Pat Nixon – The Tragic Fate of Her 2 Daughters – HT
There are women in American history whose names are remembered mostly in relation to someone else’s story. Pat Nixon is one of them. Decades of coverage, thousands of photographs, and she is still most often described as the woman who stood beside Richard Nixon, composed, loyal, smiling through things that would have broken most people.
But the story that almost nobody tells is what happened to the two daughters she spent her life protecting. Two girls raised inside one of the most turbulent political families of the 20th century who grew up to live very different lives. One defined by deliberate silence, the other by the weight of being her father’s most visible defender during the worst crisis in presidential history.
And between the two of them, a sibling dispute over money that almost no one saw coming. Part one. Pat Nixon and the world she built for her daughters. Thelma Catherine Ryan was born on March 16th, 1912 in Ele Nevada. The daughter of a minor and a farmer’s daughter. Her father called her his St. Patrick’s Babe in the mourn and the nickname Pat stuck for the rest of her life.
She grew up in Artezia, California, where her father had moved the family to try farming. The life was hard and unadorned, the kind of childhood that leaves a person with either bitterness or resilience. And in Pat’s case, it left her with the kind of resilience that bordered on the indestructible. Or at least seemed that way until it wasn’t.
When her mother died of cancer in 1925, Pat was 13 years old. She became, without ceremony or preparation, the person responsible for keeping the household running, cooking, cleaning, managing her two older brothers. She absorbed it all without complaint, which was the mode of endurance she would carry forward into every difficult chapter that followed.
When her father died of tuberculosis in 1930, she was 18 years old and completely on her own. She worked her way through college, the University of Southern California, holding down multiple jobs simultaneously, typing, pharmacy work, X-ray technician, retail. She graduated laad in 1937 with a degree in merchandising which was itself an unusual academic direction for a woman of her era.
She took a teaching job at Whittier High School in California, joined an amateur theater group and in 1938 found herself sitting across a table from a recently graduated lawyer named Richard Nixon who announced essentially on the spot that he intended to marry her. It took him two years of persistent pursuit to make good on that announcement.
They married on June 21st. Pat Nixon did not fall into political life. She was pulled into it by a husband whose ambition was enormous and whose need for her presence on the campaign trail was genuine. She campaigned beside him when he ran for Congress in 1946, doing research on his opponent, writing and distributing campaign literature, managing the mechanics of the operation with the same practical competence she had brought to every job she’d ever held.
She was there through the Senate race, through the vice presidency under Eisenhower, through the painful 1960 presidential loss to John Kennedy, a defeat that was so close and so contested that it left wounds in the entire family that did not fully heal. and through the 1962 California governor’s race that she had actively hoped he would lose so they could finally step back from public life.
He lost that race and his famous press conference afterward in which he told reporters they wouldn’t have Richard Nixon to kick around anymore seemed to confirm what Pat had hoped that the political career was over. It wasn’t. She was there through all of it, smiling for the cameras in ways that observers noted were sometimes so relentlessly composed as to seem almost beyond human range.
The press eventually gave her the nickname plastic pat, a cruel label that reflected their failure to recognize that the composure they were mocking was the product of genuine discipline rather than emptiness. Through every campaign and every crisis, the thing she tried hardest to protect was her daughters. Trisha, born February 21st, 1946 in Whittier, California during her father’s first congressional run.
Pat’s mother-in-law, Hannah Nixon, cared for the newborn while Pat went back to the campaign trail. Julie, born July 5th, 1948 in Washington, D.C. while her father was already a congressman. Two girls born into a family that was always from the very beginning in the middle of something larger than itself. Pat’s instinct from the time the girls were small was to create around them whatever normal she could manufacture inside a life that was fundamentally abnormal.
When the family was in Washington and Richard was on the road, Pat stayed with the girls. She made their Halloween costumes by hand. She arranged trickor-treating logistics under Secret Service supervision with the same practical energy she brought to everything. She chose schools with care. She tried with genuine effort to ensure that the political machinery that ran her husband’s life did not simply flatten her daughter’s childhoods under its wheels.
She was largely successful in the years before the White House. The girls were close to each other and close to their mother. They traveled extensively with their parents. Pat took them on international trips during the Eisenhower vice presidency years, exposing them to the world in ways that left permanent marks on both of their personalities.
By the time Richard Nixon was elected president in 1968, Trisha was 22 and Julie was 20. They were adults shaped by a childhood that had given them extraordinary access to the centers of American power and also in ways that would only become visible later an extraordinary amount of pressure.
The two daughters who entered the White House in January 1969 were very different people. Different in temperament, different in how they handled the public role that the presidency thrust upon them, and different in what they were willing to say out loud. Those differences would matter enormously in the years that followed. Part two.
Trisha, the thinker in the White House. Of the two Nixon daughters, Trisha was always the one described as more reserved. Pat herself used the word introverted. The press, casting around for ways to distinguish the sisters, settled on a somewhat tidy division. Trisha was the thinker and Julie was the talker. Like most such reductions, it was imprecise, but it captured something real about the difference in how the two sisters navigated public life.
Trisha had grown up moving frequently as the family followed Richard Nixon’s career across Washington, California, and New York. She had attended multiple schools, requiring regular social readjustment, and had developed through that process a preference for her own company and a weariness about the press that never really left her.
She was not cold. People who knew her privately described genuine warmth, but she was careful in ways that her younger sister simply was not. She had attended Finch College in Manhattan, commuting from the family home rather than living on campus, and had graduated in 1968. She was a modern European history major, elected class president in her junior year, and a member of the Academic Honor Society.
By the time her father was inaugurated as president in January 1969, Trisha was 22 years old, living at home, unmarried, and already under the particular scrutiny that attaches to an attractive, available daughter of a sitting president. The press tracked her movements, speculated about her romantic prospects, and treated her unmarried status as a kind of ongoing national interest story.
There were quiet references in British papers to the fact that Prince Charles, on his first visit to the United States in 1970, had reportedly been considered a potential match. A piece of speculation that Charles himself acknowledged years later, with the observation that Trisha was actually slightly older than him.
She had in fact met her future husband several years earlier at a school dance in 1963 when she was 17 and Edward Finch Cox was 16. He was from a prominent New York family, had gone on to Princeton and then Harvard Law School and had the kind of pedigree that made the match one that Richard Nixon approved of readily. The engagement was announced in 1970 and the wedding was planned for the White House which was the first White House wedding to take place in the Rose Garden June 12th, 1971.
The wedding day was overcast and threatened rain almost until the ceremony began. The guest list ran to 400 people. Pat had been involved in the planning in the meticulous way she brought to all things. every detail considered, nothing left to chance. Trisha wore a dress she had designed herself with the help of a seamstress, a white oranza gown that the press spent considerable column inches describing.
Richard Nixon walked his daughter down the aisle in the Rose Garden as the sun finally appeared. By all accounts, he was visibly moved. The couple settled in New York City after the wedding where Edward took up the practice of corporate law and then Watergate began. Trisha’s response to the Watergate crisis was characteristically private.
She was not the daughter who went on television, gave interviews, or made the public case for her father. She commuted between New York and Washington as often as she could to be with her parents, but she was quiet about it, present in the physical sense, absent from the public record in the way she preferred to be.
The people who observed the family during those years noted that Trisha’s support was real and consistent, but that it moved through back channels rather than through press statements. When Richard Nixon stood in the East Room on the morning of August 9th, 1974, and delivered his farewell to the White House staff, a speech of raw and sometimes incoherent emotion that the cameras captured in full.
Pat stood there barely holding herself together. Trisha was there, too. She watched her father in what was by any measure the most humiliating morning of his public life, and she absorbed it in the composed and private way she had always absorbed the difficult things. After the resignation, Trisha retreated further from public life.
She gave very few interviews in the years that followed, appeared at family events and foundation activities, but kept a low profile that was consistent with her personality, and with a conscious choice to live outside the continuing scrutiny that attached to the Nixon name. She and Edward Cox had one child, Christopher Nixon Cox, born on March 14th, 1979.
She raised him in the suburbs of New York with the kind of deliberate privacy that only someone who had grown up without it truly understands the value of. Christopher Cox grew up to become a Republican political figure in New York, active in the State Party and involved with the Nixon Foundation. The press occasionally noted the presence of another generation of Nixon in American politics, but for Trisha herself, proximity to that process appeared to be enough.
Trisha’s silence was a choice that made sense given everything she had been through. Her sister Julie made the opposite choice. And what that decision cost her during the worst of the Watergate years and after was a price that most observers only began to understand much later. Part three. Julie, the defender.
Julie Nixon was born into a family that was already in the business of American politics. And she understood that business from a relatively early age in a way that distinguished her from almost every other person of her generation with a similar proximity to power. She was not merely present in political life.
She engaged with it, thought about it carefully, and by the time she was a young woman had developed opinions and the willingness to express them that put her in a category apart from her more cautious sister. She attended Smith College in Massachusetts, one of the most academically rigorous women’s colleges in the country, where she pursued a well-rounded education and developed the intellectual confidence that would serve her through the years ahead.
It was at Smith that she met David Eisenhower, the grandson of President Dwight D. Eisenhower, when both were invited to address a Republican women’s organization. The symmetry of the connection was immediately noted by every political observer in the country. A Nixon marrying an Eisenhower was the kind of thing that seemed almost too neatly arranged by history.
The families involved had a genuine connection. Richard Nixon had served under Eisenhower as vice president for eight years, and the relationship between the two families was real and warm. But by all accounts, the relationship between Julie and David was personal. before it was symbolic, rooted in a genuine compatibility of temperament and intellectual interest.
They married on December 22nd, 1968, just weeks before Richard Nixon was inaugurated as president. The marriage linked two of the most prominent political families in American history in a single household. David Eisenhower was a thoughtful and serious young man who went on to serve in the Navy and later to become an author and historian of considerable reputation.
Julie, for her part, became something that no one in the administration had quite planned for. An effective, articulate, and passionate public spokesperson for her father during the years when he needed one most. During the Nixon administration, Julie served as assistant managing editor of the Saturday Evening Post.
She was active at the White House in ways that went well beyond ceremonial. She filled in for her mother at events when Pat was unwell or unavailable. She gave tours to visiting delegations, including children with disabilities, and she took a visible interest in foreign policy issues that would have been unusual for a first daughter in an earlier era.
Good Housekeeping magazine named her one of the 10 most admired women in America for four consecutive years during the 1970s. And then Watergate arrived and Julie became the person who stood in front of it with her face exposed. The break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate complex on June 17th, 1972 was something Pat Nixon described later as barely registering at first.
the kind of story that sounded minor and distant before it became the thing that consumed everything. Julie’s experience of its arrival was different. She was paying attention to her father’s administration in ways that made her alert to what the story might become. And by the time it became clear that it was catastrophic, she had already made a decision.
A commitment really, to be the most visible and vocal member of the family in her father’s defense. She gave interviews when Trisha wouldn’t. She appeared on television. She traveled and spoke and pushed back against the narrative that was forming around her father’s presidency with a directness and a force that surprised political observers who had not expected a 25-year-old woman to be this effective or this relentless.
She told reporters that Watergate was a political attack on her father. She told them she was proud of him. She maintained positions in public that were increasingly difficult to defend as the evidence mounted, and she maintained them because she believed in them. Or at least that is how it appeared to everyone watching.
The toll was significant. Julie’s graduation ceremony at Smith College was cancelled because of threatened anti-war protests, a casualty of the broader political climate that had made the Nixon name a lightning rod. She worked through an atmosphere of constant scrutiny and criticism directed not just at her father but by association at anyone who publicly defended him.
She later wrote that her father during that period would turn to his family in any crisis and that Watergate was simply the largest instance of a pattern that had always existed. When it became clear that her father’s resignation was inevitable, that the tape recordings had captured evidence that made his position untenable.
Julie reportedly urged him to fight rather than resign. She wanted him to face impeachment rather than surrender the office. Richard Nixon made a different choice. On August 9th, 1974, he resigned. Julie was with her mother when they watched him leave. She was with her mother in the years that followed when Pat Nixon’s withdrawal from public life became complete and her health began to deteriorate.
The resignation was the end of the presidency, but it was not the end of what the Nixon daughters carried. The years that came after, their mother’s strokes, their father’s slow rehabilitation in the public eye, and eventually a dispute between the two sisters that broke into public view, told their own story about what a life at the center of American political catastrophe actually costs.
Part four, the aftermath. Pat’s decline and what it cost. The Nixons left the White House on August 9th, 1974 and flew to California. They settled at Lacasa Pacifica, the estate at San Clemente on the Pacific coast, and Pat Nixon disappeared from public life with a completeness that struck even people who had expected her to retreat. She gave no interviews.
She refused to serve on charity boards. She did not see her friends. She stopped appearing in public almost entirely. She withdrew to a degree that went well beyond the ordinary private life of a former first lady. And it was a withdrawal that the people around her recognized as something more than preference.
It was the withdrawal of someone who had been genuinely broken by something and was not going to pretend otherwise, even if pretending had always been her greatest skill. The years of smiling for cameras that recorded her anguish, the 1960 election night, the resignation morning in the East Room, the helicopter lifting from the south lawn, had accumulated into something that could no longer be absorbed through discipline alone.
The woman who had said she never canled out, who did or died, but kept going regardless, had finally reached the end of what keeping going required of her. in San Clemente. She didn’t have to keep going for anyone. She had told Julie at some point during or after the resignation that Watergate was the only crisis that had ever truly broken her.
Not the Venezuela trip in 1958 when the motorcade had been attacked by protesters throwing rocks and spitting at their car while Pat sat inside trying to stay calm. Not the crushing 1960 loss to Kennedy which she had absorbed with visibly great difficulty. Not any of the earlier humiliations, the checker’s speech controversy, the endless years of campaigning for a husband whose career demanded everything.
Watergate was different. She had told her daughter that she knew she would never live to see the vindication. She was right about that. On July 7th, 1976, two years after the resignation, Pat Nixon suffered a stroke at Lacassa Pacifica. It was serious. It resulted in paralysis of her entire left side and a temporary loss of speech.
The recovery that followed was long and grueling. She later described it as the hardest physical thing she had ever done, and she recovered sufficiently to regain full movement. But the recovery was not complete in the deeper sense. She was slowed. She was more fragile. And Richard Nixon later made a connection that was impossible to verify but impossible to entirely dismiss.
that the stroke had come three days after Pat had read the final days, Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein’s account of the last weeks of the Nixon presidency, a book whose portrait of Richard Nixon and of the family during those final days was devastating. Both daughters were deeply affected by their mother’s stroke.
Trisha, already committed to a private life in New York, increased her visits to her parents. Julie, who had been living with David in the Philadelphia area while he served in the Navy and later pursued his graduate work, remained as present as she could manage. The experience of watching Pat work her way back from the stroke, with the same unflinching determination she had brought to every difficult thing before it was, by their later accounts, one of the formative experiences of their adult lives.
The Nixons moved to New York City in 1979 to a townhouse on East 65th Street in Manhattan, partly to be closer to Trisha and Christopher. They moved again in 1981 to a house in Saddle River, New Jersey, which offered more space and brought them within easy reach of both daughters and their growing families. Julie had three children, Jenny, Alexander, and Melanie, and Trisha had Christopher.
The grandchildren brought Richard and Pat genuine joy in a period that had precious little of it. Pat suffered a second stroke in 1983, milder, but a further step in the deterioration of her health that the years since 1974 had accelerated. She underwent surgery in 1987 to remove a small cancerous tumor from her mouth. She suffered repeated hospitalizations through the late 1980s and early 1990s for respiratory problems.
In December 1992, while she was in the hospital for emphyma, doctors found that she also had lung cancer. She had been a private smoker for most of her adult life, something that was not publicly known while she was first lady when her image was one of composed and controlled propriety. The cancer once found moved quickly.
Pat Nixon died on June 22nd, 1993 at the age of 81. Richard Nixon, Trisha, and Julie were all with her. The previous day, their 53rd wedding anniversary, she had been awake enough to look at the anniversary cards and flowers that had arrived for the occasion. The family sat with her. She lapsed into a coma that evening quietly in the way that people who have spent their lives absorbing difficulty quietly tend to go.
She died in the early morning hours. Her epitap reads, “Even when people cannot speak your language, they can tell if you have love in your heart.” Richard Nixon died 10 months later on April 22nd, 1994 of a stroke. He never witnessed the rehabilitation of his historical reputation that he had spent his final two decades pursuing.
But it came in the years after his death, the kind of measured, gradual reassessment that his family had always believed was owed to him. The two women who had been at the center of so much of American political history for so many years, were now, for the first time in their lives, navigating it without either parent.
What happened next between the sisters was something almost nobody had anticipated, and it said something uncomfortable about the pressures that had been building between them for years. Part five, the sisters, the money, and what it cost. In the years following their parents’ deaths, Trisha Nixon Cox and Julie Nixon Eisenhower remained active in preserving and promoting the Nixon legacy through the Richard Nixon Foundation.
Both served on the foundation’s board. both worked to maintain the presidential library in Yor Linda, California. A library that for years operated outside the official national archives system of presidential libraries in ways that had real consequences for research access and for how historians engaged with the Nixon record.
Julie felt strongly that the Nixon Library should be brought into the National Archives system, which would give it the same standing as every other presidential library, and she believed would lead scholars to treat her father’s record more fairly. Trisha had different views about how the library and its resources should be managed.
The dispute between them about governance and direction was not something that became public immediately, but it was real and it was persistent. It came into the open in a legal dispute over the estate of Charles Bebe Rabo, Richard Nixon’s closest personal friend and one of the most significant figures in the Nixon inner circle.
Raboso was a Florida banker who had been Nixon’s companion and confidant for decades. The man Nixon went fishing with, the man he called when he wanted someone who would simply be present without demanding anything. Rio died in 1998, and he left funds estimated at as much as $19 million to the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace Foundation.
The question of who should control those funds and by extension how the foundation itself should be governed became the fault line along which the sister’s disagreement broke into public view. Trisha wanted the funds to be overseen by a group affiliated with the Nixon family. Julie wanted the library’s independent board of directors to control them.
The dispute became a legal matter. It was a fight about money in the immediate sense, but it was also a fight about something deeper, about which version of the Nixon legacy would be preserved and who would have the authority to shape it. For two women who had spent their adult lives as the primary custodians of their parents’ memory, the question of who held that authority was not abstract.
It was the thing they had each in their different ways given the most significant years of their lives to. Julie spoke about it publicly in terms that conveyed genuine pain. She described it as heartbreaking and said that she loved her sister very much. The acknowledgement that the dispute was causing real strain between them, offered in those careful, measured terms that both Nixon daughters had inherited from their mother, made plain that this was not a routine legal disagreement, but something that cut into the personal
relationship between them. The lawsuit was eventually settled to the satisfaction of both sides. The specific terms were not made fully public, which was consistent with the privacy both women had always preferred. But the episode left a mark that the careful, composed public image of the Nixon family had not previously shown, a reminder that the pressures of a shared political inheritance accumulated over decades do not simply dissipate when the parents are gone.
Julie’s campaign to bring the Nixon Library into the National Archives System ultimately succeeded. In 2007, the Nixon Library formally joined the National Archives administered system, becoming the last of the presidential libraries from the modern era to do so. It was a significant institutional achievement that reflected Julie’s sustained advocacy over many years.
The decision meant that historians would have access to the Nixon records under the same framework as every other presidency, which Julie had always believed was the right outcome for her father’s historical standing. Part six, the women they became. Trisha Nixon Cox has lived in the decades since leaving the White House behind exactly the life she always seemed to want.
private, purposeful, and substantially removed from the political world that defined her childhood. She lives in the suburbs of New York, has remained married to Edward Cox for more than 50 years, and raised Christopher to be his own person rather than primarily a Nixon. Edward Cox became a corporate attorney and eventually chairman of the New York Republican State Committee, a significant political role, but one that kept the Cox household’s political activities centered on Edward rather than on Trisha.
Christopher Nixon Cox has been active in New York Republican politics and involved with the Nixon Foundation, carrying the family’s involvement in public affairs into a third generation in ways that appear to give Trisha quiet satisfaction without requiring her to be visible herself. He is married and has children of his own, giving Trisha grandchildren who represent a further remove from the political crucible she grew up inside.
She gives very few interviews. She appeared in public for the opening of the Richard Nixon Library in Yor Linda in July 1990 when Pat was still alive and present looking frail but determined to be there. She appears at foundation events when the occasion warrants. She is, in the most literal sense, a private citizen, one who happens to be the daughter of the 37th president of the United States, the wife of a prominent New York attorney and Republican party figure, and the mother of a rising political figure, but who
has managed to make all of that feel from the outside like the background to a life rather than its primary content. That is not an accident. It is a choice she made deliberately and has maintained consistently for half a century. Julie Nixon Eisenhower built something considerably more public.
She wrote Pat Nixon, the untold story, published in 1986, which became a New York Times bestseller and remains the most comprehensive and intimate account of her mother’s life available to readers. It is a book written with obvious love and with a daughter’s particular access to her subject. It draws on private conversations, family documents, and firsthand memory that no outside biographer could have reached.
And it presents Pat Nixon as the full complex and genuinely remarkable person she was rather than the plastic smiling political appendage that the press had so often described. The book was an act of restoration and it succeeded completely on those terms. It changed the way Pat Nixon is remembered. Julie also wrote Going Home to Glory with her husband David, a memoir of his life with his grandfather Dwight Eisenhower, drawing on a family connection that gives the Eisenhowers a unique view of one of the most consequential
presidencies of the 20th century. She has been active for over 20 years on the board of jobs for America’s graduates, a national organization focused on helping young people complete high school and find employment. Work that reflects the same commitment to practical service that her mother modeled throughout her public life.
She was named a distinguished daughter of Pennsylvania for her civic contributions. She chaired the President’s Commission on White House Fellowships from 2002 to 2006, a role that placed her at the center of a significant leadership development program and that she undertook with the seriousness it required.
She has remained more visible, more publicly engaged, and in some ways more willing to be known than her sister, which is consistent with the difference between them that has existed since childhood. She is still described in the profiles that occasionally appear about her as one of the most effective and committed defenders her father ever had.
She appears to have made peace with what that defense cost her during Watergate and with what her father’s legacy means. Complicated as it remains for many Americans to the country and to her own life, the two sisters are by all available accounts still close. The Raboso dispute was resolved. They serve together on the Nixon Foundation board.
Their children, Christopher, Jenny, Alexander, and Melanie, are part of the same extended family that Pat Nixon spent her entire life trying to hold together and protect. Pat Nixon died in 1993 without knowing, as she had told Julie she never would, whether her husband’s vindication would come. The women she raised are still here doing the work of carrying what she left them.
The composed resilience, the private endurance, and the particular kind of loyalty that grows in families that have been through things most families never face. The word tragic is in the title of this video, and it deserves examination. The lives of Trisha Nixon Cox and Julie Nixon Eisenhower do not look tragic in the conventional sense.
Neither ended in disaster. Neither was defined primarily by suffering. And both women built lives of real substance and meaning. But there is a tragedy of a quieter kind running through both stories, and it has to do with what was taken from them before they were old enough to consent to the taking. They were born into a world that immediately made them public property.
From the moment their father entered politics in 1946, when Trisha was an infant, their family’s private life was subject to scrutiny they had no capacity to evaluate or resist. They grew up understanding that their behavior reflected on their father’s career, that their appearance was monitored, that their social lives were reported on, and that the normal adolescent process of making mistakes and learning from them in private was simply not available to them.
Pat worked hard to create a buffer between the girls and the political machinery, and she succeeded more than anyone had a right to expect. But she could not eliminate the fundamental reality of what it meant to be a Nixon. The Watergate years were the sharpest point of what that reality meant. Julie, who had chosen visibility and paid for it in public criticism and social pressure, carried the weight of being her father’s spokesperson during a period when defending him required her to maintain positions that the evidence was steadily undermining.
Whatever she privately understood about the situation, she maintained her public stance with a consistency that impressed even people who thought she was wrong to do it. The cost of that consistency, to her sense of herself, to her relationships, to the years she spent in an adversarial relationship with a significant portion of the American public, is not something she has ever spoken about in full.
Trisha, who chose silence and paid for it in a different way, in the invisibility that becomes its own kind of erasia, carried the weight of knowing everything that was happening and choosing not to engage with it in public. That silence was protective, but protection has its own costs. You can protect yourself from the scrutiny without fully escaping the experience.
And the experience of watching her father’s presidency collapse and her mother break under the weight of it was something Trisha absorbed in private rooms that the cameras never entered. Whatever else can be said about the fate of Pat Nixon’s daughters, this much is true. They survived. They built real lives. They did it in the long shadow of one of the most contested legacies in American political history, with the cameras they had grown up in front of still occasionally turning toward them.
And they did it with something very close to the grace their mother had modeled for them across 53 years of marriage to one of the most turbulent men of the 20th century. If you enjoyed this video, please like and subscribe to our channel so you never miss out on more fascinating stories.