You're listening to Law and Order Criminal Justice System, a production of Wolf Entertainment and iHeart podcasts.

In the criminal justice system, landmark trials transcend the courtroom to reshape the law.

The brave many women who investigate and prosecute these cases are part of a select group that is defined American history.

These are their stories.

January first, twenty twenty five, three fifteen am, Bourbon Street, New Orleans.

The countdown had passed and New Orleans was still alive with celebration.

New Year's Eve was definitely insane.

You could barely move through the streets.

The atmosphere it's just happy.

Everybody's happy.

Jeremy Senske, fifty years old, in visiting from out of town, had spent the night surrounded by thousands of other revelers.

Around three am, he set up towards his hotel in his motorized wheelchair.

But in seconds the festivities gave way to mayhem.

There was a very loud noise, very weird, windy noise.

There was like two or three people to my left that were on the sidewalk.

There was a bunch of people to my right.

We all heard the noise and I looked over and they all had their mouths up and like gasping.

By the time I turned to the left, I was just that was it.

It was like an explosion, and I basically was just like going through the air and smashed my face off the sidewalk, and I was laying face first.

And the other thing I saw was the truck, the white truck.

It had accelerated through the crowd near Bourbon Street, no honking, no warning.

I couldn't figure out what had happened.

I didn't really think that I had been hit by the truck because I was very confused.

The truck crashed, the driver came out holding a weapon.

Gun started happening around me.

I pulled with bricocheting off the ground.

I started hearing people screaming, people crying.

He didn't know what to do.

Started screaming help.

No one acknowledged me.

Then out of the haze shapes began to emerge, dark figures, heavy, vast, long rifles.

I saw that the guys coming down the road with machine guns.

These were the good guys.

The people that walked towards the gunfire.

Someone came up the truck.

Someone screamed at them not to open up the door because there might be explosives in the door.

So now like screaming and help get me away from the truck.

It's gonna blow up.

I'm thinking there's explosive in his truck.

My adrenaline kicked in because I was actually scared to death.

So I pushed myself somehow onto my back.

I lifted up my arm and my whole body had blot all over it.

I reached on to my right leg and I picked it up.

In my leg was a mush like and a bunch of pieces, and I was holding my leg on my chest, screaming because I couldn't feel my legs.

I didn't know what was wrong.

What unfolded in the French Quarter that night wasn't random.

It was deliberate, an active terror, designed for maximum impact, time to strike when the world was watching.

And as Jeremy lay there, it felt like time stood still.

The first cough that came over to me, I said, my legs, my legs, my legs.

I screamed my legs, and I was like, what happened?

He said, we don't know.

You were trying to assess this situation, and he just looked at me and said, you're lucky to be alive.

Everyone around you is dead.

I got a call get out to LaGuardia Airport.

There's been a bombing.

There was a thirty two foot crater in front of what was left of the building.

I was trying to figure out, Am I dead?

Am I alive?

Where?

Alma?

I'm Anethega Nicolazzi.

That's why terrorism works.

It doesn't care who you are.

From Wolf Entertainment and iHeart Podcasts, this is Lawn Order Criminal Justice System.

In season one, we told the story of law enforcement's battle against the mafia, fought in back rooms, on wire taps, and in courtrooms.

This season, we're turning our focus to a threat that hides in plain sight, that's harder to predict and even harder to stop.

Terrorism you'll hear from law enforcement on the front lines and from survivors like Jeremy Sensky, ordinary people caught in the path of extraordinary destruction.

Because terrorism doesn't always look like war.

Sometimes it looks like Bourbon Street at three am, the place where a forty two year old United States Army veteran from Texas named shamsu Den Jabbar Rammed a rented Ford F one fifty into the crowd, and then moments later he opened fire on responding officers.

Police now telling us at least ten people were killed and thirty others injured.

Authorities also investigating shots fired in the area.

We're hearing that the person driving that truck then got out of the vehicle and started shooting.

There is some pretty disturbing video.

The damage was devastating, at least fourteen lives lost, more than fifty injured.

We'll come back to Bourbon Street later this season.

That attack happened just months ago, and it wasn't the only one since then.

There have been others Las Vegas, Palm Springs, Boulder.

These aren't isolated events.

They're more reminders of our present reality.

We're tracking how terrorism transformed and had the United States was forced to change with it.

Terrorism doesn't sleep, neither do the people fighting it.

Before we get to the motives and manhunts, we need to better understand what's led us to where we are today, because this kind of violence didn't just appear.

It wasn't always gunfiring, crowds or trucks used as weapons.

In decades past, terrorism was aimed more at institutions rather than people, until one day things changed.

On a January afternoon in nineteen seventy five, a bomb tore through a restaurant in Lower Manhattan, killing innocent people.

In this episode will take you inside that attack, but first we have to understand how the violence and the response to it evolved.

The seventies a decade defined by Vietnam, Watergate and by growing unrest at home.

America was divided and on edge.

Cities like New York, which we explored in season one, were gripped by crime.

Protesters clashed in the streets.

It was a decade of reckoning and reinvention and terrorism.

It was beginning to take root on American soil.

Here is someone who can definitely help break down its many complexities.

My name is Michael Jensen.

I'm the research director at the START Center at the University of Maryland.

I lead a team at the center that looks at extremism in the United States.

Michael's team is part of an organization known as START, which stands for a mouthful.

The National Consortium for the Study of Terrorism and Responses to Terrorism.

START was launched by the Department of Homeland Security in two thousand and five.

It tracks global terror trends and analyzes why people radicalize.

When the START Center was founded, there was virtually no data available on terrorism happening in the United States and outside of the United States.

Today, it's home to the Global Terrorism Database, the world's most comprehensive record of terror attacks, and trains the next generation of national security experts.

Michael's a scientist, a collector of facts, but part of that search for understanding led him back to a strange, almost forgotten chapter in US history.

People often forget that in the late nineteen sixties through about the mid nineteen seventies that terrorism in the United States was really synonymous with left wing activism.

At the time, the Vietnam War was tearing the country apart.

Cities were burning, the air thick with tear gas and rage.

Civil rights marches gave weight to violent clashes, and out of the chaos, new groups emerged.

There were a number of groups of movements dedicated to social justice issues, civil rights issues, anti capitalist, Marxist issues, even ethno national issues like Puerto Rican independents that were the ones that were on the forefront of engaging in crime and violence on behalf of their beliefs.

Groups like the Weather Underground and the Symbionese Liberation Army.

People calling themselves members of the Weather Underground last Night planted bombs and federal office buildings in Washington and Open California.

What was key in these organizations, though, was that their violence was largely symbolic.

They weren't trying to hurt and kill large numbers of individuals.

They were trying to attack iconic targets to draw attention to their cause.

They often targeted symbols of power, banks, police stations, government offices, and they were prolific.

In nineteen seventy alone, there was well over one thousand bombings that took place in the United States that were committed by these groups.

Most of them did not produce fatalities or injuries.

They were property crimes.

The goal wasn't mass casualties.

It was spectacle.

These groups wanted to shake the system, not very bodies, at least not yet.

You know, I always liked history as a child.

That's John Fox, the FBI's official historian.

He's been digging into the bureau's past since he joined in nineteen ninety nine.

In the nineteen seventies, we saw the FBI primarily focusing on what would be considered terrorist attacks here at home, domestic terrorist.

Attacks, bombings, hijackings, shootouts.

The Bureau wasn't even sure what to call it.

One group made their answer loud and clear.

Police are intensifying their efforts since yesterday's incidents.

They're distributing this poster all over town.

These four individuals are wanted by the FBI and the police in connection with several FALN bombings.

The FALN was a group advocated revolution to separate Puerto Rico from the United States.

The FALN or Armed Forces of National Liberation in English, a nationalist group with the cause, a manifesto, and a bomb making playbook, and unlike some of the others, they weren't just out to make noise.

They wanted the government to feel it.

They engaged in a series of bombings and other illegal activities to try and draw interest and concern about their cause and ultimately to spark revolutionary activity.

The FALN wasn't acting in a vacuum.

Their campaign fit into a much larger, older story, one that stretched back more than a century.

The rise of the Puerto Rican nationalist groups traces its origins back to the mid eighteen hundreds and the rise of anarchists and revolutionary communist ideologies.

But over time it broadens out as the more radical protest elements to use violence to make their point.

That history of political violence wasn't confined to Puerto Rico.

It mirrored a broader global pattern where ideology, identity, and armed resistance converged.

Here's Michael Jensen again, this.

Is the era of anti colonial movements across the globe.

In places like Africa.

We saw similar movements in the nineteen sixties rising up to defeat colonial powers, and in their view, they saw the United States as just that it was a colonial power.

Puerto Rico had been colonized, and according to international law, they had the right to defend themselves and to defeat colonizers by any means necessary, including violence.

The fal and picked up that threat and detonated it in the heart of American cities, namely New York with its large Puerto Rican community.

The Big Apple became I'm a focal point.

Their bombs hit Wall Street offices, the Bronx, even Middown Manhattan.

Their cause Puerto Rican independence hadn't gone away, and they had no interest in fading quietly.

If anything, their campaign was about to grow louder and deadlier.

The ideas were already in motion.

The anger had been building.

Then came the moment it literally exploded.

January twenty fourth, nineteen seventy five, was a gray winter day in Manhattan.

That afternoon, an agent hurried into the squad room at the Upper east Side headquarters of the FBI.

He came out and he said, Hey, I got a big bombing down in Lower Manhattan.

Can you help out?

So we grabbed our bags and away we what.

It soon became a day that FBI agent Richard Banteu would never forget.

Richard and his fellow agents drove through traffic heading south at lightning speed.

Nine one one calls flooded the city's police stations to report that there'd been an explosion.

We pulled up I had never heard of from since Tavern.

But the target of the blast wasn't a government building, police station, or a bank.

It was a quaint little lunch spot.

The place, even back then, was a throwback red brick colonial charm, surrounded by the glass and steel of the Financial district.

But as the FBI agents arrived that day, it wasn't business as usual.

I just remember seeing an awful lot of grass within view.

It was mayhem there.

But let me tell you, the New York City Police had the area cording off maintained in a crime scene.

Police pushed back the crowd and scanned for more bombs.

First responders locked down the scene.

Medics moved fast, helping the injured working triage on the sidewalk.

The worst got loaded into ambulances.

First fire cruise check for structural damage.

What was chaos a moment ago became controlled.

Nothing moved unless it had to.

Every fragment, every scorch mark was potential evidence.

That's where Richard came in.

When he pulled up to the corner of Pearl and Broad Street in Lower Manhattan, he was hit with a signature sign of a bombing.

If you go to these things, I don't care where it is, it's got to smell to it.

Got to get on your hands and knees and crawl around in the dirt and the dust and see what you can find.

That's where he uncovered a major clue.

We started finding nails.

Not from the building, but from inside the bomb.

I personally think if I was building a bomb, I could have done a better job than nails, but that was just simply shrapnel.

The nails may have pointed to an amateur, but the bomb.

That was not just a small bomb.

That turned out to be twenty two sticks of dynamite.

Richard continued to crawl through the torn out tavern.

And we're collecting various items which would be appropriate for starting a criminal investigation.

That's when he happened upon something that will stay with him forever.

I was crawling around on the floor and I remember distinctly finding something and I said to one of the investigators.

I picked it up.

I said, what is this?

And they looked at it.

They felt it.

It was like sponge.

I would say, no more than an inch, but it was all over.

So we decided we were going to put it in a container and we started collecting it, and before it was over with, we had like a shoe box filled with this material.

We couldn't figure out what it was, and it was dru happened a snutch.

So we sent it off to the FBI lab with a big question mark.

When they got the answer, it was something no one wanted to hear, he says.

We found out what it was, I said, what's that?

He says human remains.

Whoever, the poor soul that was standing there when this thing went off so much force just totally took his torso and blew it to little pieces like that.

The attack killed four people and injured over sixty.

Countless more were impacted in ways that would stay with them forever, wives, husbands, friends, families, children.

My name is Joe Connor, and my father was murdered by the Faln Puerto Rican Marxist terrorists on January twenty fourth, nineteen seventy five, at Francis Tavern.

On the day of the bombing, Joe was just nine years old.

His father was Frank Connor.

Frank was a young banker who left his home in New Jersey every day to go to his job in New York City's financial district.

In the evening, he'd return home to his wife and to play with his two sons.

My father was a New York City kid, the son.

Of immigrants in pursuit of the American dream.

My grandmother got a job as a cleaning lady at the old Morgan Bank Morgan Guarantee Trust Company, and she worked nights so she could be home with my father during the day.

In high school, Frank's mom helped him get a job at the bank.

He started off as a clerk and eventually worked his way up to assistant vice president.

Frank was nineteen when he first met his wife, Joe's mom, at a dance in New York's Old City Center.

She just saw the back of his head at first and said, I want to dance with that guy.

And her friends are laughing at her, saying, you don't even know what he looks like, and he turned around and asked her to dance out of nowhere so she knew.

Then.

The two married and had three boys.

The youngest son passed away at a very young age, leaving the Connors a family of four.

The family moved to New Jersey.

Frank juggled night school, a day job, and together with his wife, raising two boys, but he also found time for some fun.

He had tons of friends, more than I've ever had, really, Like, they moved to New Jersey and the next thing you know, they have a bar in the basement, and you know, it was like the early seventies and people like seem to have a lot of fun, and there was always people around, and he was good to be.

Around, even with the long hours in full house.

Frank always made room for what mattered most time with his boys.

My brother's two years older, so whenever we would like as a family do stuff like together, so we might go down and play basketball whatever, it was always Tom and my mom on the same team and me and my dad because I was the youngest, so it was always us two on the same team.

So I always felt like, yeah, you know, he's my teammate to me, you know, he could do anything.

To Frank's boys, he was their hero.

My brother had just made his communion and my dad was going to take his communion money and spend it on a tent because we want to go camping.

So we were at the sporting good store and I saw Tom sever Mit autographed by Tom sever and you know, anyone who lived around here in the early seventies, my god, Tom sever So that's what I wanted, but he was like looking at me, like, you know, we can't afford that.

So I went home and I didn't get my Mit.

And a couple of days later, I guess I was hanging out down at the park and Tom came down and said, Dad wants to see and I'm like, oh god, what did I do now?

So I rode my bike home and when I got home, there.

Was the mit.

That was something I'll never forget and I'll always treasure because he didn't have to get that for me.

He didn't.

It wasn't my birthday or.

Anything, but there would soon come a birthday that will stick with Joe forever.

January twenty fourth, eighteen seventy five was planned to be a special day.

We were going to be celebrating my ninth birthday, which was January twentieth.

On my brother's eleventh, They'd.

Already celebrated with friends, so this Friday was just going to be family.

The brothers went to school, their mom stayed home preparing their favorite dinner.

Frank went to work in downtown New York City, as he always did.

That day, Frank had lunch plans with two clients.

At the last minute, the location of their lunch moved to a different restaurant.

There was a problem with the reservation, so they decided they would walk down to Frances, which is right around the block.

The men sat down at a table in the tavern, ordered their food and talked while they ate.

They were getting to the end of their meal, and I think the check had just come.

One of the guys, Charlie Murray, talked about seeing a guy come in that kind of looked out of place with a knapsack, set it on a stair behind their table where they were sitting, and I think I was scruffy looking.

This was Wall Street in nineteen seventy five.

People dressed to impress, sharp suits, crisp white shirts, and polus shoes, business formal with a hint of swagger, not scruff so someone like.

This guy would look very out of place.

He dropped his package and walked out, and within a couple of minutes it detonated.

The blast tore through the restaurant, shattering windows and collapsing walls.

It was about twenty five pounds of explosives and shrapnel, absolutely intended to inflict as much death as it could.

Word of the attack hadn't yet traveled the seventeen miles northwest to te Neeck, New Jersey.

Tom and I went to school and came home and went out to play.

Then Joe heard his mother scream, and the afternoon warped from a day of soon to be birthday celebrations into something surreal.

She called us in from playing and she said there had been an explosion downtown and she told us my dad was there.

At first, Joe assumed the best a child's instinct to believe that their parent is invincible.

I remember thinking, well, he's probably injured.

He was my dad, right, He's indestructible.

His mother's intuition said otherwise.

She had called him at work and someone else picked up, and she said she knew immediately that he was killed.

Nine year old Joe still held on to hope.

I remember thinking, well, he's probably like buried under debris, you know, bricks or rock or something.

The fireman will will get them, you know, they'll find them and it'll be okay.

But as people began arriving at the house, family friends, coworkers, the silence was telling.

We got the news a few hours later.

That night, the young boys crawled into bed with their mom, the three of them huddled together in grief, still in shock and trying to make sense of what happened.

I remember asking, my mom, is Grandma's still our grandmother?

And you know my mom was great?

She said, well, absolutely, in very strong terms, which was very reassuring, because then I kind of knew that the family'd be kept together.

In that moment, Joe Connor wasn't thinking about terrorism, or politics, or his decades of advocacy that would follow.

He was just a child who lost his father, confused about what happens to families when someone dies, not wanting his to fall apart.

It was devastating to go one minute from celebrating your ninth birthday with your dad to him being dead for no reason.

Trying to move through such trauma and grief is unthinking doable to most people, let alone for a child, But human beings often proved to be remarkably resilient even in the wake of incredible tragedy.

As mc Grandma Conor would say, we just did the best we could.

In the days following the January nineteen seventy five bombing at New York City's Francis Tavern, the Connor family soon learned who was responsible.

They left a communic kee around the corner from Frances in a phone booth.

For those of you old enough to know what a phone booth is, it left words to the effect that this was an attack by the Faln Armed Forces for Puerto Rican Independence, who hit reactionary corporate executives is the terms that they used, and that's a very Marxist type language.

Michael Jensen says that message was rooted in retaliation.

The reason that they did this is because there had been a bombing that occurred in Puerto Rico in which a couple of young independence activists had been killed.

The group blamed the CIA for orchestrating this bombing, and the Francis Tavern bombing was their response to it.

And the location of the attack wasn't chosen at random.

Here again is John Fox.

The Francis Tavern traces back to our revolutionary days and was a key meeting place for some of the planning and peoples who were involved in our revolution back in the mid seventeen seventies.

You know, it's where George Washington bade farewell to his officers after the revolutionary war.

It's really historic and significant place.

It's where Alexander Hamilton and the Sons of Liberty met.

It was chosen for that very reason as a target.

By bombing it, the the FALN sent a calculated message they weren't just fighting for Puerto Rican independence, they were striking at the very foundations of the American identity.

But this wasn't just cryptic symbolism.

As Michael Jensen puts it, it was a turning point.

It was really like a departure for the organization in its level of violence.

The fla in actually went out of their way to commit attack in which they knew people would be hurt and killed.

Until then, most domestic bombings were late night blasts, empty offices, statements, without bloodshed.

France's tavern was different.

This wasn't an accident.

John Fox says, it was a shift in tactics.

The bombings claimed by the FALN were aimed at at least some civilian casualties.

Placed and detonated around the lunch hour, obviously meant to be a more high pro file and populated event.

Francis Tavern marked a pivot to deadly force.

The bomb was timed and placed for maximum civilian impact.

It wasn't aimed at anyone in particular, but that was exactly the point.

The explosion was meant to kill whoever happened to be there at that very moment.

My father moved his table.

If he didn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation, might be talking to somebody else.

That's why terrorism works.

That's why terrorism works as a political tool because it's random and it's indiscriminate.

It doesn't care who you are.

Anyone can die at any point.

I think people really need to understand that that no one's immune from this crap, and you don't have to go around your life worrying about it, but you do kind of have to understand that it can happen.

It could happen to anybody.

Unfortunately, this is how we understand terrorism to work today.

Leans meant not only to destroy, but also to shock, spread fear, and force attention.

But in nineteen seventy five that idea hadn't fully taken hold.

It was a lesson being learned in real time.

As this new brutal reality became clear, law enforcement also needed to pivot to try and tackle it, and as the bombs kept exploding, they would need to make a plan and fast.

The bombing at Francis Tavern sent shockwaves through New York City.

The FBI quickly ramped up its surveillance and cracked down of the Faln.

They never left the news cycle, and they couldn't catch them.

Despite the pressure and urgency, the fal In seemingly stayed one step ahead.

They vanished into safe houses and silence, leaving investigators with little left to track.

But over time law enforcement did make headway.

There was an unnumbered, undated Communica's that body fail and logo that used the rhetoric that has become quite common in their communic cayse.

There were a number of FALN members arrested over the coming years.

Several of them were associated with the frances tavern bombing.

Arrest trickled and slowly, some tied to bomb plots, others to weapons stockpiles, and some suspected in the France's tavern attack.

These guys were extremely disciplined.

They left one fingerprint in there one hundred and thirty bombings, but other than that, they were absolutely clean in the way that they went about their business.

They were Cuban trained, financed to a large degree the art of spycraft through the Cuban intelligence services.

So the FBI and the MPD really didn't know what they were up against with these guys.

And at the center of the f ALN's destruction was still out there as dedicated to the cause as he'd ever been.

Here's Michael Jensen again.

William Morales was the f ALNS chief bomb maker, and he was discovered in nineteen seventy eight because he accidentally detonated an explosive device in which he severely injured himself and disfigured himself.

That's how the authorities came to identify and to nab him.

When the bomb exploded yesterday, it blew up in the hands and face of William Morales.

Today police told us that they've known for some time of Morales's link to f ALN suspect Carlos Alberto Torres.

He'd been building bombs in a secret apartment in Queens and you may know the saying, if you play with fire, eventually you get burned.

On what would have been by dad's thirty seventh birthday, July twelfth, nineteen seventy eight, William Morales was torking a pipe bomb when it exploded.

There must have been some of the explosive got caught in the treads and when he torqued, it blew up and blew off nine of his fingers, one of his eyes, and ripped through the Queen's bomb factory.

But even mangled and half blind, his self declared mission came first.

He immediately turned on the gas in the place and went into the bathroom to try to shred evidence.

While severely injured, Morales survived.

He was arrested, He was charged and convicted, sentenced to eighty nine ninety years in prison.

He actually ended up escaping from a prison ward out of Bellevue Hospital, and he eventually made his way to Cuba and Castro gave him safe haven there.

Instead of serving out his sentence, Morales has remained in Cuba, avoiding accountability.

And for Joe, it felt like a second kind of trauma, a betrayal.

This is a guy with one finger and one eye being that dedicated to his cause.

That event woke us up.

That was jarring, and to me, Morales became the face of the faln in my head.

And you know, faln and ev il felt like they were the same word to me.

For decades, Joe fought to bring Morales back to the United States.

I started writing letters to the State Department, to the Justice Department, to Secretary of State and warn Christopher.

I think was at the time, because I wanted Morales return.

That was before we even had emails, so these were letters and I still have some of them.

They you know, were sent back and forth where the you know, they acknowledged that, you know, he's Morales is there, he's a terrorist, but we have no extradition treaty with Cuba, which as it turns out, isn't exactly true.

So I really kind of pushed that, and.

To this day there are still demands for him to be extradited back to the United States to serve out his sentence.

There's obviously much more to this story and many more layers to go, and we'll get to some of that, but for right now, this is the point to remember.

No one was held accountable, specifically for my dad's murder.

It's another type of wound that remains open for the victims, the survivors, and those impacted by the blast.

No justice for the four who were murdered by that bomb.

It was my dad, Alejandro Berger, and Jim Gezork.

And the fourth victim, Harold Sherburn, succumbed to his wounds at the hospital.

For the ones who made it out alive.

Bill Newhall was at the table and he survived and he's still passing shrapnel.

He still has hearing issues.

He says this will eventually kill him.

Just didn't happen that day.

Each tragedy affects not only the actual victims, It goes many more layers deep.

My kids even are affected by it, and they never met their grandfather.

I mean, my poor kids.

They had nothing to do with any of this, but they've suffered because of when had happened, and probably from my fighting it.

As the survivors of the Francis tavern bombing continued to reel, law enforcements scrambled to tackle this growing threat, and they were building the system while under fire.

While threats multiplied in the shadows, from separatists and nationalists to far left radicals, the blueprint on how to carry out these attacks was spreading faster than their response, and as the enemy evolved, America's defenses looked for new ways to meet the threat.

In the nineteen seventies, the assignment of responsibility and even the definitions of crimes related to such things weren't always cleared, and often in times the state or local police would take precedence.

It was a patchwork response to a national problem.

Departments agencies both local and national continued to respond, but the one thing they lacked was an actual integrated system.

While they shared, there was no real time intelligence sharing.

They worked together, yet not as a unified front.

Federal agents, bomb squads, arson units all working parallel cases rather than lock and step.

And as the dust was still settling from the Francis Tavern bombing, terror struck again, we had to up the.

Jane juppet program to bring you this further update in connection with the tragic disaster at LaGuardia Airport tonight, in which a powerful bomb explosion that devastated the baggage area in the main terminal at the airport killed at least twelve persons and injured at least seventy five others.

Next time on Law and Order Criminal Justice System.

R Ricola switchboard, saying there's been a bombing at the TWA terminal.

The explosion actually impelled building material, metal glad bodies inside.

There was an extensive fire.

This really was the era of mass bombing campaigns, and the FBI had a very very long list of usual suspects to go through to try to figure out who did this.

Some suspected fal and others suspected Croatian nationalists.

Law and Order Criminal Justice System is a production of Wolf Entertainment and iHeart Podcasts.

Our host is Anna Sega Nicolazzi.

The show was written by Cooper Mall, Executive produced by Dick Wolf, Elliot Wolf and Even Michael at Wolf Entertainment on behalf of iHeart Podcasts.

Executive producers Trevor Young and Matt Frederick, with supervising producer Chandler Mays and producer Jesse Funk.

This season is executive produced by Anna Sega Nicolazzi.

Our researchers are Luke Stantz and Carolyn Tolmage.

Editing and sound designed by Trevor Young and Jesse Funk.

Original music by John O'Hara, original theme by Mike Post with additional music by Steve Moore and additional voice over by me Steve Zernkelton.

Special thanks to Fox five in New York for providing archival material for the show.

For more podcasts from iHeart in Wolf Entertainment, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your favorite shows.

Thanks for listening.