Cold Open
The following presentation is not suitable for young children. Listener discretion is advised.
On a hot and sweaty Friday morning in June 1983, Chen Chui, walked into work at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in the Upper East Side of New York. He was the systems administrator, so he managed all of the state-of-the-art facility’s computers.
SFX: NYC STREET SOUNDS
But as he sat down at his desk in the machine room in the hospital’s basement, he noticed something strange. The crown jewel of the hospital: the Digital VAX 11/780 computer that monitored radiation treatments for more than 250 patients, was quiet. Eerily quiet.
It was a top-of-the-line computer, more than 5 feet tall, connected via telephone lines to a network of machines around the world. It was the hospital’s pride and joy, and helped cement Sloan Kettering’s place as one of the leading hospitals in the country. Chen had gotten used to its steady hum of white noise.
But this morning it was dead quiet.
Shit.
The VAX mainframe computer that maintained all the hospital records—from patient lists to insurance information—had lost power. This was bad. It cost over $100,000 to buy a new one, what would it cost to replace? With a quick prayer, he restarted the machine…
SFX: COMPUTER HUM.
And it started back up, it had just turned off during the night. No big deal, but just to be safe, he pulled up the night’s logs to see what had happened. Maybe there was a power failure?
SFX: OLD-SCHOOL COMPUTER PRINTING SOUNDS.
He scanned the logs, nothing crazy, just routine logins, nothing outrageous… until he noticed a file with $1,500 in billing logs was missing.
And somehow during the night five new admin-level accounts had been created.
Somehow someone had gotten access to their machine, and had found someone’s password to break in. Security set up cameras around the mainframe. They’d catch whoever did it.
Then, just to be safe, Chen deleted the new accounts, and changed everyone’s passwords. Even if somehow someone got past the security cameras, they wouldn’t be able to log in.
SFX: KEYS CLATTERING, MAINFRAME BEEPING. hed back his chair and ran to the hospital administrator’s office. He’d tell his boss in person.
Later that week, in the FBI field office in Manhattan, an agent calmly listened to Chen’s story of the remote break-in. They wrote down notes, and asked probing questions about the computer’s modem. Chen wasn’t sure if they believed him. As they ushered him out of the office, Chen stopped and looked them in the eye.
I swear it’s happening!
The agent nodded. And said:
What if I told you that I heard the same story from someone at Los Alamos?
Los Alamos, like the nuclear facility? Someone was hijacking computers all over the country, and the FBI was powerless to stop them.
SFX: MODEM SCREECH TURNS INTO MUSIC.
On this episode: Pac-Man, nuclear codes, and a real-life WarGames. I’m Keith Korneluk and this is Modem Mischief.
Act 1
Picture this, it’s the early 1980s. In a suburban house, a fresh-faced teenage boy named David Lightman is about to make a huge mistake. He’s a smart kid but he spends more time at the arcade and trying to impress girls than on his homework. He wishes he could just play videogames at the arcade, but instead he’s stuck at home.
His family just got one of those new personal computers, or PCs, and he wants to see what he can do with it. So first David uses the computer to go check out his high school’s grade system, where he finds out that there’s no real security protecting their records. He can instantly turn his mediocre grades into A’s…
SFX: KEYBOARD TAPS
Then David starts looking for what else he can do. He finds a secretive server, and guesses a password. Somehow he’s right. And inside there’s a gold mine: the computer at the center asks if he wants to play a game.
SFX: VINTAGE 80s GAME FX
But little does David know that this server is really a supercomputer connected to America’s nuclear stockpile, and this game is the beginning of nuclear war. All of a sudden this teen boy is on the verge of starting World War 3.
SFX: AIR RAID SIREN
Yes, you probably guessed it, that’s the plot of the 1983 movie WarGames, and that fresh-faced teen hacker David Lightman was played by Matthew Broderick. It’s just escapist Hollywood bullshit, right?
Realistic or not, when it was released into theaters on June 3, 1983, it became a bona fide hit. Wargames made nearly 7 million dollars in its first weekend, which in that crowded summer made it number 3 for the week, just behind those little arthouse movies called Return of the Jedi, and Steven Spielberg’s E.T.
MUSIC CUE: STAR WARS/ET SOUND-ALIKE
But then it stayed in the top 10 all summer-long, then all the way into the fall. It was a smash success. After 30 weeks in theaters it made just under 80 million in 1983 dollars. Everyone in America was watching WarGames and talking about teenage hackers.
But it was just a Hollywood fantasy. Matthew Broderick got the girl, saved the world, and audiences got a nice little vicarious thrill. Anyone serious-minded knew that teenagers weren’t about to start hacking into the nuclear arsenal.
Some teenagers who weren’t so serious-minded sat in that theater, and probably laughed a little.
That’s so unrealistic
One teen boy in glasses whispered to another.
When we broke into the nuclear facilities it was way easier.
The other threw popcorn at him and laughed.
Shut up man, we’re gonna get in trouble.
They laughed, but they weren’t joking. Six fresh-faced Wisconsin teenagers took their new PCs and–looking for videogames too—broke into the nuclear facility of Los Alamos for real.
Just like WarGames, these teenagers stumbled into things they shouldn’t have, but there weren’t any talking computers for them, instead they found the FBI, and participated in a cat-and-mouse chase that would change hacking in America
SFX: AIR RAID SIREN MIXED WITH PAC-MAN SOUNDS
Let’s take it back a few years to 1975. Tim Winslow was 13 when he saw his first computer in class at Christopher Latham Shoals Middle School in the southside of Milwaukee. His teacher invited a computer operator to come to class who brought along a portable terminal from Digital Equipment Corporation or DEC—the same people who’d make Chen Chui’s VAX computer 8 years later.
13-year-old Tim stared at the machine—it almost looked like a typewriter with legs on it. He didn’t know why but he wanted to use it. The operator asked if anyone wanted to try it—everyone’s hands shot up, none higher than Winslow. But he was in the back of the class, and they ran out of time for him to get to it before the bell rang for him.
SFX: SCHOOL BELL RINGING
As the students ran out, Tim stopped by the terminal, almost drawn to it. He nervously asked his teacher if he could stay late and use it. His teacher smiled at the operator, and said sure. The operator dialed into a nearby mainframe, and showed Tim a math program. It would be one of the most important moments in Tim’s life.
Being on a computer was the first time he felt like he had some agency in his life. No more parents telling him what to do, no more graffiti-covered streets he would have to bike through to get home. If he could figure out the codes, he could do anything. If only on a computer.
But being a computer lover in 1975 was immeasurably harder than today. Back in the late 70s, computers were still by and large mainframes—big machines that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and were only owned by big organizations like hospitals, banks, and universities.
Without a computer, Tim instead read everything he could, and at age 17 he convinced the local boy scouts to sponsor a club where he and other teens would go to a grey box-y building by the harbor every other Tuesday night to use the machines at Milwaukee’s IBM headquarters.
SFX: TELETYPE MACHINES TAPPING AND HUMMING
Over the next 3 years, he practiced programming, learned about advances in computing power, and—probably most importantly—met other kids his age who cared about computers.
Kids like Gerald Wondra, a year older than him, the son of an electrical engineer. The special thing about Gerald—or rather his dad—is that he was one of the first people in the Milwaukee area to have an Apple II (“2”) computer at home.
SFX: APPLE II STARTUP SOUNDS (like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zc6F1u2Plpw)
The early 80s were a revolutionary time in the history of computers. The Apple II was one of the first successful Personal Computers (or PCs) that weren’t just those massive mainframes like the VAX that Sloan Kettering had. Instead it was possible—if unlikely—to actually own a computer.
By the end of the decade, computers would be nearly everywhere. But for the early 80s Milwaukee, having that Apple II was a VERY big deal. Gerald and Tim started spending their nights hanging out and using the computer as much as they could.
Soon Tim and Gerald would be joined by Neal Patrick (not the actor), just 16 in 1983, a student at nearby Rufus King High School. They were soon joined by John Sauls, 15-year-old Paul Sundquist, and one other boy from the computer club whose name still hasn’t been released.
They were all young, the youngest was 15, the oldest 22. All boys, all white, all fascinated with computers. It was fun to finally have friends, and to finally fit in. If only with each other.
Sure, they knew they were nerdy at a time before it was cool to be nerds, but hey at least they had each other. They were learning about computers, but also just trying to show off to each other. And if their parents thought it was a little strange, well it was the early 80s, better they’re playing with computers than getting into real trouble.
SOUND CUE: NANCY REAGAN “JUST SAY NO TO DRUGS”
In time, each of them would get computers at home—either from cajoling their parents or saving up money from odd jobs. But they kept hanging out because they’d found a connection with each other.
Soon though, they got bored with their parent’s games, and they started looking around for something more. Neal didn’t remember who it was that first tried, but in 1982 one of the kids showed off a cool new trick they’d found using their modem.
Did you know you can dial into a random computer with your modem?
The other kids didn’t quite buy it at first. So he had them all come over to his house one day after school. They all took off their shoes, said hi to his Mom, and got some snacks. When everything was ready, he smiled, and showed it off:
SFX: MODEM DIALING UP
This was still years before the world wide web was invented. The internet of the early 80s was a primitive place. Most computers connected to each other using a system called Telnet, closely linked to the phone line. And there weren’t that many computers on Telnet, so it was really easy to find any random computer.
It was sort of like dialing phone numbers in movies from the 1930s
SFX: ROTARY PHONE RINGS
(OLD-TIMEY VOICE) Operator, get me Michigan 3-4-0
Neal explained it like this:
The way that worked, you contacted a computer by putting in the area code it was located in, then a number indicating which computer it was in the system
So, to go to New York, you’d put in the area code, 212, and then, say, 23. If that didn’t work you’d try 212 24. It was as simple as that.
So whoever that first of the teens to figure it out was, he showed the guys. He dialed a random area code, then put in a computer’s number. The modem dialed…
SFX: ANALOG DIALING SOUNDS
And their jaws dropped. On his computer screen, a prompt from a strange computer showed up. He could log into some random computer a thousand miles away. The kids were all impressed. Too bad they couldn’t log in though, what were the odds they could figure out a way in?
Not so fast
Tim Winslow went to one of the books he’d carried around for years. He recognized that login screen. That was from a DEC computer. He had the manual for DECs.
Try using the default login
Just like the wifi networks you see that still have the default names attached, DEC computers had default usernames that someone would have to change. This was 1982, not a lot of people thought about that step.
Tim typed in the default username…
SFX: TYPING
SFX: DING!
They had logged in.
The teens giggled, excited, surprised, not sure what to think. They had logged into a random computer half the country away.
What are you doing with the telephone!?
A parent roared, and the teens had to pack it up for the day.
Tim biked home. He took the normal shortcut under a bridge covered in gang signs, all named after the streets the gangs came from, like the 2-7s who ran 27th street, or the 1-9s who ran 19th. But he didn’t pay that much attention, he was too busy thinking about what he’d seen.
Later that night on their BBS, one of them typed out a message.
I just logged into another computer.
SFX: TYPING
No way.
Pandora’s Box had opened up. Each of these 6 teens had computers at home. They knew what was possible. There’s no way they wouldn’t start testing some boundaries.
That first night, each of them tried dialing different numbers, and trying different machines. Most of the time they didn’t get into anything good. But they dialed into Los Angeles, 310, New York, 212, Chicago 312…
By the end of the night, as the sun was just starting to rise, the teens had had more fun than they’d had in years. And more than that, they felt powerful. They’d been able to get inside the records of banks, universities, and companies all over. They saw personal files from therapist offices, and the early news from a nearby newspaper. They weren’t trying to get rich, they just wanted the access.
There’s no way they would stop doing this. They promised they’d keep going—no computer was safe from them.
We’re kind of like a gang
Tim said, remembering the gang signs he’d seen earlier.
Yeah but what do we call ourselves?
Looking at the string of area codes, it was obvious. Their turf wasn’t just some street, they owned the telephone lines.
We’re the 414s.
This is the story of the 414s, a group of teenagers who hacked into the most protected corners of the nascent internet. These 6 kids would change the way the internet worked, and start a nationwide manhunt, all because they wanted to make their mark on the world.
Act 2
For being one of the earliest and most notorious hacking groups of all time, the 414s were also some of the most wholesome. Tim Winslow, Neal Patrick, Gerald Wondra, and 3 others would meet after Boy Scouts meetings Tuesday nights.
They’d sit in the park eating club sandwiches and waiting for their parents to pick them up, and talk in low tones about the hacks they were doing. They were like a Wisconsin nice version of what hackers could be.
SFX: MIDWESTERN NIGHTTIME PARK SOUNDS-DOGS BARKING, KIDS LAUGHING
But they had figured out a backdoor into most computers hooked up to telephone lines. Which, even in the early 80s, meant they had access to some of the least understood underbelly of the American economy, from big companies to universities, and no one knew about it.
Over the course of the next few months, they’d pick area codes and dial, trying to find all the computers they could get into. Then once they’d found a machine, they’d experiment finding ways in.
They didn’t have any sophisticated password breakers like you see in the movies, because they didn’t need them. No one in 1982 was that worried about security online.
SFX: COMPUTER TYPING
Tim Winslow, 20, had set up a private 414s Bulletin Board System for them that he just called “414 Private.” In this early forum, anyone who found a computer that worked would log the address. Then anyone who found passwords would save them on the board.
It was incredibly incriminating. But then again, look at how weak most computer’s security systems were. What was the risk to them? They were kids just playing around, and it’s not like anyone knew they were doing this.
But they were also teen boys, so it wasn’t enough to just break into systems. They also wanted to get something out of it.
SFX: PAC-MAN LOADING SCREEN
Getting new games was hard in Milwaukee. But online? Maybe. The holy grail would be if they could find a video game company’s computer so they could download and share a new game release.
They’d frantically dial Silicon Valley’s area code—650—followed by computer numbers. But they didn’t get a lot of traction. Too many game companies knew to secure their computers and change the default passwords.
SFX: PAC-MAN LOSING SOUND
But luckily IT departments in big institutions of the early 80s were made up of guys not much older than the 414s, who also loved playing games. So more than one big computer hooked up to a big corporation had some games on it that the IT department would play when they didn’t have any work to do.
So the 414s would break in and search the files. And if they were lucky, they’d find a game. If anyone found one, they’d post a message on the BBS with something like:
Hey guys, found an unlocked Swordquest: Earthworld at 517-23.
They’d play until they got bored, and move on. But, just like any other good gang, they’d leave their tag. So the next time an IT person played a game, they might wonder who that top score was that called themselves “414.”
SFX: VIDEOGAME HIGH SCORE SOUNDS
And when the 414s couldn’t find games on a system, they’d make their own fun.
One weekend, Neal got the guys together to pull a prank. They all logged in using the default user name to a mainframe that was hooked up to a massive printer system—maybe one in a library, maybe a university. It could be hard sometimes to tell what the computer they were in did.
But whatever it was, it had printers that could print out thousands of pages. Laughing, the teens ordered the machine to print everything.
SFX: PRINTING SOUNDS
One, two, three… the pages started to fly. The boys couldn’t see what they’d done, but laughing, they emptied the printer trays, just printing blank pages to fill the room.
SFX: PAGES FLYING
They’d timed it so no one would be in the office when it happened. No one would notice until they came in on Monday. When they’d find reams of papers everywhere and wonder what happened.
SFX: TEEN BOYS LAUGHING
It wasn’t enough just to play some IT guys’ games, and play some light pranks on people they couldn’t see. They were competitive, they wanted to see how far they could take it.
As 1983 started, the group got more adventurous. They wanted to try to find more exciting targets than just cement companies and libraries.
Tim was on other Bulletin Board Systems for hackers like Plover-NET & P-80, and—like any other teenager—wanted to be able to brag. To really make a name for themselves, the 414s would have to break into something big and famous.
But it was hard, a lot of the exciting targets were in places like New York—area code 212 or 917—or San Francisco—area code 415. And those could have hundreds or thousands of computers hooked up. Finding a specific computer was like hunting for a needle in a haystack.
One of them realized that there was one high profile target that would make the 414s famous. And it wasn’t hidden in the maze of a busy city.
SFX: NUCLEAR TEST SIREN
Los Alamos New Mexico is out in the high desert of northern New Mexico. It was one of the most remote parts of the continental United States during the 1940s. Which made it the perfect place for the Manhattan Project—the group that invented the atomic bomb.
SFX: BOMB GOING OFF.
The lab in New Mexico, the Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory, was one of the most secure and protected places in North America. The secrets there were so dangerous the American government would kill to protect it.
And the government liked that the lab was out in the middle of nowhere, it made it harder for people to break in.
SFX: DUST PASSING
But being out in the middle of nowhere made it a lot easier for the 414s. Remember how I said they found computers by dialing an area code, then following it up with a computer number?
Whereas finding anything specific in a place like Los Angeles with thousands of computers could be almost impossible, in Los Alamos—area code 505—there really weren’t that many computers. If you found one, there was a decent chance it was connected to the Nuclear Lab.
It’s a little like WarGames, except they really wanted to break in, it wasn’t just a coincidence. So Gerald, Tim, Neal, and the rest, dialed 505, then tried a computer code.
SFX: DIALING
505-1… nothing!
505-2… no default password
505-3… it’s the Albuquerque hospital
505-4… look at this.
Oh shit.
The boys gathered around the computer. Oh shit was right. Neal had tried using the default username and password and gotten on one computer. And the name that blinked at the top?
Los Alamos Science Lab.
But also unlike WarGames, and luckily for us, they couldn’t start any simulated wargames or find any nuclear secrets on there. All they really wanted to do was get inside. And they found something inside this unsecured computer humming inside the facility that invented the nuclear bomb, that they probably cared about a lot more.
SFX: GAME TOKEN SOUND
A game.
PAC-MAN BEEPS
So they all took turns playing a game inside a machine in Los Alamos. And as a badge of pride they made sure to beat the high score. They wanted to leave their sign behind as their gang sign, right at the top of the high scores: 414. The 414s had made it. They were a real hacking group.
As summer approached, they were flying high. Maybe their parents weren’t thrilled with the phone bills, but it seemed harmless enough. And maybe one of them could get a job in computers.
The movie WarGames was coming out, and Neal made excited plans to go see it with the rest of the guys. They watched the trailer and felt seen. That spring one of them broke into a Canadian cement company and installed a backdoor login that used some of the names from WarGames, another programmed a system to type:
Would you like to play a nice game of chess, Dr. Falken?
…any time someone tried to play a game.
They felt cool, and a little cocky. They’d been doing this for a year and hadn’t heard a peep from anyone.
So the night before WarGames came out, Tim, Gerald, Neal, John, Paul and the others went for a celebratory dialing session.
Where do you want to go tonight?
One typed, enjoying the roleplay.
How about the big apple?
Another responded.
Maybe catch a show, or two hundred and twelve…
Another laughed, then they were off. Each of them fired off 212 followed by computer numbers.
Soon, Tim found a new computer… It was a big state of the art DEC Digital VAX 11/780.
VAX… what’s the password for those ones again?
It was almost too easy. Tim didn’t even have to check his big book of computer manuals.
Try username “test,” password “test.”
SFX: UNLOCKING SOUND
Tim logged in using a test account that gave him vast access to the whole machine. He quickly went and set up an account then ran the command: “set process/priv = all”. Now they could do whatever they wanted on the machine.
The 414s spent the next few hours exploring. It didn’t seem that exciting really. It was just a hospital mainframe. There were a lot of bills—even in 1983 insurance was big business—and patient records, but nothing that fun. Not even a game to play.
Just as they were closing out, Gerald noticed something.
Uh guys, we might have a problem.
There was an automatic logging file that had tracked everything they’d done while in there.
No big deal…
Tim soothingly said. They just had to delete the file, and they’d be fine. Who would check? Anyway, it was like 3 am in New York. No one would notice some missing entries.
Gerald went to delete the file.
SFX: TRASH SOUND
Shit. They’d accidentally erased a bill too.
Eh, no one’s gonna notice it. Come on, it’s boring, let’s get out of here.
But as they closed down, Tim thought they might have made a mistake. He’d have to check in on this later.
The next morning on June 3rd, 1983, Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center’s System Manager Chen Chui would come into work and discover what the 414s had done.
While the 414s were at the movie theater enjoying WarGames, the movie version of their lives, Chen would be calling security and trying to lock down the hospital.
They didn’t know it yet, but June 3rd would be the 414’s last day of freedom…
Act 3
On Friday June 3rd, 1983 the teen hacker group the 414s broke into the computer system at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, and left a trail that the systems manager Chen Chui could find.
He locked down the system, and deleted all the new usernames. But that weekend the 414s logged back in and saw what he’d done. He hadn’t found out how they’d gotten in, so they could still use the test username and password. But it was distressing.
SFX: KEYS TYPING
One of them had built a keytracker program, so they installed it on the machine—now any time anyone entered a username and password it would be sent back to the 414s. So it didn’t matter what new passwords people chose, the 414s would always know it.
The teen boy—maybe it was Tim, Neal, John, or Gerald, we don’t know—put a little note about it on their private bulletin board system, and moved on. It’s not like there was anything interesting on the hospital’s computer, but now they had access, it was another notch in the 414s belt.
And who knows? The 414s had a bunch of computers like that, and usually one of the boys would check in on them every couple of weeks just to see if anything interesting had happened.
That Monday, June 6th, Chen figured out they had broken in through the telephone modem, and had somehow found a backdoor in. He told his bosses, and they started the process of reporting to the FBI. But for now, Chen had a big problem.
How was he going to protect the computer? The 414s had already accidentally destroyed a bill for $1,500 that the hospital couldn’t recreate. Not exactly a big deal yet, but it felt like an invasion. They had broken into HIS computer.
Chen became obsessed with watching the logs. Waiting, almost hoping he’d see something. And it didn’t happen immediately, but a few days later, he saw a suspicious login.
SFX: DIALING SOUNDS
This was his chance. He almost didn’t believe it when saw this—it was real. There was someone there.
Carefully, he started moving files around. The user seemed to notice, and went still. Almost like a big cat out prowling for prey that knows there’s something watching.
Chen made a move—and just like that the kid logged off.
Shit.
He’d lost his chance. He didn’t know who this was, but he knew it was bad. But they’d come back, which means they’d probably come back again.
So Chen wrote out a text file and left it on the terminal, the first thing someone would see if they logged in with a compromised account:
You have done some harm to the system.
SFX: TYPING
Please call us and help us repair the damage
Chen moved the file in and waited. A little later there was another login. Chen stared at the access logs, afraid to move. The user opened up his text file. Read it.
SFX: DISCONNECT SOUND
Then logged off.
Shit.
Chen called the FBI, they said they’d talk to the New York phone company and install a tracer.
Before they could though, his phone rang.
SFX: PHONE RINGING
Hello?
On the other end of the phone, a primitive text-to-speech played
(SYNTH VOICE) We’re sorry. We didn’t mean to do anything.
How did you get in?
Chen demanded, his voice raising.
SFX: CLICK
Back in Milwaukee, Neal hung up the phone, terrified. Sweat dripped down his face. He was only 17. He was a 3.7 GPA student. He’d never even gotten in trouble before.
Please don’t tell my Dad.
He thought. That night at the Boy Scouts Explorer Club, he couldn’t focus, and all the other 414s kept staring at him to try to figure out what was wrong. Finally over club sandwiches he told them what happened.
Why’d you call?
One of them asked, angry, his voice cracking. But then Gerald reached out his arms soothingly.
We’re fine. Don’t be a baby.
That night the 414s strategized. They wouldn’t do anything stupid. But they’d keep checking on that computer just in case something happened.
Meanwhile at Sloan, Chen and the FBI tried to get a handle on who this could be. And they realized pretty fast that these hackers were checking the machine, but not staying for long.
They needed to find some way they could keep the hackers coming back to the machine long enough for a telephone tracer to work. It was the FBI who came up with what turned out to be a foolproof way to do it—by giving the 414s exactly what they wanted.
SFX: STAR TREK SOUNDS
In early July, the FBI installed a Star Trek game on the VAX. The players would go from sector to sector, trying to blow up as many Klingons as possible.
SFX: PHASER BLASTS
It was a game. It was about something these kids cared about—Star Trek 2: Wrath of Khan had come out the year before and was a very big deal. And best of all, it had a leaderboard.
Gerald was the first one to see the game.
Guys, big discovery on the 212 hospital.
He typed in the BBS. He wasn’t even suspicious, a lot of computers had games installed, and they’d been careful after Neal’s encounter with them. Probably the IT guy just needed to blow off steam.
At Sloan the FBI watched in delight as the user logins started to swarm in. All the guys wanted a chance to play.
SFX: 8-BIT EXPLOSIONS
And after a few hours of playing, Tim was able to hit the top high score. Not knowing the FBI was watching over Chen’s shoulders, he triumphantly typed in the tag:
414.
SFX: GAME OVER SOUNDS
With a flourish he logged out, happy he’d conquered this machine too. The gang signs near his house were only within a few blocks. His signs made it all the way across the country.
But at the FBI headquarters, this was the break they needed.
414… what does that mean?
The phone company’s tracer helped out. The logins had been coming from Milwaukee. Area code 414.
Now remember how there weren’t that many PCs out there, and that it was easier for the 414s to find computers like Los Alamos in less populated area codes? Milwaukee wasn’t exactly New Mexico, but it also wasn’t New York. So it didn’t take long for the FBI to track down their guys.
SFX: DIALING
The first sign that Tim had that there was trouble, was one afternoon in late July when his neighbor stopped being friendly. Which in suburban Wisconsin was a big deal.
SFX: SPRINKLERS GOING OFF
He’d known his neighbor for years, the guy worked at the phone company, and would always smile. But this morning he avoided Tim and practically ran to his car.
Tim went upstairs, a little thrown off, though he wouldn’t admit it. Then when he got onto his computer, there was another strange thing. His phone wasn’t staying hooked up the way it usually did. And when he listened to the modem connecting it sounded funny.
SFX: POPPING AND CRACKLING SOUNDS
He tried to log into the BBS, and there were all these weird artifacts on the screen like there was interference. He couldn’t figure out what was going on.
It was only later when he realized that his neighbor was ignoring him because the neighbor was the guy who’d installed a wiretap on his phone.
Tim had stayed up late trying to get his system working before passing out at 5am. But around 9 am, his Mom woke him up. Scared, not sure what her nice computer-obsessed son could have done. The FBI had come to see him:
We’d like to talk to you about what you’ve been doing with your computer for the last few months
Across town, Neal woke up. He was exhausted, he’d been up until late online. But his little sister Christine was on his bed.
Hey there are some guys here to see you.
Bleary, he stumbled downstairs, still wearing shorts and a Mickey Mouse t-shirt. He wiped the crud from his eyes and did a double-take. It was two men in dark suits and ties and white shirts.
They weren’t Mormons
He remembers thinking. They laid it out—they knew everything. There was no use lying. His Dad came in and called a lawyer. The 414s were in big trouble.
Act 4
The 414 group of Milwaukee teen hackers were caught and arrested over the course of July and August 1983, while WarGames was still in movie theaters.
But now that they were caught, what would the FBI do with them? They were just kids. And they weren’t trying to do anything truly malicious. None of them had stolen government secrets, or even endangered anyone. The FBI barely understood what they even did.
When they came to Gerald’s house, they confiscated his computer. But this was 1983, and the FBI wasn’t exactly full of people who knew how to use PCs. They couldn’t turn it on.
SFX: VACANT BEEPS
One of them ran to a nearby store to buy an instruction manual, but still couldn’t figure it out. They ended up putting his computer in a closet and not touching it the rest of the investigation.
And luckily or unluckily for the 414s, the whole justice system was like that. No one knew what to do with them. Computer hacking was barely even a phrase yet. How does the government charge someone for this?
Neal was only 17, and his Dad’s lawyer negotiated immunity for him. But Tim, Gerald, and the rest were charged with the closest crime that fit the bill: making harassing phone calls.
After back and forth the defendants all took plea deals and served 2 years probation and paid $500 fines. None of them were allowed to own modems during their probation.
SFX: A GAVEL
And while the legal-aged 414s were in court proceedings, Neal took to the talk shows.
SOUND CUE: TV CAMERAS AND APPLAUSE
He became the face of hacking, appearing on the cover of Newsweek, and showing up on Crossfire, Donahue, and the Tonight Show.
Neal was young, good looking, and charming. When Donahue asked him when he knew what he was doing was wrong, he grinned and said:
When the FBI showed up on my door.
SFX: STUDIO AUDIENCE LAUGHTER
He even spoke to the US Congress, invited by representative Dan Glickman on September 26, 1983. On the stand, he pointed out that the only reason they could get into so many systems was that they were so laughably unprotected.
He made a splash, and the next year, 6 bills to regulate computer hacking were passed. All of them are still in effect today.
Over the years, Tim started working as a network engineer, Gerald still tinkers with computers, and Neal works in marketing.
They didn’t know it at the time, but they ended up changing the face of computers in the country. They exposed vulnerabilities that could have been used by rival powers or malicious agents. But they were just looking to leave their high score on the world.
SFX: HIGH SCORE SOUND.
I’m Keith Korneluk and you’re listening to Modem Mischief.
CREDITS
Thanks for listening to Modem Mischief. Don’t forget to hit the subscribe or follow button in your favorite podcast app right now so you don’t miss an episode. This show is an independent production and is wholly supported by you, our listeners and the best way to support the show is to share it. Tell your friends, your enemies, tattoo the show on your chest and go streaking. And another way to support us is on Patreon. For as little as $5 a month you’ll receive an ad-free version of the show plus monthly bonus episodes exclusive to subscribers. Modem Mischief is brought to you by Mad Dragon Productions and is created, produced and hosted by me: Keith Korneluk. This episode is written and researched by David Burgis. Edited, mixed and mastered by Greg Bernhard aka WeHo’s Most Eligible Bachelor. The theme song “You Are Digital” is composed by Computerbandit. Sources for this episode are available on our website at modemmischief.com. And don’t forget to follow us on social media at @modemmischief. Thanks for listening!