A few months went by with no response. During this time I researched as much as I could about lost episodes. I found out about another alleged “lost episode” of “The Flintstones”. The story behind this episode was much like other “lost episode” stories: a special episode of the show aired on an otherwise unused television channel and had gory and surreal content. The main difference between this story and the others was that this one had a somewhat credible outside source. The original forum post had a link to a digitally archived local news article from 1979. The FCC had received complaints from dozens of people claiming to have seen the episode. The complaints came from the Lake Kabetogama region of Minnesota, with most originating from a couple of specific lake resorts. The incident was locally known as the Kabetogama Broadcast.
I decided the next logical step was to contact the FCC for more details. They responded within a week saying that unfortunately they were not at liberty to give out such information. At that moment, I considered filing a Freedom of Information Act request, but decided to take a different route. One of the two lake resorts most heavily involved with the incident was still in operation. I scheduled a vacation from work, and a few weeks later I was on my way to Lake Kabetogama.
Kleck’s Cove was a collection of 15 cabins, a bar-restaurant, and a small boat dock with boats available for lease. I had rented an old A-frame unit and planned to stay for two weeks.
The resort was a nice place to stay. I spent a few days fishing and seeing local attractions. I fell in with a group of regulars who fished at the resort every year. We went on several boat trips before I had enough courage to ask the oldest of them about the Kabetogama Broadcast.
“Oh that, funny thing, I actually just missed out on that whole thing. It happened a week before I stayed here in summer of ‘79. I heard a lot about it though. You’ll want to talk to Ed about it, he was there.”
He was referring to Ed Kleck, the founder and proprietor of Kleck’s Cove. I had considered asking him about the Kabetogama Broadcast before, but wanted to feel out the locals first. However, at this point I decided I was being overly cautious and chose to follow the man’s advice.
Mr. Kleck was in his late seventies, but his memory was still sharp. He liked to tell stories and I took advantage of this by starting a conversation with him about the history of the resort and the lake. This got him going for a couple hours before I brought up the Kabetogama Broadcast.
“Now why do you wanna know about that?” he asked, seeming taken aback. I told him I had read about it on the internet and what the story said. He shrugged and said “oh well, that’s pretty much what happened. Nothing much else to tell really.”
I asked if he had seen the episode, to which he responded that he had caught the end of the broadcast after being told about it as it was happening. He said he saw Barney die a horrible and bloody death in some faux-stone age contraption but didn’t remember much else. He was reluctant to continue the conversation much further, but assured me that the incident was very real indeed.
I pondered all I had learned on my drive home. I had been left with more questions than answers, and didn’t seem to be getting any closer to tracking down the Aristocats lost recording. The more I learned, the more new questions came up. Was the disturbing Aristocats version I had seen connected to the Kabetogama Broadcast or the alleged Batman and Robin lost episode, or was I making connections where there were none? Did that person on YouTube who claimed to have seen the Batman lost episode really see it, or had he just been trolling me? Surely all these claims couldn’t be coincidental, but there was no explanation for the existence of these lost episodes.
While I was churning all this information over in my mind, I didn’t notice the vehicle behind me until it was right up on my bumper. I swerved as it made contact, and careened into a ditch. The other car drove on without stopping. I wasn’t injured, in fact my airbag hadn’t even deployed, but I sat in shock for many, many minutes afterward.
When I finally got my bearings, I called 911 and told them my location based on the nearest mile marker. It took about 45 minutes for a state officer to find me. I told the police what had happened, but wasn’t able to provide details such as the make and color of the car that had hit me or the license plate. I did not tell them what business I was on or my lingering suspicion that the incident had to do with my investigation of the Kabetogama Broadcast.