A Fatal Wait on the Gunflint Trail: A Tale of Obsession and Tragedy in 1982

Picture a lonely, snow-dusted trail winding through dense pine forests and frozen lakes in the heart of northern Minnesota. The Gunflint Trail, a rugged stretch of wilderness, feels like it was made for those chasing otherworldly answers. In the fall of 1982, two lost souls, Gerald Flach and LaVerne Landis, parked their 1979 Chevrolet Monza at a remote boat landing by Loon Lake and waited—eyes fixed on the sky—for a flying saucer carrying “spirits” from beyond. For nearly four weeks, they held their vigil, undeterred by the creeping cold. But as winter tightened its grip, their dream turned deadly. This is their story: a gripping saga of blind faith, obsession, and a merciless winter that claimed a life.

Two Seekers of the Unknown

LaVerne Landis, 48, was a registered nurse from St. Paul, Minnesota. A mother of five grown children, she carried the weight of a grief that had shattered her world: the death of her husband in 1975. That loss sent her spiraling into a quest for meaning, drawing her to the realm of the paranormal. In 1978, she found solace in Search and Prove, a quirky group based in Afton, Minnesota, led by a mysterious figure named Jerry Gross, who called himself “Mora” and claimed to channel spiritual entities. LaVerne, her heart still raw, dove headfirst into this world of visions and cosmic promises, believing the universe held answers to her pain.Gerald Flach, 38, an electrician from West St. Paul, was her unlikely partner in this journey. Described by friends as a quiet guy who’d recently become consumed by UFOs, Gerald met LaVerne through Search and Prove. The two bonded over their shared belief in something greater. Gerald claimed to receive “messages” through LaVerne, who acted as a medium for a “higher power.” These cryptic messages fueled their mission, pulling them toward a destiny that would lead them to the edge of reality—and survival.The Call of the Gunflint TrailIt was mid-October 1982 when Gerald and LaVerne loaded up their Chevy Monza with a few supplies and left the Twin Cities behind, heading north to the Gunflint Trail—a 57-mile ribbon of road that cuts through the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, near the Canadian border. Their destination? A desolate boat landing on Loon Lake, a place where the silence is broken only by the haunting call of loons and the rustle of wind through the pines.

According to LaVerne’s messages, this was where they’d meet “spirits” aboard a flying saucer. It wasn’t just a sighting they were after—it was a cosmic rendezvous.They parked their compact car in a clearing by the lake, just a few hundred feet from a dirt road but miles from civilization. The Monza, with its snug bucket seats, became their shelter, their sanctuary, their fragile barrier between the real world and the unknown. They brought only the essentials: a couple of blankets, some canned food, a flashlight, and—rumor has it—a notebook where LaVerne scribbled her otherworldly messages. Their faith was their true fuel, stronger than the diesel that soon ran dry, leaving their car a cold, lifeless shell as temperatures plummeted.Six Weeks in the Freezing WildernessFor nearly six weeks, Gerald and LaVerne stayed put, huddled in the Monza’s cramped seats, their breath fogging up the windows. The days grew shorter, the sky turned leaden, and snow began to blanket the ground. The Gunflint Trail, already remote in summer, becomes a ghost town in fall, with temperatures dipping below freezing by October. Yet they didn’t budge. Every creak in the forest, every flicker of light in the sky, must have felt like a sign. Gerald leaned on LaVerne’s “messages,” visions of an imminent contact that would lift them from their earthly struggles.But nature doesn’t care about visions or faith. The car’s fuel ran out early, killing the heater. Their food dwindled. Water became scarce, and the cold seeped into their bones. LaVerne, older and frailer, began to fade. Gerald, perhaps driven by stubbornness or loyalty, stayed by her side, even as their situation grew dire. Days blurred into weeks, and Loon Lake, named for the mournful cry of its namesake bird, stood as a silent witness to their ordeal.A Grim DiscoveryOn November 15, 1982, a passing motorist—likely a hunter or a local heading to Grand Marais—spotted a figure collapsed along the Gunflint Trail. It was Gerald Flach, 38, barely conscious, starved, dehydrated, and numb from the cold. Nearby, in the snow-covered Monza, rescuers found LaVerne Landis, 48, slumped in the passenger seat. The Cook County coroner confirmed her cause of death: hypothermia, compounded by dehydration and malnutrition. LaVerne was gone. Gerald, rushed to a hospital, survived by a thread, forever marked by the ordeal.Deputy Sheriff Frank Redfield, tasked with the investigation, found no signs of foul play or third-party involvement. The car was simply out of gas, stranded in a place where days could pass without a soul in sight. When questioned, Gerald spoke of the “messages” relayed through LaVerne, of their wait for a flying saucer that never came. But why didn’t they seek help? Why didn’t they turn back when the cold became unbearable? Those answers, it seems, died with LaVerne.A World of Obsession and BeliefThe story of Gerald and LaVerne fits into the broader tapestry of the 1970s and ’80s UFO craze, a time when America was gripped by fascination with extraterrestrials and the paranormal. Search and Prove, led by Jerry Gross, was one of many groups blending spiritualism, psychic channeling, and UFO lore. For LaVerne, still grieving her husband, the group offered a sense of purpose. For Gerald, it fed an obsession that consumed his final months with LaVerne.A lesser-known detail, mentioned in a niche UFO blog, suggests LaVerne may have kept a diary of her “messages,” which Gerald claimed was lost in the snow. Some local reports hint they brought a transistor radio, hoping to pick up alien signals, but its battery died quickly. An article from the Duluth News Tribune notes that LaVerne called one of her children before leaving, saying she was “going to meet the future.” These fragments paint a picture of two people caught in a dream that became a nightmare.

The Gunflint Trail: Beauty and Peril

The Gunflint Trail isn’t just the setting—it’s a character in this tragedy. Stretching from Grand Marais to the Canadian border, it’s one of Minnesota’s wildest routes, flanked by dense forests and shimmering lakes. In winter, it’s a frozen gauntlet, with snowdrifts and temperatures plunging to -20°F or lower. Loon Lake, serene and isolated, was the perfect spot for a cosmic vigil—but also a deadly trap. Its remoteness, so appealing to Gerald and LaVerne, sealed their fate.A Cautionary TaleThis story has been called a “killer UFO” case—not because of aliens, but because of an obsession that led to ruin. No UFO sightings were reported on the Gunflint Trail that year, nor were there accounts from locals or rangers. The tragedy made headlines, covered by local and national outlets, and even loosely inspired a 2005 indie film, Two Harbors. Its real legacy, though, is a warning: unchecked belief, paired with isolation and desperation, can turn deadly.Gerald Flach, the survivor, faded from public view. Whether he returned to his electrician job or kept chasing UFOs is unknown. LaVerne Landis, forever tied to the Gunflint Trail, became a victim not of extraterrestrials, but of a dream that froze in the Minnesota wilderness.SourcesDuluth News Tribune, November 18, 1982 (original article) and October 1, 2025 (retrospective). “In 1982, a monthlong wait for a UFO on the Gunflint Trail proved deadly.”

Sources:

The New York Times, November 20, 1982. “Around the Nation: Vigil for Flying Saucer Brings Death to Woman.” Link

UPI Archives, November 19, 1982. “Woman freezes to death in UFO vigil.” Link

I Blog; Therefore, I Am (Ken Korczak), March 13, 2006 (updated 2008). “Killer UFOs.” Link

Duluth News Tribune (X post), October 1, 2025. Link

Echo Press (X post), October 1, 2025. Link

The Globe of Worthington (X post), October 1, 2025. Link

Newspapers.com, archive referenced in Duluth News Tribune, December 12, 1982. “Motives for couple’s UFO vigil on Gunflint Trail remain a mystery.” (Not directly accessible without subscription).