For most frequent flyers, air travel is hectic enough. Between adjusting to last-minute gate changes and stuffing your bag into the cramped overhead compartment, each trip is full of nasty little surprises. But a particular airport in the Rockies may contain more mysteries than anyone could’ve imagined.
Most visitors to Denver International barely notice the oddities scattered around the terminals and runways, though these strange features have become an obsession for a few free thinkers. They insist that the airport is the headquarters of a uniquely sinister movement — one that’s taking over the world right under our noses.
Maybe it’s just the gasping of frantic businessmen rushing to their flights, but there is an indescribable buzz around the Denver International Airport. This otherworldly aura poses a big question: is this more than just an ordinary airport?
Since its opening in 1995, the hub has raised more than a few eyebrows with its puzzling design. In many ways, Denver International seems to be trying to terrify everyone who passes through its grounds.
The most striking example is Blue Mustang, a sculpture that many prefer to call the “Devil Horse.” That name isn’t solely due to its demonic eyes, either. Artist Luis Jiménez actually died while sculpting it, after the mustang head fell on him.
Cursed statues aside, conspiracy theorists have had a field day with supposed hidden clues all over the airport. While most people will disagree with their far-fetched conclusions, they can’t deny that some unusual powers are at work in Denver International.
At the center of these theories is this dedication plaque. Containing a vaguely described time capsule, the stone thanks the New World Airport Commission and bears the logo of the Freemasons. Both of these organizations could be major causes for concern.
Pexels / Raul
For starters, the New World Airport Commission doesn’t exist, not in the official sense. The airport explained it’s just a catchy moniker used by a coalition of local businesses, but tin-foil hat wearers believe the name is linked to the New World Order.
The gist of the NWO involves a group of elites covertly controlling the entire world, while keeping up the illusions of democracy and individual freedom. Conspiracy theorists often connect secret societies like the Freemasons to this ghastly movement. Granted, Freemasonry has existed for hundreds of years.
But real-life Freemasons are members of regional fraternities that perform charity work for the community — like raising funds for a new airport. Still, bizarre symbols throughout the airport keep up suspicions of a New World Order.
Denver Lodge 757
Is it possible that the Denver Airport was designed to signal the arrival of an authoritarian power? Call it coincidence, but there is the fact that the layout of its runways resemble a swastika. Then there are the graphic images inside the airport.
Some are obvious: Denver’s murals caught a lot of flak in recent years for their disturbing subject matter. Various scenes depict refugees weeping as war and calamities overtake the world — a nice view to take in right before a vacation.
However, the artist insists his work is fundamentally hopeful, not a warning of a looming apocalypse. Leo Tanguma titled the murals “Children of the World Dream of Peace,” as they end with the entire world working together. But this explanation hasn’t satisfied everyone.
Community College of Aurora
So-called free thinkers still believe the artwork is predicting a disease invented to wipe out most of the world. They point to a floor tile design that reads “Au Ag” and suggest that it represents the deadly hepatitis Australia antigen.
Just about anybody with a basic education, however, will dispute this. Au and Ag are the respective chemical symbols for gold and silver. Their presence in a mining cart pays tribute to Colorado’s early boom due to the discovery of precious metals.
Naturally, both sides can debate the meaning behind artwork all day. Though even skeptics are wondering about the unconventional architectural features of the airport building. Denver International has remained hushed about its miles of underground tunnels, which contain strange symbols on the walls.
The Business Journals
Curtis Fentress, the architect, said he’s sworn to secrecy when it comes to the tunnels, whether they’re a vast underground bunker or just a simple security passage. But his firm began renovations in 2018 that made all these crackpot ideas suddenly seem plausible.
For years, only the most paranoid among us really bought that Denver International was an Illuminati base. The tide of opinion shifted when the airport closed off certain areas and posted signs about the presence of supernatural creatures and Freemason conspiracies.
Asked about these theories, Denver Airport CEO Kim Day expressed a desire for “embracing that strangeness and sharing in the fun.” She added the caveat that “we couldn’t really hide all of these happenings from the millions of people who visit this airport.”
YouTube / AAAEDelivers
The following year, gasps echoed throughout the terminal when a gigantic gargoyle appeared in the middle of the concourse. Reporters pestered Day for an official explanation, though the monster ended up speaking for itself.
It turned out that the gargoyle was part of a larger marketing campaign by Denver International, spinning its weird reputation to its advantage. The animatronic beast, with a surprisingly sharp sense of humor, now explains various facts about the airport to passing tourists.
The Denver Channel
The crazy theories about Denver International have mostly cooled off, though hardcore believers claim these jokes are simply distracting us from the truth. Crazy as it may sound, they do produce evidence pointing to special “elites” among us; political writer Garrett Graff uncovered one of the biggest clues yet.
Garrett covered a lot of hot-button issues in his lifetime, from the War on Terror to the 2008 U.S. presidential election. But perhaps his most eye-opening research started when his friend handed him something peculiar.
“It was a government ID for someone from the intelligence community,” Graff said, “and he gave it to me since I write about that subject, and he’s like, ‘I figure you can get this back to this guy.'” The friend, he noted, had found the ID on a parking garage floor.
Right away, Graff noticed something peculiar about the ID: step-by-step driving instructions covered the back of it. So Graff, inquisitive journalist that he was, used Google Maps to locate the direction’s end destination — and the results surprised him.
The directions led him to a mountain peak just over 70 miles outside of Washington D.C. There, at a peak known as Raven Rock, the road just… ended. It led to the face of the mountain and then, nothing.
The Center for Land Use Interpretation
Graff recalled everything else he saw once he made the trip out there. “You can see very clearly these big concrete bunker doors,” he said. “This little guard shack, chain-link fence, and then this set of concrete bunker doors beyond.” What had he just found?
The Center for Land Use Interpretation
“It was a facility that I had never heard of that wasn’t on any map,” Graff elaborated. His inner historian and journalist totally freaking out, he started researching what he’d found as soon as he could.
About Camp David
He didn’t know it when he first stumbled upon the structure, but the directions had led him to Raven Rock Mountain Complex, also known as ‘Site R’. To put it more bluntly, he’d found a nuclear fallout shelter!
Graff’s research turned up plenty of information on the United States government’s nuclear war contingency plan—some of it comforting, some of it horrifying, and all of it fascinating. For example…
The Truman administration sanctioned construction on the bunker in 1951 once the Cold War with the Soviet Union started warming up. They used a construction team who’d carved out New York City subway tunnels to do the job. So how’d they keep it secret?
U.S. National Archives / Flickr
Laborer Gene Bowman—who was paid $1.35 per hour in 1951 to bore through the granite of Raven Rock—put it this way: “They just said they were building a tunnel. Wasn’t nobody interested in what they were doing.” Once dug, however, it didn’t look like a simple tunnel.
In his interview with NPR, Graff described the Raven Rock Complex as “a free-standing city… built inside of this mountain.” Intended to be a “backup Pentagon,” Site R boasted two 34-ton blast doors capable of thwarting nuclear bomb blows.
Beyond the blast doors and inside the heart of the rock, 100,000 feet of office provided all the room military officials would need to operate. Infirmaries, cafeterias, and utility areas allowed for up to 1,400 of America’s V.I.P.s to live somewhat comfortably—with a catch.
With the president, his or her cabinet, officials, and military personnel inhabiting the bunker, there was no room for spouses. This led to a famous exchange between then-Supreme Court Justice Earl Warren and another official…
Handed an ID badge for access to Raven Rock, Justice Warren realized there wasn’t one for his wife. When told she wouldn’t be allowed in, the justice handed back the ID and said, “you’ll have room for one more important official.”
But believe it or not, Raven Rock wasn’t just a place for the elite and powerful to hobnob as the world around them fell apart. As Graff discovered, officials set up very specific operation plans for every federal branch—even the IRS and post office.
West Virginia Gazette
Yep, even in the case of nuclear destruction, the government wasn’t going to let people off the tax hook so easily. The IRS had a post-bomb plan that covered how to appropriately tax damaged—rather, vaporized—property.
And where would people get money to pay taxes in an apocalyptic society? Uncle Sam had a plan for that, too: officials stashed away publicly scorned $2 bills in another bomb shelter to redistribute as currency.
Edward Betts / Wikimedia
Other federal departments had assigned duties as well: the Parks Department would set up refugee camps, the Department of Agriculture would divvy up rations, and the post office was charged with finding out who died in the blast.
At the time of the Cold War, a nuclear attack felt so imminent that Raven Rock had been fully manned and operated 24 hours per day—up until 1992. Operations were picked up and modernized once more after the September 11 attacks in 2001. They again run 24/7.
Though the ID card Graff received listed directions to only one secret bunker, his research uncovered half a dozen or so other doomsday shelters (like one beneath the Greenbrier Resort in West Virginia here), each more or less the same in function and design.
Greenbrier Hotel & Resort
In Cheyenne Mountain near Colorado Springs lie another hidden doomsday bunker. Like Raven Rock, this complex was built in the 1950s and served as “the command post responsible for defending both Canada and the U.S. from air attacks,” Graff said.
North American Aerospace Defense Command
Cheyenne Mountain had reservoirs of water and fuel, doctor’s offices, gyms, and even a Subway sandwich joint. So in the event of a nuclear attack, whoever was working the cash register at the time earned a spot among the surviving elite.
Through all of his research, though, Graff learned something unsettling. “If you’re trying to preserve and restart the government after an attack,” he explained to NPR, it “becomes this very existential question about what is America?”
As far as Graff could tell, the bunkers provided a disturbing answer. “The civilian population will be left to itself for weeks or months at a time,” he said, “and a small number of senior government officials will be spirited out to these bunkers.”
In other words, the government’s plot to rebuild post-nuclear war America didn’t really include the people. Preserving artifacts and the system of government took precedent, but in a time of chaos, what else could be done?
Graff dove deeper into his findings in a book he titled Raven Rock: The Story of the U.S. Government’s Secret Plan to Save Itself — While the Rest of Us Die. To think, his journey into some of the country’s biggest secrets started with just a lost ID badge!
But seriously, what would you do if the world was about to end? Most of us would probably just cross our fingers and hope for the best, but there are a few individuals out there who have gone to extreme measures to prepare.
John Hay had it all. He was the co-founder of popular tea brand Celestial Seasonings and owned lucrative real estate all over the country. Still, there was one lingering fear that kept him up at night…
Nuclear annihilation. After a period of de-escalation, tensions between the United States and the Soviet Union shot back up in the early 1980s. Both sides were stockpiling weapons and mobilizing troops all over the globe.
Courtesy of National Nuclear Security Administration
However, Hay was sure the Soviets were poised to strike first, and that the entire world would soon turn a bright shade of red. America couldn’t protect him from this threat.
But Hay could protect himself. He was a born self-starter. A former marine, Hay built Celestial from the ground-up by picking herbs in the Rocky Mountains and stuffing them into hand-sewn bags.
In 1983, Hay turned his attention to the tranquil Ozark Mountains in Arkansas. He purchased 240 acres of empty land for a mere $146,000. So how would this keep him safe?
Flickr / super*dave
Well, Hay wasn’t so much interested in the woods as he was in the gigantic limestone cave that ran beneath them. He believed it had the potential to house the ultimate fallout shelter. Construction began immediately.
Flickr / Dan
However, relations between America and the USSR soon improved, and it became increasingly unlikely that any nuclear war would take place. What could Hay do with his half-built bunker?
Hay, a shrewd businessman as always, knew how to adapt under changing circumstances. Maybe his underground abode could be used not just for survival, but for recreation. He drew up a new plan.
After a few more years of intense construction and furnishing, the Beckham Creek Cave Lodge was born. What was once a bomb shelter was now a subterranean, high-end hotel.
Hay naturally felt quite pleased with its transformation. “I didn’t want to come through the war like Tina Turner in Mad Max,” he said, “so I created Tinseltown.”
To stay in one of the cave’s four bedrooms, guests have to shell out as much as $1,600 per night. Although the rate is as steep as the mountains surrounding the hotel, the price is worth it!
Each morning you can take a hot shower that will wash away the problems and worries that you brought from above ground. That’s right, you can stay clean even when you’re living in a cave.
You can relax and watch a movie on the 75-inch LED television mounted on the limestone walls. The lodge’s thermal heating will keep you nice and cozy even in the dead of winter.
Later on, you could head over to the state-of-the-art kitchen to enjoy a classy dinner and good company. Unlike most bomb shelters, the Beckham Creek Cave Lodge has way more than just canned goods.
Of course, guests aren’t confined to the indoors. You can hike around the Ozarks and, if you’re lucky, catch a glimpse of the region’s majestic wildlife.
Facebook / Beckham Creek Cave Lodge
There’s plenty of nature still present inside the hotel too. The lodge preserved some of the original cave features, like the stalactites hanging from the ceiling, as well as this waterfall.
And the Beckham’s guests never have to be afraid. Should the danger of a nuclear attack ever resurface, the hotel can seal all the openings in the cave with concrete blocks.
Like any eccentric millionaire worth his salt, Hay also installed a helipad. That could really come in handy for all those instances when the average Joe travels by helicopter.
If you dream of making this luxurious cave your own, you are in luck. The property recently went on sale for the sum of $2.75 million. One lucky person can make the Beckham Creek Cave Lodge their own private retreat.
Just imagine sitting by the fire on the front deck, with nobody around for miles and miles. You could sip a mug of herbal tea and be grateful that John Hay’s paranoia created such a special place.