William Rataczak, Co-Pilot of Flight Hijacked by D.B. Cooper, Dies at 86News by The Vagabond News · November 13, 2025
Aviation veteran whose career intersected with one of America’s greatest mysteries
William “Bill” Rataczak, the first officer aboard D.B. Cooper hijacking’s notorious November 24, 1971 flight, has died at the age of 86. The aviation professional passed away on October 22 at an assisted-living facility in North Oaks, Minnesota, his son Michael Rataczak confirmed. The cause of death was pneumonia. (The Sun)
Born on June 30, 1939 in Minneapolis, Rataczak fostered an early passion for flight—so much that he obtained his pilot’s licence even before he was legally old enough to drive. After serving in the U.S. Air Force and studying at the University of Minnesota, he joined Northwest Orient Airlines (later Northwest Airlines) in 1966, embarking on a long commercial-flying career. He retired in 1999. (The Sun)
The hijacking that became legend
On the evening of Thanksgiving Eve 1971, Northwest Flight 305—scheduled from Portland, Oregon to Seattle, Washington—was hijacked by a man who used the alias “Dan Cooper” and became immortalised as D.B. Cooper. (Wikipedia)
The mysterious hijacker boarded the Boeing 727, demanded $200,000 ransom and four parachutes, released most of the passengers in Seattle, then ordered the aircraft to take off again with the rear airstair deployed. Somewhere between Seattle and Reno, Nevada, Cooper parachuted into the night with the ransom—and vanished forever. There has never been a confirmed capture. (Wikipedia)
As first officer on that flight, Rataczak found himself in the cockpit of an unwitting participant in what is still often termed “the perfect crime”. In interviews years later he described the surreal nature of the ordeal: “It was a typical West Coast day… then suddenly we were being hijacked.” (The Sun)
A life beyond the hijack
While the hijacking event overshadowed much of public interest, Rataczak maintained a long and steady career. He remained at Northwest for over three decades, earning the respect of colleagues and flying thousands of hours without incident.
In his retirement years he became something of a reluctant figure of public fascination—frequently asked about Cooper, his recollections and his beliefs about whether Cooper survived. He told journalists his “mind tells me he’s dead. And my heart tells me I hope he is, because he caused a great number of people a great deal of grief.” (The Sun)
Rataczak is survived by his children Michael, James and Sarah; his siblings Katherine Bensen, David and Scott Rataczak; eight grandchildren; and one great-grandchild. His wife Judith predeceased him in 2022. (The Sun)
Why his passing matters
Rataczak’s death closes a personal chapter on a case that defined aviation history. The D.B. Cooper hijacking prompted sweeping changes to airline security—among them the addition of “Cooper vanes” to prevent rear staircases from being lowered mid-flight and the rapid expansion of airport screening protocols. (Wikipedia)
As first officer on that flight, Rataczak’s vantage point offers a unique human dimension to a mystery often told only in technical details and sensational headlines. His memories help keep alive the lived experience of that extraordinary night.
The unsolved mystery endures
Although the Federal Bureau of Investigation officially closed its active investigation into the Cooper case in 2016, the hijacking still draws public fascination and periodic new leads. (Wikipedia)
Rataczak’s comments over the years—combining hope that Cooper did not survive with realism about the odds—echo the broader ambivalence around the case. Will the mystery ever be solved? To many, his death underscores that fewer of the firsthand witnesses remain to tell their story.
Editor’s verdict
William Rataczak lived an exemplary aviation career yet his name will forever be linked to one of the most enduring unsolved crimes in U.S. history. With his passing, a key living link to that dramatic night fades—but his testimony remains. The story of Flight 305, the parachute drop, and the vanished hijacker will continue to captivate audiences, but Rataczak’s vantage reminds us: behind the legend was a crew just trying to land their plane.
Even as the world speculates about D.B. Cooper’s fate, this obituary serves as a reminder that real people lived through that moment. Rataczak may have stepped out of the cockpit decades ago—but his flight remains part of the narrative of American aviation, crime and intrigue.
