The Glenn Beck Program - The Day the Dollar Died / Rumors in Dearborn | Days of Ash | Ep 1 & 2

0:00The days of ash, episode one, the day the dollar died. I remember those smell of dust that morning. Dry, talic. Like something electric had sparked the earth. The sun was up, but it didn't feel like morning. It felt more like a warning. Like the air itself was holding its breath. The ticker came across 903 AM Eastern. Gold. $5,000, $2,000, and ounce. No breaking music, no red alerts, just a cold, black line with digital truth. $5,000, $2. Not a prediction, not a theory, a fact.

1:01The moment that it happened, I was standing in my barn, I was feeding my cows and my goats. I hadn't checked my phone yet. The radio was playing some old gospel track, Mahala Jackson, I think. That's when the music just cut out mid-note, switched to silence. Not static. Silence. It was like the tower was still up, but the soul behind it had walked out of the studio. I think that's when I knew, right then, without a word, it had begun. That afternoon, I saw a man cry in the parking lot of a hardware store, not because he was heard, but because he had $20,000 in his checking account and he couldn't buy a roll of copper wire. They had a handwritten sign on the door. Cash only, prices may change without notice. But it wasn't cash, everybody really wanted. It was silver or gold.

2:06Let me tell you what happens when the dollar dies. It doesn't happen all at once, like a heart attack. It happens more like gangrene, slow rot. The kind you ignore until it starts to stink up the whole house. First, the prices rise, then they lie, then they vanish altogether. Your bank app, it still loaves, but your debit card stops working. They tell you it's a processing issue. They say the system's overloaded right now, but you know better. The money is still there, but nobody believes in it anymore. That's what happened with the dollar. Look, I'm not an economist, I'm a farmer, I'm a father. I'm a man who spent the last 20 years quietly watching the world just go mad. But even I knew when you print trillions and spend trillions more and pretend the math just isn't real, eventually math wins. And it won in April, 2028.

3:11It wasn't a flash crash. It wasn't a stock market collapse, it was something deeper. It was a confidence collapse, the kind that rewrites nations and unirts old ghosts. High prices are here to stay. Gas, groceries, insurance, and if you're a homeowner, you've probably thought, should I call American financing to refinance and pay off this credit card debt? And then you second guess yourself because of your current low mortgage rate. Listen, that low rate is not saving you if you're drowning in credit card interest at 25% or more. That's the math nobody wants to face. But it's costing you thousands and here's the truth. If you're only making minimum payments, that debt will follow you free years. That's why people are calling American financing because they're saving customers an average of $800 a month by using their equity to finally break free from credit card debt. You owe it to your family to see what's possible. No upfront fees, no pressure, and it costs you nothing to find out if you could save something big every month.

4:11And if you start today, you may be able to delay up to two mortgage payments. So call American financing 890620440. That's 890620440 or visit Americanfinancing.net. NMLS12334, NMLSconsumeraccess.org. APR for reads in the five starts at 6.327% for walk qualified borrowers. Call 89062040 for details about credit costs and terms. Visit Americanfinancing.net, average savings based on borrowers who save up for $200. By nightfall, my neighbor Steve had showed up on my gate. He was out of some medicine, not permanently, just out until his next shipment. But we both knew that shipment probably wasn't coming. The pharmacies weren't even answering their phones now. He stood there in the dark looking at me. Hold now to medical bag like a child holding a broken toy. I just need enough to last the week. I had prepared. I let him in. I gave him what I had. I told him we'll figure something out, but we both knew.

5:13No one was coming. The cities they were louder. I could hear it on the CB riots in Atlanta, roadblocks in Chicago, gas stations being stripped bare in under 10 minutes. A woman in Denver? She was shot over a loaf of bread. The guy who shot her said, well, she had two. And the shooter had none. That's what it turns into. It doesn't turn into politics. It doesn't turn into protests. It's hunger, panic, numbers with teeth. You didn't hear much about Bitcoin when people were eating their pets. I had a small transmitter and receiver in my basement. It was an old ham rig that I kept for storms and blackouts. I turned it on around midnight. I was on the 20 meter band. I had a voice I hadn't heard in years. It crackled through the speaker like a ghost. It said, If you're hearing this, you're not alone.

6:13Don't believe what they're telling you. The system is in down. It's just off. They turned it off. This was planned. I don't remember exactly who he was, but the voice was steady and confident. He started reading off locations. Preparant node 12, Decatur, Tennessee, Operational, Refugees, welcome, Vending required. Liberty patch 7, near Waco, Power Water, Barter Only, Armed perimeter don't approach unannounced. This went on for 10 minutes. He was listing coordinates and call signs. And that's when it hit me. This wasn't a breakdown. This was a reset. All the people who had been called crazy, they were the ones that were still talking and still moving. By sunrise, gas had tripled. Banks were closed for technical maintenance. The White House issues a statement through a recorded video. We're in discussions with international partners to stabilize the market.

7:15Translation. Then I have a clue. That afternoon, a friend sent me some footage from Paris. Three explosions coordinated. One at a synagogue, one at a fuel depot. One at the Euro bank headquarters. All claimed within hours by a group that hadn't been active in five years. Ansar Al-Taued, reborn, was weaponized. And it was operating out of the suburbs of France. Europe was already on fire, but here in America it was still just whispers. I remember stepping into my pantry that evening, taking stock, not for panic, just for inventory. Six months of food, maybe more if we rationed. Water for longer, assuming the well held. Medical supplies good, but not great. Ammo, decent, not for war, for wolves. What kind of wolves will we be facing? I walked a perimeter of my land with a flashlight and a prayer.

8:16The night was quiet, but the silence didn't comfort me anymore. It felt, I don't know, artificial, like the world was holding its breath. The first signal from Dearborn came two days later. Unconfirmed reports of men in tactical gear, stopping cars, checking IDs. They weren't police, they weren't feds. It was private. They were masked, well armed. A drone caught footage of them, unloading crates from the back of a semi. All of it labeled an Arabic. The media said it was a militia drill. Local said, this is an occupation. You know, you don't notice the collapse in headlines. Where you really notice it, where you really feel it, is when your neighbor asks. Is your family safe? Or when the UPS truck just doesn't come? Or when school sends home an email saying, we're suspending in-person classes indefinitely. You really feel it when your kids ask, what's going on?

9:19And you just don't have an answer that you actually believe yourself. That is what it felt like the day the dollar died. Not because gold hit $5,000, but because we stopped believing in one another. Because the lies finally outnumbered the truth. It wasn't about money. It was all about trust. And once that trust finally breaks, the rest of it goes with it. Banks, markets, cities, nations, marriages even. And a friend whose wife just couldn't handle it. Left with the kids two days after the first blackout. She said she was going to her sisters in Oregon. He never heard from her again. I watched that man age ten years and a week. I didn't really talk much after that. Just sat on his porch with a shotgun and a Bible. It was the first week that was the most surreal. People still went to work. They still waited for the power to come back.

10:21They lined up at gas stations like things were going to be normal by Monday. But by Thursday, normal was gone. They started breaking into grocery stores that morning. Not looters, families, desperate, scared, unarmed, hungry. Police, they didn't do anything. Not because they didn't care. But because they were gone too. Day six, a convoy of trucks came down the highway near my town. Not military, not FEMA, private, armored, no plates. They didn't stop for anyone. They didn't answer calls. They just kept driving. West. Rumor was they were heading for some secure facility in Utah. Some kind of continuity of government compound. Built years ago, hidden, guarded. I didn't know if this was true, but I do know this. The people in charge, they had a plan for themselves. They just didn't have one for us. By the end of the second week, the first homemade radio networks had formed.

11:22Farms in Missouri, truckers in Idaho, retired Navy men in Tennessee. Shortwave towers lit up like bonfires on the edge of a very dark world. And every night, I just tune in. Just to hear another voice. Just to know, I wasn't alone. Somewhere around day 10, the maps started changing. And it wasn't online. The internet was mostly gone by then. These were hand-drawn maps. Past around, person-to-person, faxed, printed, whispered. New borders, new lines, free states. No governance zones. Autonomous regions. Rumors of Sharia courts and many apples of malicious holding checkpoints in northern California. Synagogues being burned in New York and San Diego. Just days apart. No confirmation. No retractions. Just fire. And silence. I remember walking into my local church a few days later.

12:22Not for service, just, I don't know, for peace. The pastor had left a note on the altar. It read, The light shines in the darkness. And the darkness has not overcome it. John 1.5. Nice to there. Just looking at that for a long time. I didn't pray. I didn't cry. I just listened to the silence, to the creaking of the wood, to the soft ticking of an old clock, the sound of a world just slipping out of its skin. And then the voice came again. Same-ham radio channel, same man. He said, If you're hearing this, you're part of the web. At word caught in my throat, remnant. It didn't mean survivors. It meant believers, builders, witnesses.

13:28There will be no cavalry, no reset button, no rescue from above. You are the rescue. So love your families. Guard your home. Speak the truth. And stay on the air. And then he signed off with that phrase I hadn't heard in years. How are the republics? And then it went quiet. That was the night I decided not to fight. Not yet, nonetheless, I had to. To plant, to prepare, become the kind of man my grandfather was, the kind of man that no man had been required to be for a very long time. The kind that didn't wait for Washington to fix things, the kind that picked up a shovel, a rifle, a Bible, he said, as for me and my house. Still don't know his name. A guy on the radio. But if he's listening now,

14:29so am I. And I've got my seat ready. Like what you're hearing so far, until next week for more, torch insiders have access to all 10 episodes of Days of Ash right now, commercial free. Go to Glenbeck.com slash torch and unlock the full experience today. The Days of Ash, Episode two, rumors into your born. The old timers say that when real trouble comes, it doesn't knock. It leaks. First in whispers, then in glances, then in fear, you can taste, which can't name. And the first real trouble I felt wasn't a scream or a siren.

15:30It was just silence, the kind that settled over the Midwest like a winter fog. We ended up calling it rumors and deer born. But by the time it had a name, it had already spread. It started out with videos, grainy dim, filmed from behind cracked apartment windows or half-lowered blinds. A van unloading in the night, men with covered faces holding up black flags and small arms. Kids barely 20 standing in alleyways with thousand yard stairs and loaded rifles. But it wasn't just the flags. It was who was carrying them. Some bore verses in Arabic others in German Gothic script. Some had crosses, others wore stars, one had the word patriot painted across his bulletproof vest in red spray paint. And that's when it hit me. This was not just one movement. This was not just one enemy. This was a fracture. Everyone was fighting for a piece of a world that had already collapsed.

16:34And then pretending it was their piece was the only one that mattered. And deer born wasn't the only place. It was just the loudest at first. Once the dollar broke and the grid flickered, power vacuums didn't stay empty for long. In cities all across the Midwest police pulled back not by choice, but just for survival. Mayors told them stand down, governors promised calm, and in the gaps left behind, something else moved in. Something ideological. Some of it violent. Some of it just hungry. In deer born they called it community self-governance. But the man who said that was later found hanging from a bridge with a note pendo his chest. Too slow. It read. By week three border patrol was gone.

17:34Not retreated. Gone. The southern border turned black on most maps. The cartels didn't need to storm the country. They walked in. Many of them were already here. They came dressed as truckers, migrants, priests, relief workers. They brought food. And they brought fentanyl. Gasoline. And death. And America. Still pretending it was just a temporary emergency. Welcomeed it all with wide open arms. No vetting, no questioning. Just need. And those who filled it first. Well, they own everything after. I remember standing in my kitchen sink one night watching my dog bark at something in the woods. That's nothing probably a deer. But my hand still went to the pistol on my belt. That's how fast the world had changed. In 20 days I had gone from hosting a barbecue to checking firing lines from my porch.

18:39The radio static was thicker now. Most of the ham channels were dead. But one guy still came through near midnight, same voices before. He never gave a name. Only coordinates, updates, and stories. That night he said. Multiple factions down moving in Dearborn. Not just one. Multiple. Visal missiles. Yes. But also hard-lying separatists. Road, militia, offshoots, cartel, enforcers disguised as volunteer security. There are neo-Nazi enclaves in Wisconsin arming up. Black market dealers in Detroit selling Russian grenades. And teeth of barricades in Lansing. We're not looking at civil war. We're looking at a feast. And then for a long moment he didn't speak. Then came the words I still hear sometimes in my sleep. The wolves are better door.

19:41They're in our living room. And they are arguing over who gets to eat first. The next day the map changed again. A new phrase appeared. Zones of ethnic or ideological control. These weren't official. They weren't even precise, but they were close enough to make your stomach turn. Whole counties were marked uncertain. Not blue, not red, just gray, uncertain. Like someone had erased all of them from the national covenant. I tried to warn a friend in Chicago he worked at the news station. He would always roll his eyes at my prepping. When I called for the first time he didn't mock me. He whispered. They took over the studio last night. He said. We're still broadcasting, but the scripts all have to be pre-approved now. One of the producers didn't follow it. And none of us have seen him. He's gone.

20:43Gone? How, I asked. Just gone. He told me to stay quiet, stay rural, and stay armed. He hung up without saying goodbye. Two days later the first border checkpoint appeared in Missouri. Not by the government, but by someone else. Men in black uniforms, no insignia. They carried scanners, asked drivers for their papers. And if he didn't have what they wanted, you were just gone. Convoy of Semi's vanished outside Joplin. Three days later, footage emerged from their drivers, tied to trees, stripped, and bleeding. The message was clear. Rules are different now, and so are the rulers. My daughter asked me one night. Daddy, are we at war? I didn't know what to tell her.

21:44There weren't any declarations. There were no uniforms, no flag-raising ceremonies, no presidential speeches, just a slow burn in the rising smell of ash. Then came the story from New Mexico, a border town overrun. No resistance, no warning. Tillston just controlled it. They rebranded it. New signs, new currency, a new anthem. They called it Nuevo Sur. Posted their own laws, banned English. The state government didn't say anything, Washington issued a brief statement about monitoring the situation, and then silence. Artificial intelligence can write like you. It can mimic your voice.

23:05You can turn the clock, send you urgent alerts if there's activity. And if you do become a victim, their restoration team will spend up to a million dollars restoring your title. So when was the last time you checked on your title records? You can do it today. Use the promo code Glenn at hometitellock.com. Get a free title history report plus a free trial of their million dollar triple lock protection plan. Make sure that your home is your home, and it stays that way. Hometitellock.com promo code Glenn. By now, whispers of foreign help began circulating. First as mockery, then as theory, then as arrival. Blue helmets were spotted in Norfolk. UN peacekeeping command, humanitarian designation. They set up shop in an old naval facility. They brought food, water, and drones. China, the West Coast, they sent their own detachment days later. You know, just to protect shared industrial assets in California and Oregon.

24:06But they didn't leave. They didn't rotate out. They didn't answer to Washington. They flew their own flags and they watched everything. The news called them stabilization partners. The people called them occupiers. One I'd heard an old preacher on the backwoods broadcast. I don't know where he was, but he said something that stopped. He said, we thought our borders were lines on a map. But it turns out they were held together by belief. And when that belief died, so did all the lines. Dearborn went quiet the seventh week. No footage, no post, no calls. The internet blackout now is nearly total. All that came out was a 12-second clip smuggled on an old satellite feed. It was just a street lined with burning cars.

25:06Flag flying over the police station. Black, red, and green. A child older than 10 holding an assault rifle and staring dead into the camera. And then the clip just went to black. Underneath, someone had written this. This is what happens when the state forgets who it serves. At my church we stopped meeting for worship. We would worship on our own time. We started meeting for planning. The pews were turned into dry good shells. The pulpit held maps. The altar was covered now in rifles and canned beans and handwritten lists. Each list had three columns, known safe places, known unsafe roads. People to call if everything goes dark again. We kept a fourth column on a separate page. Trusted fighters.

26:07We didn't tape that page up. That was hidden, folded in the pastor's Bible right next to the book of Judges. When I'd asked my son what he thought was happening. He looked at me with eyes too old for 16 years now. He said, I think our country was a story, dad. I think our country was a good one. No one finished it. And so now everybody thinks they can write their own ending. In Texas they burned cartel fields with homemade napalm. In Michigan, vigilantes took back a city block. Set up their own courts and hang the looters. In Portland they set up a new commune. Armed, guarded and atheistic to the bone. In Florida, sheriff's deputized whole neighborhoods and blocked off highways with bulldozers. And in Washington, no one could agree on anything except who was in my fault.

27:10The voice on the radio came back. Same channel, same scratchy cadence. If you're still in an urban zone, believe, pack light, travel at dawn. Trust no one without eyes that know yours. He said the foreign peacekeepers would grow bolder soon. And we're just stabilizing. They were surveying. They were mapping. They were marking. He said there were whispers of permanent zones of controls. You end protect writ of Northeast corridor, the Chinese autonomous recovery zone, Pacific Grid 3. The continental free trade corridor, Mexican delegation. He paused and then said quietly. They didn't come to help us. They came to make sure we never get up again. It's funny because I don't even know if we still have a president. I don't know if elections even matter anymore. I don't know if the flag still flies over the Capitol or if it's just a curtain for God.

28:10Just a curtain for ghosts. But I do know this. And dearborn, the rumors stopped. Because the fight there ended. And the new rules began. And the rest of us. I don't know. Maybe we're next. Just a reminder. I'd love you to rate and subscribe to the podcast and pass us on to a friend. So it can be discovered by other people.