, do it for me just this one time.

Number 30, red.

I always said I should have just signed

over my paycheck to the Royal, because that's

where it all went anyway.

What'd he drop?

400.

He does that every week. He;s a born loser.

: I fit the pattern

of the addicted gambler.

I'd lose most of my paycheck, swear to quit forever,

and then come back as soon as I got paid.

But my routine was about to change.

Just my luck.

I'll be electrocuted today.

Want me to warm that up for you Jimmy?

No, I'm going home.

Tough night, huh?

Murder.

Can I flip you for the check?

Sure, why not?

You call it.

Heads.

Heads it is.

Maybe your luck's changing.

Right.

Tails.

Heads.

Tails.

The most amazing thing was happening.

I flipped that coin 26 times in a row,

and 26 times I called it right.

It was like I could will it to come up the way I wanted it to.

Tails.

For the first time in my life,

I was in control.

No more bets, please.

I wanted to see if my new power

worked on the roulette wheel.

22.

22.

22.

Number 22 wins.

I always kept a $10 bill in my shoe

in case of an emergency.

Place your bets, please.

Money placed.

I never once used it to gamble.

Until that day.

7. 7.

7.

7.

7.

Number seven wins.

Thank God.

Finally.

Number 33 wins.

Drinks for everyone!

I just couldn't lose.

Every number I called came up.

I suddenly heard a word that was never connected to me before:

winner.

No more bets, please.

I wasn't sure why this was happening,

but I wasn't about to quit.

It didn't take long and I was almost $100,000 ahead.

5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5.

Number five wins.

Number 34, the winner.

This is beginning to seem like a dream.

I've been playing for two hours and I was up

almost a half million dollars.

Hold onto those for just a minute.

I'll be right back.

Yes sir.

I could have cashed in my chips

right then and there.

But hey, I'm a gambler.

I kept thinking about all the money I lost to that casino

throughout the years and how I was going to get

it all back with interest.

You're not getting me this time.

I'm going to have to talk to somebody about that.

Place your bets, please.

Let's make this interesting.

100 grand on 26.

No more bets, please.

26, 26, 26, 26, 26, 26, 26, 26, 26.

That ball was taking

its sweet time falling on 26.

But I wasn't worried.

I could wait a few more seconds for my dough.

26, 26, 26, 26

Number 18, red.

What?

That can't be, my number was 26.

Yeah, and you lost.

I thought maybe I didn't

concentrate enough that time.

But I still had plenty of money left,

so I figured I'd give it another shot.

Place your bets, please.

From then on, I

was going to forget about the blonde next to me,

forget about my bankroll, and just will that ball

into the slot.

Are you in?

I'm busted.

I had gone through almost $500,000

in 20 minutes.

Whatever was happening before wasn't happening anymore.

But guess what?

I'm hanging in there till it comes back.

Jimmy Welsh never again experienced the amazing power

he had that day.

What caused it to happen?

Did the electric shock he received from the dryer

give him some kind of psychokinetic energy

and then take it away again?

Was it just a once in a million lucky streak?

Or did Lady Luck, who had always given

Jimmy the cold shoulder, decided to smile on him for a while?

Is there really a way to determine whether this story is

fact or fiction?

Or is it simply a roll of the dice?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a doctor encounters the paranormal on Beyond Belief:

Fact or Fiction.

The practice of phrenology, basically the reading

of bumps on the head, has long been replaced by high tech

brain scanning procedures which can

pinpoint the smallest problem.

Still, models and charts like these

provide a layman's point of view of the brain and its areas.

In much the same way, astrology gives us

a layman's look at the heavens.

Dr. Dale Cullen is an expert on problems of the brain.

He's always looked at phrenology as a frivolous activity.

But what he's about to experience

will make his own brain spin.

I've been a successful neurologist

for the past 12 years.

I loved my work and there was nothing

more gratifying than to use my skills to help save a life.

But the one thing I had never gotten used to

was giving a patient bad news.

I'm sorry Martha, but there's definitely a tumor.

Oh no.

What does this mean, Dr. Cullen?

I'm afraid it's quite serious.

It's in a very dangerous spot.

It's deep inside the left lobe.

It's very hard to get to.

What do we do?

I suggest we operate as soon as possible.

And if we don't?

It's hard to know what we have until we get in there,

but from the looks of this, these types of tumors

are usually fatal.

I thought I was just having migraines.

It's a very technical operation.

Because of the location of the tumor

there's about a 50% chance of success.

I want the operation.

I want to see my babies grow up.

I couldn't get Martha Blaine out of my mind.

She was a young wife and mother with everything to live for.

Why did it happen to her?

Usually those types of tumors show up in people a lot older.

I knew you'd still be here.

I'm sorry, I was supposed to meet you.

That's OK, it's all part of being a doctor's wife.

- I'm sorry. - It's OK.

Hey, I got you a present.

Oh Dale, you are not going to believe what I found.

You know that little antique shop in the village?

I was just passing by when I saw this in the window.

It's heavy.

A phrenologist's head!

Don't you love it?

I thought it would just look so perfect

right here in your office.

And look, it's all divided into numbers and sections,

and this guide that explains what all the numbers mean.

I love it.

Oh and I haven't even told you the best part yet.

OK, just guess who this once belonged to.

I don't know, who?

Sigmund Freud.

Really?

Sigmund Freud?

It came with documentation!

I believe you.

What is that?

It's a smudge right over the left ear.

There.

All gone.

You know, that might have been Dr. Freud's fingerprint

you just wiped off.

No.

Oh, you.

So you need to be at the hospital by--

let's see-- 3 o'clock for prep.

All right.

Now look, I know you're worried, Martha.

But you've got to have faith, OK?

All right.

I'll see you there.

Bye-bye.

I'd performed this type of surgery

several times with mixed results.

I was very concerned.

I really wanted it to work out for Martha Blaine.

I was always tense before surgery,

but I was feeling more stressed than usual.

Then I happened to look over at the head.

The spot Annette had rubbed off was

back in the exact same place.

I was about to leave to prep for Martha's surgery

when I noticed the spot was back again.

It was in the exact same place.

Section 11, above the left ear.

Why did it keep reappearing?

What was section 11?

Then I remembered the map that came with it.

I couldn't understand why I was taking this head so seriously,

but that spot was too strange to ignore.

The map had nothing to do with science.

It was based on old beliefs and superstitions.

Every human emotion with corresponding numbers

to the numbers on the head was written on the map.

I looked at number 11.

Written next to it was the word cautiousness.

I had no explanation, but there it was.

Back again.

I didn't want to accept what was happening.

But it was.

A spot was in the exact same place

as the tumor in Martha's brain.

As a precaution I decided to check

the records and radiology.

And that's when I got the shock of my life.

Wait!

Stop.

There was a mix up in radiology.

The MRI wasn't yours.

What are you saying?

I'm saying you're fine.

You can go home.

The MRI actually belong to an 88-year-old man named Martin

Blaine, not Martha Blaine.

It was a simple filing error, but how it was discovered,

there was no simple answer to that.

The phrenologist's head still sits on my desk.

And the spot never came back again.

The switching and confusing of patients' records

is certainly not unheard of.

Is that all that actually happened here?

But then how do you explain the smudge on the phrenologist's

head that kept coming back?

And why did it turn up in the exact spot

as the tumor in the MRI?

And is it just coincidence that the section

where the smudge showed up is marked

cautiousness on the bottom?

Is this story of the mysterious head based on fact,

or are we up to more skullduggery?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a nature hike becomes a matter of life and death

on Beyond Belief: Fact or Fiction.

Do you love to go a wanderin' beneath a clear blue sky?

Hiking is no longer just the pursuit of Boy Scouts

or hardy mountain men types.

It's now a huge industry geared to both men and women

with entire stores devoted to its pursuit.

Of course it's always safer to hike in groups,

but sometimes a solitary walk in the woods

is just what the soul needs.

Trisha Kober is about to go for a hike.

Her goal is to get in touch with nature.

However, she is about to get in touch with much, much more.

I was a grad student at Washington State

University when the incident that changed my life forever

occurred.

Every chance I'd get I'd grab my backpack

and take off for a while into the wilderness.

Nothing was unusual about the way this hike started.

It was just me wanting to be alone with nature.

I thought it'd be pretty uneventful stuff.

Boy, was I wrong.

My parents loved the outdoors.

They taught me everything I knew about surviving in the wild.

I even climbed Mt.

Rainier with them when I was only 12 years old.

But nothing prepared me for what I was about to face.

Like always, I checked the weather

report, which called for fair skies,

but the barometer was falling.

I was taught to always respect mother nature.

Dad liked to say that she had a pretty face,

but her mood could change in a split second.

I could feel a slight change in the air

as I approached the trail to Sykes Bridge.

I'd heard a lot about the bridge,

but I'd never crossed it before.

I knew that it was built right at the start of World War II,

so I felt a sense of history as I got closer.

The bridge looked a little sketchy,

but there was no other way to the other side.

It felt pretty solid, so I decided to go for it.

Once I set foot on that bridge a powerful force took hold of me.

I didn't feel in danger, but I certainly

didn't feel safe either.

It was like I'd lost my ability to take

charge of the situation.

That bridge seemed to take on a life of its own.

I was never afraid of heights before,

but I suddenly felt dizzy and weak.

Every time I stepped down my legs

seemed to be made of rubber.

I could feel my heart beating faster,

and my breath was catching in my chest.

It was like all the warning signals in my body

were telling me to run to safety, but I couldn't run.

The way that bridge was shaking I could barely walk.

I was doing all I could not to surrender to my fears.

I didn't think it was possible that things were getting worse.

The bridge was shaking more than ever

and I was becoming a victim of my own fear.

I was now in a state of panic.

I was sure I was going to die and that I'd

never see my parents again.

Don't be afraid. Stay calm.

I'll help you.

Where did she come from?

I know there was no one else on the bridge.

Thank you.

I saw her name tag.

It read Margaret Lange.

It's a name I'll never forget.

You have to get off the bridge right away.

Something about her

gave me the strength and courage to move again.

I was sure that Margaret Lange

went down with the bridge.

I owed my life to her.

Thank heavens you're all right!

Mom.

Dad.

We were worried sick.

How are you doing?

Are you OK?

I'm fine.

What about the nurse?

There was no sign of her.

We'll go out again first thing in the morning.

What nurse?

The nurse on the bridge.

She saved my life.

A nurse?

I know it sounds crazy, but there was a woman on the bridge

in a nurse's uniform.

Her name tag said Margaret Lange, RN.

Could you excuse us for a minute, please?

- Of course. - What's wrong?

There's something I've been wanting

to tell you for a long time.

I don't know.

The years just slipped by and we never did.

I guess I was afraid.

Afraid of what?

We adopted you when you were six months old.

Your birth parents died in a plane crash.

I'm adopted?

Yes, darling.

We love you more than anything in the world.

I love you, too.

They were always

afraid to reveal I was adopted because they thought it

would make me love them less.

In truth, it made me love them more.

But after my experience with Margaret Lange on the bridge,

this was almost too much for me to absorb.

Why-- why are you telling me this now?

Because your birth mother was a registered nurse.

Her name was Margaret Lange.

When we got home, my mother

showed me a photograph of my birth mother

in a nurse's uniform.

It was her.

The same woman who saved my life on the bridge.

Could this have happened?

Was Trisha Kober's life really saved by the ghost

of her dead mother?

Could it have been another nurse with the same name?

If so, why was no trace of the nurse's body ever found?

Did Trisha imagine the entire encounter?

But then, how would she know her real mother's

name and profession if she was unaware of her existence?

Have we presented enough facts for you

to suspend your disbelief, or have we

failed to bridge the gap?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a cigar box holds hidden secrets on Beyond Belief:

Fact or Fiction.

You never know what

items you might find at a garage sale or a swap meet.

Take this cigar box.

The cigars that were inside it have long burned into the air,

and in their place, a lifetime of mementos.

Who knows why certain people save certain things?

As we know, one man's trash can be another man's treasure.

Aggie and Heather Baker are about to visit a swap meet.

It will turn out to be an experience they won't

want to swap for anything.

It was a Sunday morning,

and I was doing one of my favorite things:

spending time with my daughter Heather.

She was a terrific kid, and as a single mom,

she made me proud of her, and myself.

Mom.

I worked as a waitress at a local diner.

It could be a little stressful at times,

but I was saving money, and I loved the customers.

Every Sunday before work we hit the local swap

meets, hunting for bargains.

Gretchen, where you hiding all the good stuff?

There's plenty good stuff, you just got to look.

It was a close knit neighborhood.

We knew just about everybody there.

Heather, sweetie, we've to to get going.

OK, mom.

Wow!

What happened?

That box is vibrating.

Really?

Well there must be something inside.

No, I don't see anything that would make it vibrate.

Come on, I've got to go.

Mommy, look!

It's probably just an old toy inside that keeps going off.

OK, now I'm officially late.

Heather, we've got to go.

Mommy, can we buy the box?

Why?

It's just a box of old junk.

Please?

It's magic.

How much for the cigar box?

Give me a buck and it's yours.

Let's get a move on!

Hey Aggie, the deluxe burger's getting cold.

I'll be right there, Gus.

Mommy, the box is vibrating again.

I can't talk right now, honey.

I'm a little bit busy.

Then one of our regulars,

John August came in.

Hi, Heather.

Hi Mr. August.

How are you on this fine day?

Good.

My mom bought me this at a swap meet.

I know.

How do you know?

Hey, John.

Having the usual?

I didn't come in to eat, Aggie.

I'm here because a mistake was made.

What kind of mistake?

This cigar box you bought, it's actually mine.

I thought it was Gretchen's.

No, she bought it at an auction.

I was storing it with some other belongings.

I fell behind in my rent and they sold everything off.

If it's yours, you should have it back, Mr. August.

No, I don't need it now.

There's just this one thing inside that matters to me.

My I?

Sure.

I'll always remember

how he searched for it.

It was so important to him.

There it is.

What's that?

It's called a Purple Heart.

I got this fighting Nazis in the Second World War.

I was wounded in Germany.

Almost died.

I'll never forget the ceremony when they gave it to me.

My parents were standing there, crying.

They were so proud and grateful that I was alive.

Please, take it John.

You sure you don't want anything else?

No, just this.

Aggie, order's up.

I'm coming, Gus.

Thanks, Heather.

Mr. August?

Uh huh?

Sometimes the box vibrates.

Really?

Maybe it was the Purple Heart.

Hearts do beat, you know.

Goodbye, Mr. August.

He had been my customer for years,

but I learned something new about John August that day.

So, you gonna do it tonight?

As we were walking home that night,

we saw an ambulance outside an apartment building

near the diner.

I wonder what's going on here?

What's going on?

One of the tenants died.

Really, who?

His name was August.

John August.

John August?

That's right.

Did you know him?

We just saw him at the diner where

I work a couple hours ago.

Couple of hours ago?

No, that can't be.

He's been dead for at least two days.

It's a funny thing, he had a metal in his hand.

Some old Purple Heart from World War II.

Oh, mom.

There was no earthly explanation

for what happened that day, but the cigar

box never vibrated again.

On a whim I took the old baseball cards from the box

into a dealer.

I almost fainted when he told me they were worth almost $50,000.

The first thing I did was set up a college fund for Heather.

Thanks, Mr. August.

What happened here?

Did the old soldier really return after his death

to get his medal?

Or did the paramedic simply make a mistake

about the time of death?

But maybe it was more than just happenstance that Aggie

and Heather's lives were enriched

by the old soldier's gift.

What about our story?

Have we convinced you that this is a box

filled with items of truth?

Or is it a nice try, but no cigar?

Next you'll find out which of our stories are facts

and which are fiction, when Beyond Belief returns.

Now let's look back at tonight's stories

and find out which ones are inspired by actual events

and which ones are totally false.

Let's review the story of the ghost hunters

who tried to capture the spirits on film.

Are you seeing that through the lens?

Are you getting it all, Tara?

Keep shooting, Tara, get it all!

Oh, he's strangling her!

Stick with us, Tara.

Get it all.

He's angry.

The Spirit is angry.

He does not want you to be filming him.

Can it be that this story is fact?

Yes it is.

This event was reported as taking place in England

in the years following World War II.

Let's take another look at the roulette

player who found he could control

the wheel with his mind.

Seven.

Seven, seven, seven, seven.

seven.

Number seven wins.

Is it possible that this story is true?

Not this time.

It's a fraud.

How about the story of the model of a head

that saved a patient from dangerous and needless surgery?

The map had nothing to do with science.

It was based on old beliefs and superstitions.

Every human emotion with corresponding numbers

to the numbers on the head was written on the map.

I looked at number 11.

Written next to it was the word cautiousness.

Was this story based on a real happening?

Yes.

It happened in the state of Florida in the 90s.

What was your opinion of the hiker

who was rescued from a collapsing

bridge by her mother's ghost?

Don't be afraid.

Stay calm, I'll help you.

Thank you.

You have to get off the bridge right away.

Was this story inspired by an actual event?

Yes.

It was inspired by an incident that took

place in Texas in the late 60s.

The story of the veteran, the cigar box,

and the Purple Heart medal.

How did you judge that one? - Thanks, Heather.

Mr. August?

Uh-huh?

Sometimes the box vibrates.

Really?

Maybe it was the Purple Heart.

Hearts do beat, you know.

Goodbye, Mr. August.

Bye.

Is this strange story based on fact?

Yes.

A similar event took place in Ohio in the early 80s.

Were you able to navigate the waters of deceit

to find the islands of truth tonight?

Is there really a way to set your course and sail

for the star of truth, or is the voyage

itself fraught with obstacles that are beyond belief?

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

Phrenologist's Head and Cigar Box

are true, based on firsthand research conducted

by author Robert Tralins.

For Beyond Belief, this is Campbell Lane.