You’ve probably seen the tiktok or the late-night thread. The one about the "creepy" airport with the underground bunkers and the mural of a gas-masked soldier stabbing a dove.
Honestly, it’s a lot to take in when you’re just trying to find Cinnabon before a six-hour layover.
The murals at the Denver airport—specifically the massive, vibrant, and occasionally terrifying works by Chicano artist Leo Tanguma—have fueled more conspiracy theories than almost any other piece of public infrastructure in America. People talk about the New World Order, secret Nazi blueprints, and apocalyptic warnings hidden in the brushstrokes.
But what’s actually going on with them?
As of early 2026, the terminal looks a lot different than it did when the airport opened in '95. If you walk through the Great Hall today, you might notice something surprising: the murals are gone. Well, not gone-gone. They’re in storage.
Where Did the Murals Go?
The Great Hall Project, a massive multi-year renovation aimed at handling the 100 million passengers Denver expects to see annually, has moved the furniture around.
Phase 2 wrapped up in early 2024, and the "Completion Phase" is currently in full swing, headed toward a 2027 finish line. Because of the heavy construction, Tanguma’s two famous mural series—In Peace and Harmony with Nature and Children of the World Dream of Peace—were carefully removed and put into climate-controlled storage.
It wasn't a "cover-up" by a secret society. It was literally just to keep them from getting covered in drywall dust and smashed by a forklift.
The airport plans to bring them back once the dust settles. When they return, they’ll likely be part of the "Global Gateway" and "Living Room" concepts on Level 5. These areas are designed to be high-energy hubs with craft beer and better seating, which is a weird contrast to murals that depict the literal end of the world.
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The Soldier, the Dove, and the Gas Mask
If you’ve never seen the murals in person, let’s talk about why people freak out.
The most famous panel in Children of the World Dream of Peace features a hulking, grey-clad soldier. He wears a gas mask. He’s wielding a massive scimitar. In his other hand, he’s got a machine gun. He is actively stabbing a white dove of peace.
It’s intense.
For a weary traveler, it feels like a threat. Conspiracy theorists, like former Minnesota Governor Jesse Ventura, have pointed to this as proof of a planned global takeover. They see the children sleeping in the foreground as a sign of a "silent" or "sheep-like" population being slaughtered.
But Tanguma has been incredibly open about his intent. He’s a social realist. He’s not interested in painting pretty clouds.
"I need to see what's wrong in society, and then reflect it in my murals," Tanguma once told Rocky Mountain PBS.
The "scary" part is only half of the story. If you look at the second panel, the soldier is dead. The children of the world—dressed in traditional folk costumes from 70 different countries—are literally beating their swords into plowshares. The "New World Order" people often ignore the fact that the message is explicitly anti-war.
Real People, Real Tragedy
There is a detail in these murals that most people miss entirely.
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Look at the children in the "peace" section. Some of them aren't just generic faces. Tanguma included portraits of real Denver kids who died from gang violence in the early 90s.
One mother asked him to memorialize her son who had committed suicide. Another asked him to paint her daughter, who was killed while trying to help a friend escape an abusive situation.
When you know that, the murals stop feeling like a "clue" to a secret bunker and start feeling like a grieving community's attempt to imagine a better world. It’s heavy stuff for an airport baggage claim, but it’s grounded in local Denver history, not global domination.
Extinction and the Burning Forest
The other mural series, In Peace and Harmony with Nature, is just as polarizing.
One side is a nightmare of environmental collapse.
- Children are crying over three open caskets.
- One casket holds a dead girl, another a Native American woman, another a Black woman.
- They are surrounded by extinct animals like the Passenger Pigeon and the Great Auk.
- The background is a literal wall of fire.
It’s meant to be a warning about climate change and the destruction of the earth. But again, people see the caskets and think "population control."
The flip side of the mural shows a literal "Rebirth." People are planting trees. The animals are back. The children are happy. It’s a narrative arc: from destruction to harmony.
Why the Conspiracy Theories Won’t Die
Look, the Denver Airport (DEN) doesn't exactly help itself.
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The place is weird. The runways sort of look like a swastika from the air (mostly because of how they have to handle wind patterns). There is a 32-foot blue mustang with glowing red eyes ("Blucifer") that actually fell on and killed its creator, Luis Jiménez.
There's even a dedication capstone with a Freemason symbol.
The airport staff has leaned into the weirdness lately. They’ve put up signs during construction that say things like "What are we doing? A) Building secret tunnels B) Redesigning the Great Hall."
But the murals are the heart of it. They are provocative. Public art usually tries to be "safe" or "inspiring" in a vague, corporate way. Tanguma’s work is the opposite of safe. It’s loud, political, and frankly, a little jarring when you’re jet-lagged.
What to Look For When They Return
When the murals are finally re-installed (estimated 2026-2027), you should take a closer look.
Don't just look at the soldier. Look at the flags. There is a whole Reddit community dedicated to identifying every flag the children are carrying. Look for the Quetzal bird—it’s a symbol of freedom in many cultures but also a species at risk of extinction.
Tanguma’s work is a puzzle, but it’s a human one.
Actionable Insights for Your Next Trip
- Check the Location: The murals are currently off-view. Don't spend your layover wandering around Level 5 looking for them until the "Completion Phase" of the Great Hall project is further along in 2027.
- Visit the Mustang: If you want your fix of weird Denver art, you can still see "Blucifer" on the drive in. Just remember the red eyes are a tribute to the artist's father, who worked with neon.
- Explore Concourse A: While the murals are tucked away, the airport is adding new permanent art to the gate expansion areas in Concourses A, B, and C throughout 2026. Keep an eye out for Benjamin Ball's Dance the Sky Softly.
- Verify the Source: If you see a "hidden message" online, cross-reference it with the Denver Public Art archives. They have the original descriptions and Tanguma's own explanations for every panel.
The murals at the Denver airport aren't a map to an underground city. They’re a messy, beautiful, and deeply 90s attempt to talk about world peace and environmentalism. Whether they belong in a place where people are mostly worried about their boarding group is a different question entirely.