People disappear all the time. The world is like a giant washing machine and we are the socks of the world. People have gone away all of history. This is a snip of one person. Gone and forgotten somewhere. The mourning is over and the life is just a few reports sitting in the dead files. But when she was alive she made headlines. And now she has slipped into the crack of time. Gone and for the most part forgotten.
American aviation pioneer Amelia Earhart disappears in the Central Pacific during an attempt to fly around the world.
Aviator Amelia Earhart was born on July 24, 1897 in Atchison, Kansas. In 1923, Earhart, fondly known as “Lady Lindy,” became the 16th woman to be issued a pilot’s license. She had several notable flights, becoming the first woman to fly across the Atlantic Ocean in 1928, as well as the first person to fly over both the Atlantic and Pacific. In 1937, she mysteriously disappeared while trying to circumnavigate the globe from the equator. Since then, several theories have formed regarding Earhart’s last days, many of which have been connected to various artifacts that have been found on Pacific islands—including clothing, tools and, more recently, freckle cream. Earhart was legally declared dead in 1939.
I do not know why but certain things stand out to me. I heard that Earhart had been asked by our country to scout the Pacific to validate the movements of the Japanese. There was conviction that Japan was making moves and she was to report on them.
Note on the article: freckle cream. What is it?
Researchers for The International Group for Historic Aircraft Recovery found the jar, broken into five pieces, on a remote island in the Pacific republic of Kiribati, giving support to theories that the uninhabited island became Earhart’s final resting place, Discovery News reports.
When reassembled, the jar resembles early 20th century containers for Dr. C. H Berry’s Freckle Ointment, a cream that was used to fade freckles.
Joe Cerniglia, the researcher who recognized the connection between the jars, said that Earhart was not a fan of her spots.
“It’s well-documented Amelia had freckles and disliked having them,” Cerniglia told Discovery News.
Now that is that. The forensics are in. My question is if Earhart used it would there be traces of her DNA so the connection would be exact? Just a thought.
Another thought the plane with hundreds that disappeared last year, same area and we cannot find it. Conspiracy thought or not?
A note: It is now 2016 and how many pilots of big airlines are women? Makes you think.
Civil Airmen Statistics, in 2011 there were about 617,000 qualified pilots in the United States, 41,000 of which were women, which means just over 93% of all pilots in 2011 were men.
he celebrated little person was married on February 10th, 1863.
The wedding photo of Charles Sherwood Stratton (Tom Thumb) and Lavinia Warren.
Charles Sherwood Stratton seemed a perfectly normal baby when he was born in Bridgeport, Connecticut in 1838, but from the age of six or seven months he stopped growing. He added a few inches later on, but he would never stand as much as three feet tall. He was four when he came to the attention of Phineas T. Barnum, who staged freak shows in New York City and later founded the Barnum and Bailey circus. Barnum made friends with the Stratton family and took Charles and his parents off to New York. With training Charley quickly proved to be a brilliant mimic, comedian and all-round entertainer. Barnum called him General Tom Thumb and gave out that he was 11 years old and had just arrived from England.
In 1844 Barnum took his protégé to London, where he was driven about in a carriage hauled by miniature horses and charmed Queen Victoria when she summoned him to Buckingham Palace. He went on to tour France, where his impersonation of Napoleon Bonaparte went down well. Witty and charming, he was old beyond his years, drank wine with his meals from the age of five and started smoking cigars when he was seven. He said later that he never had a childhood.
Successful tours of the United States and Europe continued and in 1862 Tom fell in love at first sight with a pretty dwarf called Lavinia Warren (she had started life as Mercy Lavinia Warren Bump) when she began working for Barnum. It was Barnum who paid for their wedding and he made it a spectacular event in Manhattan. The best man was another Barnum dwarf and the bridesmaid was Lavinia’s sister. Huge crowds watched the bride and groom arrive at Grace Episcopal Church, where they were married by the pastor of the Bridgeport church in which Charley Stratton had been christened. Congressmen, generals and the cream of New York society attended the ceremony and went on to the reception at the Metropolitan Hotel, where the newlyweds stood on top of a grand piano to greet more than 2,000 guests (some of whom are said to have paid Barnum for their invitations).
President Abraham Lincoln gave a reception for Tom and Lavinia at the White House. They toured Europe and later Asia and the Far East, performing together and hiring a baby in each country, which they pretended was their own. They later joined Barnum’s circus.
Tom died of a stroke in 1883 at the age of 45 and 10,000 people attended his funeral. Lavinia married again, but when she died in her late 70s in 1919 she was buried beside her first husband.
Conjoined twins Chang and Eng Bunker were born in Siam in 1811.Getty Images
When it was announced that conjoined twins Chang and Eng Bunker, best known as The Siamese Twins, were planning to come to France in 1831, French authorities were so afraid of the effect the men, then 20, would have on France’s women that they banned their entrance into the country.
While the concept of conjoined twins — two independent people permanently joined as one — is intriguing for many reasons, few aspects spur as much curiosity as how two such people live romantic, sexual lives.
According to author Joseph Andrew Orser’s new book, “The Lives of Chang & Eng,” the Bunkers, born in Siam in 1811 and connected at the midsection by a fleshy band several inches long, were spotted in their teens by a British merchant who first thought they were “some strange animal.” When they turned 18, he made a deal to bring them to America and exhibit them as public curiosities.
Upon their arrival, they were subject to countless medical inquiries. One doctor, testing their connecting band with needles to determine sensitivity, found that “both boys drew away from punctures at the middle of the band, whereas at half an inch or more from the center, only the twin on that side felt the pain.”
He also found that “when one experienced a sour taste, the other did as well,” and that “tickling one of them resulted in the other demanding a stop to it.”
More than their connective similarities, though, the public wondered about the boys’ potential sex lives. One story held that Chang interfered in one of Eng’s pursuits, and that, according to one newspaper, “the brothers would have engaged in a duel, but ‘the parties could not agree on a distance.’ ” This and other tales were more than likely unfounded, but provided opportunities for public mockery.
“The prospect of the twins engaging in sexual relations with women disturbed sensibilities,” Orser writes. “Concerns existed about the impact that the twins conjoinedness might have on women of childbearing age.”
In one extreme example, when a woman in Kentucky gave birth to stillborn conjoined twins, she “claimed she had seen numerous representations of the twins in newspaper advertisements around the time she conceived her children, which affected her imagination.”
The brothers gained fame as freaks, and saw opportunity as Americans. After a decade on the sideshow circuit, having saved some money, they retired, bought land in North Carolina, and set out to create lives for themselves as proper Southern gentlemen. They bought property, became US citizens, and even took on slaves — ironic, considering that throughout their early lives here, many questioned whether, despite their firm denials, they were slaves themselves.
In 1843, Chang and Eng married, respectively, sisters Adelaide and Sarah Yates, daughters of a respected local landowner. While the girls had a “fair share of suitors,” the brothers had gotten to know them over several years, often visiting upon their return from business travels, and befriending the entire family.
When the couples “made their intentions to marry known by riding together in an open wagon,” one report of the time cites how “all hell broke loose.” “A few men ‘smashed through some windows at [the girls’ father’s] farm house,’” and some of his neighbors “threatened to burn his crops if he did not promise to control his daughters.”
The local media reacted to the unions with jibes. The Carolina Watchman, in a post titled “Marriage Extraordinaire,” wished for the marriage to be “as happy as it will be close.” Another paper inquired as to whether the women ought to be indicted for “marrying a quadruped.”
Northern newspapers were appalled, as abolitionist papers placed “responsibility for the union squarely on a South contaminated by the sin of slavery.” One paper even called the marriage “bestial,” and referred to the tolerant local residents as “a community sunk below the very Sodomites in lasciviousness.”
For their part, though, the two couples — and they were, unquestionably, two distinct couples, coming to live in separate homes, with the brothers alternating half weeks in each — sought little more than normal lives.
But many among the public and the media, having barely brought themselves to tolerate the brothers’ existence, found the concept of intimate relations between them and “normal” women a step too far.
Each wife gave birth in 1844. While no details survived about how the couples conducted their intimacy, it’s worth noting that the brothers’ first children were born six days apart, and a later pair eight days. (They would go on to have an astounding 21 children between them.)
When the twins, in need of money, later returned to touring exhibitions, this time bringing two of their children along, many refused to accept this unconventional family.
As they traveled through England, some in the British press “doubted whether the ‘family’ was even real,” Orser writes. “For some, it was too ‘disgusting’ to imagine these ‘human monsters’ as husbands or fathers.”
In 1870, Chang suffered a stroke that “paralyzed his right side, the side closest to his brother.” Eng nursed him back to relative health as Chang “tied up his right leg in a sling” and, using both a crutch and his brother’s arm, went about his daily routine.
But he never returned to full health, and took to drinking. A lingering cough later turned vicious, and he died on Jan. 17, 1874. His brother, complaining of ill health, asked his son to check on his brother. Told that Chang had passed, Eng replied, “Then I am going.”
Over the next hour, he “suffered intense pain and distress, a cold sweat covering his body. The only notice he took of his dead twin was to move his body nearer to him.”
Two-and-a-half hours after losing his brother, Eng Bunker died.
During his lifetime, Jumbo was the biggest elephant in captivity. He was born in Africa in 1860 or 1861, and spent most of his life entertaining and giving rides at the London Zoo. Due to his size and notoriety, P.T. Barnum decided he needed Jumbo in his circus. Despite objections by the British people, Barnum bought Jumbo in 1882 and shipped him to America where he was greeted upon his arrival by a crowd of 10,000 hoping to get a glimpse of the famous animal.
Matthew “Scotty” Scott, a zookeeper who had been put in charge of Jumbo when he first arrived in London, remained with the elephant ever since. He had trained Jumbo, shared a bottle of beer with him every night before bed, and was the only person who could keep Jumbo in control. For this reason, Barnum hired Scotty to maintain this role.
Jumbo spent three years touring with Barnum’s circus before the tragedy that took his life.
On September 15, 1885, Jumbo was struck and killed by a freight train while the circus was unloading on the rails in Canada. As Barnum told the story, Jumbo was trying to save a dwarf elephant named Tom Thumb from the oncoming train when it hit him, instead. Tom Thumb survived with nothing more than a broken leg.
Jumbo died at a railway classification yard in Canada at St. Thomas, Ontario. While out exercising, he tripped and fell on train tracks, impaling himself on his tusk and dying instantly. Shortly after his death, an unexpected locomotive ran over his body. Barnum told the story that he died saving a young circus elephant, Tom Thumb, from being hit by the locomotive, but other witnesses did not support this. The most popular version of the story has the elephant being struck and killed by the locomotive.
Barnum’s story says that the younger elephant, Tom Thumb, was on the railroad tracks. Jumbo was walking up to lead him to safety, but an unexpected locomotive hit Tom Thumb, killing him instantly. Because of this, the locomotive derailed and hit Jumbo, killing him too. According to newspaper accounts at the time, the freight train hit Jumbo directly, killing him, while the other elephant suffered a broken leg.
Barnum eventually donated the stuffed Jumbo to Tufts University, where it was displayed at P.T. Barnum Hall there for many years. The hide was destroyed in a fire in April 1975. Ashes from that fire, which are believed to contain the elephant’s remains, are kept in a 14-ounce Peter Pan Crunchy Peanut Butter jar in the office of the Tufts athletic director, while his taxidermied tail, removed during earlier renovations, resides in the holdings of the Tufts Digital Collections and Archives.
What is interesting to me is the death of the elephant. In one story the elephant tripped and died on its own tusk. Barnum the manipulator told a different tale, which although never collaborated has the elephant trying to save a dwarf elephant from harm. We can deceive by manipulating the truth. History buries facts and fiction and mixes them up all the time.
The shaman was faced with a dilemma. The British were on the hill and fortified. His village was in jeopardy. They were armed with guns and bullets and his villagers only had their spears. He needed a way to get them to attack the British. Going uphill was not the problem. The men of the village were warriors and in good shape. But against bullets?
He devised his plan. He had the women of the village make necklaces with a bead hanging in the middle. He then presented the necklaces to the men and blessed the amulets. He said that if the men truly believed they would be protected from the bullets. He then had the men dance around the fire and drink from the plant that made them exceedingly high.
Now high and protected the men of the village attacked. They went slow for they feared for their lives.
The British on the hill saw the villagers and figuring to scare them shot over their heads.
The bullets whizzed by and the villager men held the spears up and with the other hand grabbed their amulets. The amulets had obviously protected them. They gained speed and moved swifter. Then the British had no choose. They fired directly into the villagers and some bullets hit their mark.
But now the villagers figured that those hit had not believed and that is why they were hit.
Within minutes they took the hill. On return to the village they were in belief that the shaman was most powerful and it was he who had given them the ability to defeat a mighty enemy.