Fact Finder - Sports
Olympic Flag's 72-Year Delay
You'd be surprised to learn that the world's most recognized sports symbol spent 77 years folded inside an old suitcase before anyone knew it was missing. At the 1920 Antwerp Olympics, platform diver Hal Haig Prieste climbed a 15-foot flagpole on a dare from Duke Kahanamoku and casually walked away with Pierre de Coubertin's iconic five-ring flag. Nobody noticed it was gone. The full story behind this legendary Olympic prank gets even more fascinating from here.
Key Takeaways
- Platform diver Hal Haig Prieste stole the first Olympic flag in 1920 on a dare from swimmer Duke Kahanamoku.
- Prieste climbed a 15-foot flagpole, removed the Irish linen flag, and casually walked away unnoticed.
- The stolen flag remained hidden inside Prieste's suitcase for nearly 80 years before its return.
- The suitcase's airtight environment preserved 95% of the flag's original stitching and colors remarkably well.
- Prieste finally returned the flag in 1997, receiving a commemorative Olympic medal for its restoration.
The 1920 Antwerp Olympics Where the Theft Happened
The 1920 Antwerp Olympics weren't just another international sporting event — they were a symbol of hope and resilience, held in Belgium to honor the devastating losses of World War I. You can imagine how powerful that post-war setting felt, with nations gathering to compete peacefully after years of devastating conflict.
King Albert I officially declared the games open while trumpets sounded and doves soared into the sky. It was also here that you'd witness history — Pierre de Coubertin's five-ring flag made its debut, representing North America, South America, Europe, Africa, and Asia united as one. Despite lingering nationalist sentiments across Europe, that interlocked symbol reminded the world that athletic competition could bridge the deepest divides left behind by war.
Platform diver and stuntman Hal Haig Prieste, dared by his teammate Duke Kahanamoku, would sneak into the stadium at night, climb the 15-foot flagpole, and steal that very flag, hiding it in his suitcase for nearly 80 years.
Who Was Hal Haig Prieste?
Behind the stolen flag was one of the most extraordinary figures in Olympic history: Hal Haig Prieste, born Haig Prieste in 1896 in Fresno, California, to Armenian immigrant parents who'd carried the surname Keshishian from their homeland. His Armenian heritage ran deep — the name "Haig" references the legendary progenitor of the Armenian people.
Prieste's life defied ordinary boundaries. He'd discovered diving during naval service in World War I, eventually earning a bronze medal at the 1920 Antwerp Olympics — becoming the first Armenian-born athlete to win an Olympic medal.
Beyond athletics, his centenarian accomplishments astonished everyone: he ran in the 1996 Atlanta torch relay at 100, still performed push-ups and ice skating in his 100s, and died in 2001 at age 104 as the world's oldest living Olympian. His lifespan was so vast that it spanned three centuries, stretching from 1896 through to his death in 2001. After returning the flag, IOC vice president Anita DeFrantz praised Prieste as a "living legend" whose extraordinary life and selfless act had left an indelible mark on Olympic history.
How Hal Haig Prieste Stole the Olympic Flag
Prieste's remarkable life story sets the stage for perhaps its most peculiar chapter — the night he casually scaled a flagpole and unknowingly set off a 77-year mystery. Near the 1920 Antwerp Olympics' conclusion, Prieste climbed a 15-foot flagpole on a whim. The prank's motivation wasn't political or ideological — it was pure mischief. He grabbed the Irish linen flag bearing the first-ever five interlocking Olympic rings design, tearing it slightly along the edge during removal.
This flagpole climbing legend tucked his trophy into a suitcase without realizing what he'd taken. You might expect a dramatic escape, but there wasn't one. Nobody noticed. Nobody chased him. He simply walked away with one of Olympic history's most significant artifacts, treating it as nothing more than a souvenir. The dare itself had come from Duke Kahanamoku, a fellow Olympic medalist and one of Prieste's closest friends from the games.
The flag remained hidden away for decades, sitting quietly in that same suitcase until Prieste finally returned it in 1997 at an IOC banquet, where he received a commemorative Olympic medal from the IOC president in recognition of the flag's return.
Why Duke Kahanamoku Dared Him to Do It
Few Olympic pranksters can claim their mischief was sparked by one of sports history's most celebrated figures, but Prieste could. Duke Kahanamoku, the Native Hawaiian swimmer who battled early Olympic racism throughout his career, reportedly dared Prieste to climb the flagpole and swipe the flag after the 1920 Antwerp Games.
Duke wasn't just a swimmer — he was also deep into his surfing advocacy efforts, pushing governing bodies to recognize the sport globally. His bold personality matched his ambitions. You can imagine someone who'd lobbied the IOC directly in 1912 Stockholm wouldn't hesitate to spark a little postgame chaos.
That daring spirit defined Duke, whether he was challenging skeptical officials or nudging a teammate toward an act of legendary Olympic mischief. He also worked tirelessly to spread lifeguarding and water rescue concepts across the world, leaving a legacy far greater than any gold medal. At those same 1920 Antwerp Games, the Kahanamoku brothers swept medals in the 100m freestyle, cementing Hawaii's place as a dominant force in Olympic swimming.
How a Suitcase Kept the Olympic Flag Intact for 77 Years
When David Du Bonnet opened an old suitcase while cleaning his New York attic in 2004, he found the 1920 Antwerp Olympic flag folded inside, pristine after 77 years. The suitcase materials created an airtight, dust-free environment that protected the silk flag from mold, insects, and humidity fluctuations.
You'd be surprised how effectively attic storage conditions, typically harsh on most fabrics, worked in this flag's favor. The family kept it in dry, dark spaces, preventing light-induced fading. Minimal handling avoided tears or fraying, retaining 95% of the original stitching and colors.
The flag had survived two world wars, decades of secrecy, and multiple ownership transfers across generations, all while folded inside a simple suitcase that nobody outside the family knew existed.
Why Did Prieste Confess to Stealing the Olympic Flag in 1997?
The suitcase that preserved the flag so well also carried a secret its owner had kept for nearly eight decades. At a 1997 U.S. Olympic Committee banquet, a reporter mentioned the unknown fate of the first Olympic flag to 100-year-old Prieste. His motives for confession were surprisingly casual — he simply replied, "It's in my suitcase." No dramatic buildup, no guilt weighing him down.
Prieste hadn't fully grasped the flag's historical significance. He'd shown it to friends over the years purely for the story, unaware that officials had long debated its disappearance. The public response to confession was largely one of amusement rather than outrage, given his age and the dare from Olympic swimming legend Duke Kahanamoku that had started everything back in 1920.
How the Olympic Flag Made It Back to the IOC in 2000
Three years after his casual confession at a USOC banquet, Hal Haig Prieste finally returned the flag on September 11, 2000, in Sydney, Australia, during the IOC's annual meeting — timed deliberately to coincide with the Sydney Olympics. The stories around the unexpected return captured global attention, marking the significance of the Olympic flag's return after 80 years.
Prieste, wheelchair-bound at 103, presented the folded linen flag at the meeting's start. Anita DeFrantz introduced him as a living legend before the handover. Juan Antonio Samaranch, IOC president, received the flag directly from Prieste. Jacques Rogge, Belgian IOC member, personally greeted Prieste at the event.
The flag was later restored for display.
What Did the IOC Do With the Flag After Getting It Back?
After Samaranch received the flag from Prieste, the IOC faced a practical question: what do you do with a nearly century-old linen flag that spent decades folded in a steamer trunk? The exact details of the IOC's preservation efforts after the flag's recovery aren't fully documented in available public records, which is itself a notable gap.
What's clear is that the IOC's documentation of the flag's return acknowledges the 2000 Sydney ceremony as the official handover moment. The organization treated the reunion as historically significant, given the flag's 72-year absence. Beyond that, specifics about conservation treatments, storage conditions, or display decisions remain difficult to confirm without access to IOC archival sources.
If you're researching this topic further, the IOC's official archives in Lausanne would be your most reliable starting point. It's worth noting that rings are the exclusive property of the IOC, meaning all decisions about the flag's use and preservation fall entirely under their authority. Following the Sydney Games, the Olympic flag was passed to the Mayor of Athens in preparation for the 2004 Games.
What Happened to Hal Haig Prieste After the Confession?
Prieste didn't fade quietly into the background after his confession and the flag's return. His post 1920 olympic career and retirement activities showed a man who stayed remarkably active:
- He carried the Olympic torch at the 1996 Atlanta Games at age 100.
- He still performed push-ups at age 100, proving his athleticism never disappeared.
- He quit ice skating shortly before turning 100.
- He attended the 2000 Sydney IOC meeting, where DeFrantz introduced him as a "living legend" and Samaranch personally gave him a commemorative Olympic medal.
Prieste died on April 19, 2001, at age 104, recognized as the world's oldest former Olympic medalist and the first known Olympian whose life spanned three centuries.
What Other Olympic Artifacts Have Disappeared Over the Years?
The Olympic flag wasn't the only artifact to vanish from the Games' storied history — several other iconic pieces have disappeared, leaving collectors, historians, and fans with more questions than answers.
Lost olympic medals represent some of the most heartbreaking cases. Three of Jesse Owens' four 1936 Berlin gold medals have unknown whereabouts, while Muhammad Ali reportedly threw his 1960 gold medal into the Ohio River after facing racial discrimination. Both stories fuel speculation about olympic artifact black markets operating in the shadows.
Even physical structures tied to the Games haven't escaped disappearance — the original 1952 Helsinki Olympic torches, with only 22 ever produced, remain largely unaccounted for outside museums. These losses remind you that Olympic history is far more fragile than it appears. The torch Ali used to light the cauldron at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, for instance, survives today but remains temporarily hidden away at the Muhammad Ali Center while the museum undergoes a partial remodel.
Similarly, the vast majority of fixtures and interiors salvaged from the RMS Olympic were dispersed across the world when they were sold at auction in 2004, scattering a remarkable piece of maritime history among private collectors and leaving the original site in Haltwhistle with little trace of its storied past.