In 1906, a famed explorer saw something on the horizon that would lead an expedition of men to search for a magnificent land they hoped would be full of new and undiscovered treasures for science.

One famous dolphin lived near the shores of New Zealand in the late 1800s, and swam alongside hundreds of ships, becoming a beloved figure to locals and foreigners alike, and described as ”the best known fish in the world.”

It was relatively common in the middle ages for Kings, royals, and various other titled men to die in combat, and they were at least usually expected to fight personally. Despite the dangers of medieval combat and the expectations of nobility, however, many at the highest levels of aristocracy died in less than noble mundane accidents, and even in embarrassing circumstances.

The New York Times proclaimed, “America’s glorious fourth in this year of grace is more than likely to be written in the future histories of the entire world as one of the most portentous days that has ever dawned.”

In April of 1894, a young man from Pittsburgh left Tabriz, Persia, aboard a bicycle, bound for the turbulent land of the Ottoman Empire. His story had seen coverage in newspapers around the world - attention would only magnify when he mysteriously disappeared in the remote terrain of Turkish Armenia.

The Battle of Midway represented a significant blow to the Imperial Japanese Navy, and a measure of revenge for the United States, in the sinking of four aircraft carriers. But there was an ancillary story that is not nearly as well known.