On the morning of September 1, 1974, Edwin Fuhr, a farmer near Langenburg, Saskatchewan, set out to harvest his canola fields. It was a clear, crisp day, and Edwin was operating his swather when he crested a small hill on his property. What he saw next would change his life forever.

As Edwin brought his swather to a stop, he noticed five metallic, dome-shaped objects arranged in a semi-circle near a slough on his land. The objects hovered silently just above the ground, each rotating rapidly. Intrigued but wary, Edwin dismounted his machinery and cautiously approached the strange objects. As he neared them, he could see they were smooth, reflective, and eerily symmetrical—like massive stainless steel bowls suspended in midair.

When Edwin got within 15 feet of the closest object, he felt an overwhelming sense of unease. The objects' rapid, counterclockwise rotation disturbed the grass beneath them, creating swirling patterns. As fear set in, Edwin retreated to his swather and sat frozen with shock. After a few tense minutes, the objects began to rise. One by one, they ascended into the sky with a blast of hot steam, leaving circular depressions scorched into the ground. The crafts then accelerated into the clouds, vanishing without a sound.

When Edwin returned home, he realized that more time had passed than he expected. Hours seemed to have slipped by, though the experience felt like it had lasted only moments. He told his family what had happened, and his father accompanied him back to the site to investigate. They found five perfect circles of flattened grass where the objects had hovered. The grass was bent in a spiraling pattern, as though it had been pressed down by something immense and hot.

Word of Edwin's encounter spread quickly. His wife told his sister, who told her husband, who in turn called the RCMP. Soon, officers arrived to investigate the site. The strange circular marks showed no evidence of human tampering—no tracks, no footprints, and no mechanical imprints. The investigators were baffled.

Within days, Edwin's farm became a circus of curiosity seekers. Media outlets from across Canada descended upon the small Saskatchewan town, eager to document the mystery. Edwin's once-quiet life was turned upside down as journalists, ufologists, and thrill-seekers camped on his property.

Theories surrounding the encounter varied wildly. Some believed Edwin had witnessed extraterrestrial craft conducting some kind of survey or reconnaissance mission. Others speculated that he had seen advanced military aircraft being tested in secret. A few dismissed the event as a prank or a hoax—despite the RCMP's official findings that the site showed no signs of fabrication.

Perhaps the strangest twist came when Edwin claimed to have received a phone call from none other than Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon. According to Edwin, Armstrong asked detailed questions about the objects' appearance and behavior before offering his own thoughts on unexplained aerial phenomena.

Nearly 50 years later, the mystery of Langenburg's UFO Encounter remains unsolved. What did Edwin Fuhr see that day? Was it alien technology, a military experiment, or a trick of the imagination?

Join us as we investigate the incredible story of Edwin Fuhr in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The Mystery of the Calgary Mummy is one of Alberta’s most perplexing cold cases—a story of unease, discovery, and unanswered questions that has haunted the community of Tuxedo Park since 1948.

It began when Alfred Pearce and his family moved into a modest house at 1805 20th Avenue NW in Calgary. From the moment they arrived, Mrs. Pearce complained of a strange, oppressive feeling in the home. She described it as a "creepy presence," like unseen eyes watching their every move. Her daughters echoed this discomfort, saying they often felt a cold sensation brushing against their skin.

The unease reached a breaking point on their first night in the house. While helping her mother with the dishes, one of the Pearce daughters screamed in terror, claiming a ghostly, disembodied hand had reached out and touched her shoulder. Alfred Pearce initially dismissed the encounter as imagination or nerves, but as he tucked the children into bed later that night, he noticed something unusual: the floorboards in the bedroom were sagging.

Curiosity and concern led Pearce to investigate further. He retrieved a crowbar and pried up the wooden boards. What he found beneath the floor made his blood run cold. Lying in a bed of ash was a mummified human corpse. The figure was clothed in a decayed leather jacket, with skin preserved by the dry, ashy conditions. Pearce immediately roused his family and rushed them out of the house before calling the authorities.

Calgary detectives Gordon Gilkes and Frank Whiteside arrived to investigate the grisly discovery. The body appeared to have been there for quite some time, and initial estimates suggested it had been hidden for nearly two decades. In the jacket pocket, detectives found a faded, crumpled letter bearing the name Thomas C. Hall—a man who had vanished without a trace in 1929.

The investigation into Hall’s death raised more questions than it answered. His brother, Wallace Hall, was brought in to identify the remains, and he confirmed that the coat matched one his brother had owned. But the circumstances of Thomas Hall's disappearance remained unclear. No signs of forced entry or struggle were ever found in the house, and no one recalled seeing him enter the property.

Theories swirled around the discovery. Some speculated that Hall had been lured to the house and murdered, with his killer using the ashes of the old coal furnace to conceal the body. Others suggested he had been involved in bootlegging during Prohibition, and that his death was connected to organized crime. Yet no arrests were ever made, and the case eventually went cold.

Even today, residents of Tuxedo Park speak of strange happenings in the house on 20th Avenue. Tenants have reported sudden cold spots, disembodied footsteps, and the sensation of being watched—echoes, perhaps, of the spirit of Thomas Hall still seeking justice.

Who killed Thomas Hall? Why was his body hidden beneath the floorboards for nearly two decades? And what exactly happened in that small Calgary home in 1929?

Join us as we uncover the chilling details of The Mystery of the Calgary Mummy in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The Legend of the Ogopogo has captivated Canadians for generations, blending Indigenous oral history with modern-day sightings of a mysterious creature said to inhabit British Columbia’s Okanagan Lake. Known originally to the Syilx (Okanagan) people as na-it-aka, or the "spirit of the water," this legendary being was believed to guard the lake and control safe passage across its waters. But is it merely folklore, or is there something more lurking beneath the surface?

The origins of the legend date back centuries. According to Syilx tradition, travelers were expected to offer gifts—often tobacco, animal meat, or other sacrifices—before crossing the lake. This gesture was believed to appease the spirit and ensure safe passage. One famous legend recounts how a visiting chief disregarded this tradition. As the chief’s canoes crossed the lake, a massive, serpentine creature emerged from the depths and capsized the boats, drowning the occupants. This cautionary tale was passed down through generations as a warning to respect the lake’s mysterious guardian.

When European settlers arrived in the region, they initially dismissed the legend as superstition. However, as the years passed, reports of an unusual creature began to surface. Early accounts described large, dark shapes gliding beneath the surface. In the early 1900s, several witnesses claimed their horses were attacked while swimming across the lake—dragged beneath the surface by something powerful and unseen. The creature was later given the whimsical name "Ogopogo" after a popular British music hall song in the 1920s, and the name stuck.

Modern sightings of the Ogopogo continue to this day. Witnesses often describe a long, serpentine creature with dark, undulating humps breaking the surface of the water. Some accounts claim the creature measures 15 to 20 feet long, while others believe it could be even larger. Multiple videos and photographs have surfaced over the years, though many have been dismissed as floating logs, waves, or groups of otters swimming in formation.

Scientists and skeptics have proposed various explanations for the sightings. Some suggest methane bubbles from the lakebed create patterns on the surface, while others argue that sturgeon—large, prehistoric-looking fish known to inhabit some Canadian lakes—might be responsible. Another theory posits that the sightings are remnants of an ancient species, possibly a form of aquatic dinosaur. Despite decades of speculation, no definitive evidence has ever been found.

The fascination with the Ogopogo has even prompted financial incentives. Over the years, several rewards have been offered for proof of the creature’s existence. In 1989, a tourism group offered $1 million for irrefutable evidence, though the prize remains unclaimed. The mystery has grown so pervasive that the British Columbia government passed legislation protecting the Ogopogo under provincial wildlife laws—just in case it does exist.

Is the Ogopogo nothing more than an enduring cultural myth, a clever tourist attraction, or an undiscovered species that defies scientific explanation? From ancient Indigenous teachings to modern sightings captured on smartphones, the mystery endures.

Join us as we explore the origins, sightings, and scientific investigations into The Legend of the Ogopogo in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

From the late 1950s to the mid-1980s, the city of London, Ontario, became an unlikely epicenter of terror, earning the grim title of The Serial Killer Capital of Canada. During this period, the small city saw an unprecedented wave of serial killings, with over 30 victims and a suspected 6 to 9 serial killers operating within its borders. To this day, many of these crimes remain unsolved, and the question of why London became a hunting ground for so many predators still haunts investigators.

The story of this dark chapter begins with cases like that of Jackie English. On October 4, 1969, 15-year-old Jackie was finishing her shift at The Metropolitan and needed a ride home. Her mother, who usually picked her up, was recovering from surgery, so Jackie made arrangements with friends to give her a lift. However, when she climbed into the car that night, she never made it home. Her body was found five days later—beaten, raped, and discarded. Her murder was just one of many that overwhelmed the London Police Service during this time.

The police were already stretched thin, investigating numerous other unsolved murders that shared disturbing similarities. The victims were often young women or children, abducted from familiar places and later found in remote locations. Investigators struggled with limited resources, outdated forensic techniques, and a growing sense of panic within the community. As more bodies were discovered, the realization set in: London was in the grip of multiple serial killers.

Several of these criminals earned sinister nicknames based on their methods. The Chambermaid Slayer targeted women working in hotels. The Mad Slasher brutally attacked victims in their homes. The Bedroom Stranger scaled apartment balconies to enter homes undetected, attacking women as they slept. Despite widespread fear and intensive police efforts, many of these cases never reached a resolution.

Experts have long debated why London experienced such a disproportionate number of serial killers. Some point to the city’s geography: London sits along major transportation routes, making it easier for criminals to travel in and out undetected. Others suggest the rapid population growth in the post-war years created social anonymity, providing fertile ground for predators to operate unnoticed. Still, others argue that flaws in early investigative techniques and jurisdictional overlap allowed killers to evade capture for years.

Perhaps most chilling of all is the knowledge that some of these predators were eventually caught—but only after years of unchecked violence. Several suspects were later linked to murders through advancements in DNA technology, while others remain unidentified to this day.

Why did London become Canada's serial killer capital? Was it chance, geography, or something more sinister? And how many of these killers were caught—and how many are still out there?

Join us as we unravel the mystery of The Serial Killer Capital of Canada in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The disappearance of the Jack family is one of British Columbia’s most haunting mysteries. On August 1, 1989, Doreen Jack, 26, Ronald "Ronnie" Jack, 26, and their two sons, nine-year-old Russell and four-year-old Ryan, vanished without a trace after accepting a job offer from a stranger. More than three decades later, the family’s fate remains unknown.

It all began at the First Litre Pub in Prince George, where Ronnie was approached by an unidentified man who claimed to have a lucrative short-term job opportunity. The man said that Ronnie could work at a nearby lumber mill, while Doreen could cook for the camp’s kitchen. He assured Ronnie that childcare was available for the boys and promised good pay—but there was one condition: they had to leave immediately.

Excited about the prospect of work and eager to support his family, Ronnie returned home and explained the situation to Doreen. The family quickly packed a few belongings and climbed into the stranger’s vehicle, leaving behind their apartment and their extended family without warning. Ronnie called his mother later that night to share the news and promised they would return in a few weeks—just in time for the boys to start school in September. They never came back.

In the days following their disappearance, family members grew increasingly concerned. The police were contacted, but the investigation was fraught with missteps. Witnesses who claimed to have seen the family leaving Prince George were dismissed, and crucial leads were either mishandled or ignored. Some investigators speculated that the family may have gone on an impromptu vacation, while others suggested foul play, but no concrete evidence ever emerged.

Over the years, various theories have circulated. Some believe the Jack family was lured into a human trafficking scheme, while others suspect they were victims of a targeted attack. The unknown man who approached Ronnie at the pub was never identified, and the supposed lumber mill job was never verified.

What makes the case even more unsettling is how often the family’s story slipped through the cracks. Early reports were delayed, leads were missed, and the investigation stalled repeatedly. Despite efforts to raise awareness, the Jack family’s case remains one of many unsolved disappearances in northern British Columbia—a region known for the infamous Highway of Tears.

What happened to the Jack family that night in 1989? Was it a case of opportunistic crime, or did they stumble into something far more sinister?

Join us as we unravel the mystery of The Jack Family Disappearance in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

Come celebrate Halloween the Unsolved Canadian Mysteries way, with scary stories from Dylan, Kenton and our editor Christina. Some stories are true, some are legends, and some are, well... you'll find out.

This is our first attempt at something like this, so we would love to know your thoughts, and would love to know (after you finish watching it), how would YOU end the story of the three kids?

The Possession of Barbe Hallay is Canada's oldest documented case of demonic possession—a terrifying tale of obsession, curses, and supernatural forces that dates back to 1660 in Beauport, New France, near present-day Quebec City. It is a story of unrequited love that turned into a nightmare, involving prominent historical figures, unexplained phenomena, and a community gripped by fear.

Barbe Hallay was a young teenager when she took a position working for a family in Beauport. One day, a man named Daniel Vuil arrived at the household and asked for her hand in marriage. Although only 13, Hallay was legally old enough to consent, but she declined his proposal. This rejection enraged Vuil, who stormed away from the property. According to legend, he retreated to his home, where he invoked dark forces to torment the young girl and bend her will to his.

Soon after, strange and terrifying events began to unfold. Barbe was plagued by seizures, convulsions, and hallucinations. Witnesses claimed she spoke in tongues and displayed unnatural strength. She described visions of demonic figures and was often found writhing in agony, screaming of unseen tormentors. Objects reportedly moved on their own, and eerie noises filled the household, terrifying the entire community.

The situation escalated when local religious authorities were called to intervene. Jesuit priests, including Father Paul Ragueneau, performed exorcism rites, recording the events in meticulous detail. Their writings describe the battle as a war with the forces of darkness, with Barbe’s body contorting and her voice shifting into guttural tones. The priests believed she was possessed by demons summoned by Vuil’s malicious intent.

As word of the possession spread, it attracted the attention of key figures in New France, including Governor Pierre de Voyer d’Argenson. The case became a sensation, with crowds gathering to witness the exorcisms. Meanwhile, Daniel Vuil disappeared, and some believe he fled the colony to escape justice.

The exorcisms continued for weeks, with Barbe experiencing periods of relief followed by renewed torment. It was only after her mother’s unwavering faith and the community’s relentless prayers that the possession seemingly ended. Barbe recovered, though she carried the trauma of the ordeal for the rest of her life.

Was Barbe Hallay truly possessed by demons, or was this a case of extreme psychological distress exacerbated by religious and societal pressures? And what happened to Daniel Vuil—did he indeed wield supernatural forces, or was he merely a spurned suitor with a dangerous imagination?

Join us as we delve into the spine-chilling story of The Possession of Barbe Hallay in our Halloween Special episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The Curse of the Lost Lemmon Mine is one of Alberta’s most enduring mysteries—a tale of gold, murder, and misfortune that has captivated treasure hunters for over a century. It began in 1870 when two prospectors, Joe Lemmon and his companion, known only as Blackjack, ventured into the wilderness near the North Saskatchewan River, not far from present-day Calgary. Their goal was simple: to strike it rich. What they found, however, was far more than they bargained for.

As they scoured the riverbanks, Lemmon and Blackjack discovered placer gold deposits glinting in the sun. They followed the trail upstream until they uncovered what appeared to be a rich gold vein. Excited by their find, they quickly mined what they could, filling their bags with gold and ore. Exhausted but triumphant, the pair settled in for the night.

When Joe Lemmon awoke the next morning, he was met with a gruesome sight. Blackjack lay dead beside the fire, his body bearing no signs of struggle or injury. Terrified, Lemmon grabbed the gold and fled the camp, running blindly through the wilderness until he reached civilization. Once back in Calgary, the gold was assessed, revealing that Lemmon had brought back an astonishing $27,000 worth of gold ore—a fortune in 1870, equivalent to nearly $700,000 today.

Shaken but eager to retrieve more of the treasure, Lemmon organized a second expedition. Yet, despite his best efforts, he was unable to relocate the site. Dense forests, shifting landscapes, and a growing sense of dread seemed to conspire against him. Each new attempt to find the lost mine ended in frustration or disaster. Some search parties were turned back by unexplained illnesses, accidents, and even violent encounters with others who had heard rumors of the gold. Thus, the legend of The Curse of the Lost Lemmon Mine was born.

Over the decades, numerous treasure hunters have tried their luck, scouring the forests and hills around the North Saskatchewan River. Some claim to have found traces of gold; others tell tales of ghostly figures that guard the supposed location. Indigenous legends speak of a cursed land, warning outsiders to stay away. In 2005, a massive flood unearthed new deposits of quartz and gold in the region, reigniting interest in the mine's potential whereabouts.

Did Lemmon stumble upon a lost motherlode of gold that remains hidden to this day? Was Blackjack’s death a tragic accident, or was it something more sinister? And is the mine truly cursed, or simply a story born from fear and greed?

Join us as we dig into the mystery of The Curse of the Lost Lemmon Mine in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The story of The Mad Trapper of Rat River is one of Canada’s most legendary and perplexing wilderness mysteries. In 1932, a man calling himself Albert Johnson sparked a massive manhunt across the unforgiving Arctic landscape, leaving behind a trail of violence, confusion, and unanswered questions. His true identity remains unknown to this day.

The ordeal began when local trappers reported someone tampering with their traplines near the Rat River in the Northwest Territories. RCMP officers visited Johnson's remote cabin to question him, but the man refused to cooperate or even speak. A few days later, when the police returned with a search warrant, Johnson opened fire through the cabin door, wounding Constable Alfred King. What followed was a violent and unprecedented pursuit through Canada’s northern wilderness.

The RCMP besieged Johnson's cabin and eventually resorted to dynamiting it, believing he had no way to escape. Yet, when officers entered the smoldering ruins, Johnson was gone. He had slipped away without a trace, leaving only footprints in the snow. The pursuit intensified, with trackers, dog teams, and even military aircraft joining the search.

For over a month, Johnson led the authorities on a relentless chase across 240 kilometers of frozen tundra. He displayed extraordinary survival skills, crossing icy rivers, scaling mountains, and evading capture despite harsh conditions and temperatures plummeting to -40°C. His ability to travel faster than the experienced Indigenous trackers astonished everyone involved.

The chase ended in a final confrontation near the Eagle River. Johnson ambushed the pursuing officers, fatally shooting Constable Edgar Millen. The RCMP, now more determined than ever, closed in on him. On February 17, 1932, after a deadly shootout, Johnson was finally killed.

When authorities examined his body, the mystery deepened. Johnson had no identification, no known associates, and no past that investigators could uncover. His fingerprints matched no records, and the origins of the stranger who had eluded capture for weeks remained unknown. He carried a substantial amount of cash, high-quality equipment, and gold teeth, suggesting he may have come from outside the region.

Speculation about Johnson's identity has persisted for decades. Some theories suggest he was a fugitive from the United States, possibly an escaped convict or a former soldier with advanced survival skills. Others believe he may have been a Scandinavian immigrant, using his bushcraft knowledge to evade capture. Modern DNA analysis has provided some leads, but his true identity remains elusive.

The story of The Mad Trapper of Rat River continues to intrigue historians, true crime enthusiasts, and conspiracy theorists alike. Was Albert Johnson a criminal on the run, a misunderstood hermit, or something more? Join us as we unravel the mystery behind this legendary fugitive in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The story of Michael Eugene Oros, better known as The Mad Trapper of Sheslay, is a chilling tale of isolation, paranoia, and violence in the remote wilderness of northern British Columbia. Oros, an American draft dodger, fled to Alaska in the late 1960s to avoid conscription into the Vietnam War. But the harsh conditions of Fairbanks proved too unforgiving, and he soon moved south, settling in the abandoned mining village of Sheslay, British Columbia.

Life in Sheslay only deepened Oros's paranoia. He became increasingly convinced that he was being stalked by shadowy figures he referred to as "sneak arounds." In his writings, he mentioned "torture druggers" who he believed were experimenting on him and poisoning his food. His isolation fed these delusions, turning him from an eccentric recluse into a man consumed by fear and suspicion.

Over the years, Oros's behavior became more erratic and hostile. He set traps around his cabin, fired warning shots at passing strangers, and harassed local trappers and prospectors. Locals viewed him as a dangerous nuisance, someone best avoided. But the situation escalated dramatically when ex-Nazi and fellow recluse Gunther Lishy vanished without a trace. Suspicion fell on Oros, and the RCMP launched an investigation.

The police soon discovered evidence linking Oros to Lishy's disappearance, along with disturbing writings and makeshift traps rigged throughout his property. Oros, however, refused to cooperate. As officers closed in, he lashed out, firing at law enforcement and injuring an officer in the process. What followed was a tense manhunt through the unforgiving terrain of northern British Columbia.

On March 19, 1985, the chase came to a deadly conclusion on Big Island in Teslin Lake. RCMP officers had planned to surround Oros using two helicopter teams, but mechanical issues caused delays. When officers finally landed, they found Oros dragging a sled through the woods. He vanished into the trees and reappeared moments later with a rifle. From the shadows, he fired a shot that fatally struck Corporal Michael Buday in the neck. As Oros aimed his rifle toward Constable Garry Rodgers, the constable fired back, hitting Oros in the forehead and killing him instantly. Upon inspection, investigators discovered Oros’s weapon had jammed—he had pulled the trigger, but the bullet never fired.

In the aftermath, eerie stories emerged. Big Island, where Oros made his last stand, is known in local Indigenous lore as a spiritually significant place. Some speculated that the island’s guardian spirit had intervened, possessing Constable Rodgers to protect the land. The fact that Oros’s rifle malfunctioned at the critical moment only added to the mystique, leading some to believe that something otherworldly ensured his demise.

The mystery surrounding Oros's descent into madness and the fate of Gunther Lishy remains unsolved. Was Oros simply a victim of untreated mental illness, driven to violence by isolation, or was there more to his fears than anyone realized? And did a supernatural force truly intervene to stop him that day?

Join us as we unravel the twisted tale of The Mad Trapper of Sheslay in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.