May 1, 1981, an ad was placed in the Arizona Daily Wildcat newspaper, a paper produced by students at the University of Arizona. This ad was cryptic, a cipher of sorts, but so simple and plain, that no one really paid it any attention. Ads continued to be published in the Daily Wildcat, every year on May 1 (or nearest weekday as the paper did not run on weekends), and a few random times throughout the year.
It wasn’t until 1994, when a man by the name of Bryan Hance left Columbus, Ohio to study journalism at the University of Arizona. May 1, 1995, he came across the first May Day ad. It intrigued him, a puzzle of sort to be solved, but he didn’t pay it much mind, thinking it was put there by some obscure campus organization or fraternity.
May 1, 1996, he saw his second May Day ad, and again, he felt as though something were strange about it, but he chose to put it out of his mind. When 1997 came around, he saw his third May Day ad. He was now the webmaster at the Arizona Daily Wildcat, and had new resources at his disposal. He decided now was the time to investigate.
He dug through back issues of the paper, hunted down sources, chasing every lead, and what he found was that he had a true mystery on his hands. The May Day Conspiracy, and he had finally entered the game.
The game dates back to the 1970’s, although no ads from that time are available for review, as the newspapers archives only go back to 1981. The puzzles, various cryptic messages, ciphers, were hard to understand, and to date, have yet to be cracked. They contain historical references, symbology, languages (at least 14 different languages to date) ,and even mathematical calculations. The combinations of such make no sense.
At first, the ads appear to be a challenge of wits, but as you delve deeper, and see the recurring theme of these ads is social, political, religious, and economic unrest and revolution, it suggests something bigger. They also seem to be some sort of communication device, foretelling upcoming events of social consequence, or even solicitations and meeting times for new and existing members.
In 1997, Hance started a website, www.maydaymystery.org. On this site, he has documented all of his findings thus far, including scans of every ad he could find, in an attempt to obtain assistance in solving this mystery.
He was able to trace the ads back to a Mr. Robert Truman Hungerford, a lawyer to claims to be legal counsel for the organization. He has refused to discuss the origin of the ads, claiming only that “It is in all likelihood that I am a disturbed, mentally ill person, and these writings are no doubt the ravings of a madman.” However, these “ravings” have cost more than a pretty penny. Full page ads, consistently placed in the most expensive advertising areas of the paper, often run upwards of $1,100.
Hungerford has been placing the ads for at least the past decade, prior to that, it is unknown who handled this task. His downtown office is filled with a variety of books, including cryptography, history, languages, physics and medicine. He also has a wide collection of language-to-language dictionaries, almanacs, encyclopedias, and other reference books, yet Hungerford denies having ever read the books, claiming “I pick out books because of their color, nothing more.”
When confronted with the possibility that he is the sole originator of the ads, Hungerford said, “It is entirely possible that all of this is the work of one person, disturbed or otherwise, it could be for amusement, could be mental illness, could be anything. But on the other hand… that wouldn’t be a bad cover, if one needed a cover.”
Bryan Hance is convinced that Hungerford is merely a member of the organization, and not the mastermind.
In January 1999, Hance’s website attracted the interest of the creator of the ads, and they made contact. They call themselves “The Orphanage” and have made a few things very clear.
- They say it is not a game
- They say it has some sort of ’cause’
- They say it is not necessarily Tucson-centric
To date, Hance has received more than 100 emails, courier messages and packages from around the country. He has also received phone messages from The Orphanage. Each provides insight to the clues, but the identity of the person, or persons still remains shrouded in mystery. “Sometimes I wish they never contacted me at all,” Hance says. “My involvement in the mystery went from simple to far too complex with one email, and I wonder what they’d do to me if I just stopped [the site] altogether.”
