The assassination attempt on Teddy Roosevelt’s life had been made at about 8 PM, as he got into an open air car outside his hotel, waving his hat to the crowd. Just then, the darkness was lit up by a flash from a .38 Colt revolver – the former president had been shot. An aide grappled with the would-be assassin and prevented him from firing another shot, before the crowd joined in.
The culprit, a deranged Bavarian immigrant named John Flammang Schrank, would have been lynched on the spot if Roosevelt had not intervened. “Don’t hurt him. Bring him here. I want to see him“, Roosevelt told the crowd. He then asked Schrank “What did you do it for?” When Schrank stayed mum, TR told the crowd to turn him over to the police.
After getting shot, Teddy Roosevelt reached inside his shirt and felt around, until he encountered a dime-sized hole. He turned to an aide and remarked: “He pinked me “. TR then coughed into his hand a few times, and seeing no blood, determined that his lung had not been pierced. He directed that he be driven to the Milwaukee Auditorium, to address the waiting audience.
The hefty speech, squeezed into his jacket pocket, had combined with a glass case and a dense overcoat to slow the bullet. It was later recovered lodged against his fourth rib, on a trajectory to his heart. As to the shooter, Schrank had dreamt that the assassinated president William McKinley had urged him to avenge him by killing his vice president and successor, TR. Schrank was deemed legally insane, and was institutionalized until his death in 1943.
12. History Would be Quite Different If the French Had Not Guillotined Louis XVI
The French Revolutionary Wars, and later the Napoleonic Wars, roiled Europe and much of the world from the 1790s until the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. They went into high gear after the revolutionary French government chopped off the head of their former king, Louis XVI. That scared the daylights out of the rest of Europe’s monarchs, and guaranteed their undying enmity towards revolutionary France. However, the unfortunate Louis had come quite close to avoiding that fate.
The years after the French Revolution had been tough on Louis XVI and his wife, Marie Antoinette. The absolute monarchy had been drastically weakened, and in October of 1789, the unwashed masses had burst into the Palace of Versailles, and forcibly transferred the royal family to Paris. Ever since, king and queen lived as virtual prisoners of their subjects. Feeling increasingly humiliated as they were forced to adjust to the role of constitutional monarchs, the royal couple decided to slip out of Paris. They almost got away.
King Louis XVI planned to flee with his family to the citadel of Montmedy, roughly 200 miles from Paris, where 10,000 men under a royalist general awaited. After regaining his freedom of action, Louis planned to launch a royalist counterrevolution, and restore France to pre-revolution days. On the night of June 20th, 1791, he and Marie Antoinette gathered their family, and prepared to slip out of the Tuileries Palace.
Behind, Louis left a document addressed to the National Assembly, letting them know his intent to roll the clock back to the royal concessions granted in 1789, before the Revolution began. In private correspondence, Marie Antoinette took a more reactionary line, declaring an intention to return to the old order, without any concessions at all.
To whisk away the French royal family and their close intimates, a Swedish Count Fersen had arranged for two fast light carriages, that could have made it to Montmedy relatively quickly. However, that would have entailed splitting the family, something the king and queen refused to contemplate. Instead, Louis and Marie Antoinette decided on a different ride at the last minute: a bigger and more conspicuous carriage drawn by six horses, that could accommodate everybody. It turned out to be a bad choice.
Around midnight on the night of June 20-21, 1791, Louis XVI, entered the carriage disguised as the valet of a Russian noblewoman – the governess of the royal children, who pretended to be their mother. Marie Antoinette pretended to be a governess, while her sister acted like a nurse. They made it out of Paris unchallenged, but soon rued their last minute carriage change. The heavy carriage was slow, and it had to stop for repairs when its traces broke. The royal couple’s disguises were also flimsy, and they were recognized by many along the route.
The French royal flight ended at the small town of Varennes, just thirty miles shy of safety. The local postmaster recognized Louis XVI from currency bearing his likeness, and the royal family were arrested and returned to Paris. It was a disaster. Before his flight, the revolutionaries had accepted Louis as a constitutional monarch, and took his assurances that he agreed with them at face value. His flight, coupled with the document he had left behind telling them what he really thought, changed their minds.
Until then, abolishing the monarchy and declaring a republic had been a fringe position advocated only by radicals. Now, it quickly gained in popularity. Finally, in December of 1792, Louis XVI was tried for treason, and convicted. He was guillotined a month later. His wife met a similar fate, and was guillotined in October, 1793.
8. The Little Known Functionary Who Saved the World
Not that many people know who Stanislav Petrov is. However, everybody alive today, anywhere in the world, irrespective of race, religion, creed, sex, sexual orientation, political persuasion, or any other distinction, owes him a huge debt of gratitude.
Acting on a gut instinct and placing a huge responsibility upon his own shoulders, Petrov saved the world from a full blown nuclear holocaust. In short, if not for Petrov, most of us would not be alive today, and the relative few still living would be struggling for survival in some barbarous and radioactive post apocalypse environment.
Early in the morning of September 26th, 1983, Soviet early warning systems detected an incoming missile strike from the US. Computer readouts confirmed the warning, and advised that several American missiles had been launched. Soviet protocol for such a scenario called for an immediate response by launching their own nukes in retaliation.
Stanislav Petrov was the duty officer in charge, and his job was to immediately alert the Soviet leadership to launch their own missiles. As he put it an interview decades later: “I had all the data [to suggest there was an ongoing missile attack]. If I had sent my report up the chain of command, nobody would have said a word against it“. You and I can read this today because, as seen below, Petrov had the moral courage to pursue a different course of action.
In September of 1983, Cold War tensions were particularly high. Soviet leaders feared American president Ronald Reagan. They also suspected that a massive NATO training exercise known as Able Archer, that was taking place at the time, might be a ruse, to conceal preparations for a surprise attack against the Warsaw Pact. In short, it was a bad time for nuclear attack warnings to go off in the USSR.
By nuclear warfare logic, the protocols of immediately launching your missiles upon receipt of a warning that the enemy had launched their nukes made sense on “use it or lose it” grounds. Given the short window – under half an hour – between missile launch detection and impact, the side that failed to immediately launch its own missiles risked having them destroyed in their silos. Stanislav Petrov’s job was to sound the alarm up the chain, which almost certainly would have led to a decision to launch Soviet missiles.
When he received an alarm that the US had launched nukes, Stanislav Petrov declined to alert his superiors. “The siren howled, but I just sat there for a few seconds, staring at the big, back-lit, red screen with the word ‘launch’ on it â¦ A minute later the siren went off again. The second missile was launched. Then the third, and the fourth, and the fifth. Computers changed their alerts from ‘launch’ to ‘missile strike’“.
Petrov trusted his instincts – and the advise of radar operators who told him they registered no missiles – and dismissed the alert as a false alarm. Instead, he called the duty officer at Red Army headquarters, and reported a systems malfunction. If he was wrong, mushroom clouds would have erupted all around the USSR within minutes. They did not. A few days later, Petrov received an official reprimand – not for what he did that night, but for mistakes in the logbook.
4. Martin Luther King Winged the âI Have a Dream’ Speech
Dr. Martin Luther King Junior’s best known quote, “I have a dream“, is one of the most famous lines ever delivered in an American speech. A highly memorable part of an inspiring oration delivered before the Lincoln Memorial during the March on Washington, August 28th, 1963, the phrase resonated and caught on.
Indeed, that phrase probably did as much or more than anything else in Dr. King’s remarkable life to cement his place in the popular imagination as an icon in the struggle for civil rights. Relatively few people know that it was an improvisation.
When Dr. King walked up to the podium that memorable August day in 1963, he intended to deliver a written and prepared speech – copies of which had already been distributed to the press – that contained no mention of dreaming. However, mid speech, while reading the seventh paragraph, King took a pause for breath. During that brief break, gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, a good friend of King, shouted “Tell âem about the dream!”
King responded by pushing the prepared text aside, shifting gears, and giving himself over to the spirit. What followed was one of the greatest examples of rhetorical dexterity, as King abandoned the prepared speech halfway through, and began riffing and improvising the second half, with the “I have a dream” refrain.
Sometimes in history, the margin between catastrophe and salvation is rather thin, and depends on little more than the vagaries and whims of fate. Few examples are more illustrative of that than the fate of the Japanese city of Kokura on August 9th, 1945. At 3:49AM that morning, the Bockscar, a B-29 piloted by US Air Force Major Charles W. Sweeney, took off from Tinian Island in the Pacific, headed for Kokura.
In the bomb bay was Fat Man, a plutonium atomic bomb, more powerful than the uranium core weapon that had devastated Hiroshima three days earlier. As late night turned to dawn and then morning, Kokura stirred and came to life, its inhabitants blissfully unaware that death was winging its way towards them. Weather observation planes reported clear skies over Kokura, and the Bockscar proceeded to a rendezvous point where it was supposed to link up with Big Stink, a B-29 tasked with filming the strike. Then fate intervened, and spared Kokura.
When Bockscar reached Kokura, Big Stink, with which it was scheduled to rendezvous, was nowhere to be seen. So Bockscar circled around, waiting for the film plane to show up. After 40 minutes of flying around, Major Sweeney gave up on Big Stink, and proceeded to Kokura. By then, however, clouds, plus smoke from a conventional bombing raid on a nearby city, had combined to obscure Kokura.
Over the next 50 minutes, Bockscar crisscrossed the skies above the target city, hoping for enough of a break in the cloud and smoke to drop its bomb. Below, the Kokurans went about their daily lives, innocently oblivious to the death circling above. After three failed bombing runs, Sweeney finally gave up, and flew at a new heading for his alternate target in case he was unable to bomb Kokura: Nagasaki. One city’s salvation proved to be another city’s doom.
Where Did We Find This Stuff? Some Sources and Further Reading