Sixty six years ago a new television show premiered. Bonanza, the saga of the Cartwrights of the Ponderosa ranch was made for the express purpose of selling color televisions, and it brought color to many lives.
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.
On September 10, 1939 the British submarine HMS Oxley was sunk off the coast of Norway, for a loss of all but two of her crew. More shocking, however, was the circumstance of the boat’s loss, an event clouded by wartime secrets and propaganda.