For 13 years, a small box of red tin letters sat in the archives of the Tweed Regional Museum, silent and stubbornly unsolved.
Curator Erika Taylor had stumbled upon them while cataloguing artifacts, immediately sensing that they were important.
But without a label or any record of where they came from, the letters were nothing more than an infuriating riddle.
Taylor, meticulous and determined, tried everything.
She rearranged them, stared at them, even fed them into anagram-solving AI programs. Yet the letters refused to give up their meaning.
Occasionally, other museum staff would pull them out, shuffle them on the table like pieces of a broken code, and try again. Each time, they were left just as baffled.
But Taylor wasn’t willing to let the mystery gather dust any longer.
How to solve a problem like a curator
Taylor had learned an important truth: if you want the right answer, post the wrong one online, and someone will correct you in seconds (a fun piece of human psychology known as Cunningham’s Law)
So, she turned to the museum’s 8,500 followers on social media, throwing the puzzle to the public. “Help us solve this mystery!” she wrote, posting a photo of the jumbled letters.
It took only minutes for the first notifications to chime in.
Some suggestions were creative—“Saw lucid timbered cat.” Others were completely absurd—“My hovercraft is full of eels.”
But one man, Mick Bambery, took the puzzle seriously.
A lifelong fan of brainteasers, he didn’t rely on technology or apps. Instead, he did something deceptively simple, he grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote the letters down.
He could see part of the answer immediately. “Tweed district… something,” he typed into the comments. Then, a minute later, he revised his answer:
“Tweed District Ambulance.”
Mystery solved. A puzzle that had haunted the museum for over a decade was cracked in the time it took Mick to drink half his morning coffee.
The revelation that emerged
And yet, solving the anagram wasn’t the real surprise. What followed was even more remarkable.
With the answer in hand, the community began filling in the missing history.
Stories and old photographs surfaced. One mystery led to another, and piece by piece, the collective memory of a town was restored
And that’s why this story isn’t just about an old set of letters. It’s a tale of the power of interactive storytelling – how engaging an audience in solving a mystery made history come alive.
Brands can take a lesson from this: When we invite people into the story, they become active participants rather than passive observers.
The shift from passive to interactive
Traditionally, storytelling in organisations – whether a museum preserving history, a brand shaping its identity, or a startup selling a vision – has been one-directional.
The museum hangs an exhibit with neatly printed plaques. The brand crafts a polished campaign. The startup tells customers what makes their product great.
But interactive storytelling flips this dynamic.
Rather than dictating the narrative, organisations let the audience become part of the discovery. This turns passive viewers into active participants, building deeper engagement and emotional connection.
The Tweed Regional Museum’s mystery wasn’t a one-directional story told to the public, it was a puzzle for them to solve. And that made all the difference for how the audience interacted.
Why do people engage more with interactive stories?
The reason why the red-letter mystery captivated the museum’s audience is the same reason why a great escape room is fun, why ‘choose your own adventure’ books are so addictive, and why people instinctively correct false information online. We love to solve problems.
There are three psychological forces at play here:
1. Curiosity and the need for closure
When people see a mystery, they feel an irresistible urge to solve it.
The incomplete nature of a puzzle leaves an open loop in the brain, and we’re wired to seek closure.
2. The IKEA effect (people value what they help build)
If you’ve ever struggled to put together a piece of IKEA furniture, you know how frustrating it can be. But oddly enough, once built, you feel more attached to it.
The same principle applies here: When people help shape a story, they feel a sense of ownership over it.
3. The power of social proof
When Mick correctly identified the letters as “Tweed District Ambulance,” others quickly joined the conversation to reminisce about the old ambulance station.
One solved mystery led to a cascade of shared memories, photos, and history. This is how great interactive storytelling snowballs into a community-driven narrative.
How organisations can use interactive storytelling
The Tweed Regional Museum turned a forgotten artifact into a compelling collaborative story.
This same approach can be applied across brands and businesses to create richer, more engaging experiences. Here’s how brands can apply interactive storytelling:
- Create challenges and puzzles: Just like the museum mystery, brands can post riddles, scavenger hunts, or interactive campaigns that spark curiosity.
- Encourage user-generated content: Instead of just showcasing products, invite customers to share their own stories and experiences with the brand.
- Leverage the “incomplete story” effect: Cliffhangers work in TV shows for a reason. Leaving an open question for the audience to solve (e.g. “What do you think this means?”) can generate huge engagement.
- Turn customers into heroes: People connect more with stories about people like them. Instead of focusing on your product, tell the stories of how customers are using it to solve problems.
A great example of this is Spotify Wrapped. The year-end recap doesn’t just tell you what you listened to, but turns you into part of the experience, and sparks a flood of social sharing.
Storytelling works best as a two-way street
The Tweed Regional Museum could have kept the red letters in storage. Or they could have simply posted a solved mystery in a dry Facebook post.
But instead, they let their audience be part of the discovery.
This gave us a viral moment, a deeper connection between the museum and its followers, and a richer understanding of history.
Companies can all learn from this. When people help shape a story, they remember it. When they feel ownership over the discovery, they care about it. And when they feel like they’re part of something bigger than themselves, they share it.
The next time you’re thinking about telling a story, ask: “How can I turn this into an experience?” Because in the end, the best stories aren’t just heard. They’re lived.
For more about the story, read: 13-year-old mystery of Tweed Regional Museum’s red letters solved in time it took to drink half a cuppa || ABC News
