Mysteries and Histories

In 1928, Scottish scientist Alexander Fleming noticed something strange in a contaminated Petri dish at his London laboratory: bacteria would not grow around a patch of mould. The substance responsible, which he named penicillin, would transform medicine, but discovering it was only the beginning.More than a decade later, Howard Florey, Ernst Chain, and their Oxford colleagues, including Norman Heatley, turned Fleming’s observation into a treatment that could save lives. During the Second World War, British and American researchers and manufacturers overcame enormous production challenges to make the drug widely available.Penicillin helped turn once-deadly bacterial infections into treatable illnesses, and Fleming, Florey, and Chain shared the 1945 Nobel Prize. Behind the famous story of an accidental discovery was a much bigger achievement: years of teamwork that brought a laboratory breakthrough to patients around the world.

On June 8, 1924, British climbers George Mallory and Andrew “Sandy” Irvine disappeared into the clouds high on Mount Everest while attempting to become the first people to reach its summit. Neither returned, leaving a question that has haunted mountaineering for a century: did they reach the top before they died?Mallory’s body was discovered in 1999, but it did not settle the mystery. Then, in September 2024, a National Geographic team found a boot containing a foot and a sock labelled “A.C. Irvine”, remains believed to belong to his missing climbing partner.Their camera, which might hold photographs of a successful ascent, remains missing. The discoveries have brought the climbers’ final journey into sharper focus, but whether Mallory and Irvine conquered Everest remains unanswered.

In January 1968, 18-year-old Iowa State freshman Sheila Jean Collins was trying to get home to Evanston, Illinois, for the weekend. When her boyfriend could not drive her, she accepted a ride from someone who had found her name on the university’s ride board, without ever learning the driver’s name.Sheila was last seen waiting with her suitcase in Ames on January 26. Two days later, her body was found in a rural ditch near Colo, Iowa. She had been strangled with a nylon cord, and investigators believed she was killed elsewhere before being left there.Her murder remained unsolved for 55 years. No arrest has been made, and the person who offered Sheila that final ride has never been publicly identified.

On Christmas Eve 2010, Lori Erica Ruff died by suicide outside her in-laws’ home in Texas. Afterward, her family found a box of documents revealing that “Lori” had built her life on the identity of a child who had died years earlier. Even her husband had not known her real name.Investigators traced the paperwork back to 1988, when she obtained identification as Becky Sue Turner, then legally changed that name to Lori Erica Kennedy. She later married and had a daughter, but the documents offered no clear path to the person she had been before.In 2016, genealogist Colleen Fitzpatrick used DNA and family records to identify her as Kimberly McLean, who had left her Pennsylvania home at 18. Her mother’s DNA confirmed the match. Kimberly’s identity was finally known; why she chose to erase her past so completely remains uncertain.

In 2002, a quiet Ohio man named Joseph Newton Chandler III died by suicide in his Eastlake apartment. He left behind $82,000, but no family, no clear past, and a name that turned out to belong to an eight-year-old boy killed in a Texas car crash in 1945.For years, authorities had no idea who the adult “Chandler” really was. He had acquired the dead child’s identity in 1978 and lived under it for decades, carefully cutting himself off from people and paperwork.In 2018, genetic genealogy finally identified him as Robert Ivan Nichols: a World War II veteran and Purple Heart recipient from Indiana who had once had a wife and three children, then vanished from their lives in the 1960s.The name was solved, but the real mystery remains: why did Nichols abandon his family, steal a dead child’s identity, and spend the rest of his life hiding? No definitive answer has ever emerged.

In 1887, reporter Nellie Bly faked mental illness to be committed to New York City’s Women’s Lunatic Asylum on Blackwell’s Island. For ten days, she witnessed cold baths, rotten food, beatings, neglect, and women held there despite showing no sign of mental illness.Her exposé, Ten Days in a Mad-House, shocked the public and helped secure increased funding and reforms for the institution. More broadly, it changed journalism: Bly proved that going undercover could expose abuses that officials preferred to keep hidden.Two years later, she became a global celebrity by travelling around the world alone in 72 days, 6 hours, and 11 minutes, beating Jules Verne’s fictional 80-day journey. But it was her time inside the asylum that made Nellie Bly a pioneer of investigative reporting.

In 1796, English doctor Edward Jenner noticed a local belief that milkmaids who caught cowpox, a usually mild disease, seemed protected from smallpox, one of history’s deadliest infections. He tested the idea by taking material from a cowpox sore on milkmaid Sarah Nelmes’s hand and inoculating eight-year-old James Phipps.James became mildly ill, recovered, and later did not develop smallpox when Jenner tested whether the cowpox exposure protected him. The experiment was ethically unacceptable by modern standards, but it demonstrated the principle behind vaccination: safely training the immune system to recognize a dangerous disease.Jenner did not invent the broader idea of inoculation, earlier practices such as variolation already existed but his cowpox-based method was far safer and became the first successful vaccine. The word “vaccine” itself comes from vacca, Latin for cow.Almost two centuries later, worldwide vaccination campaigns led the World Health Organization to declare smallpox eradicated in 1980, the only human disease ever eradicated globally.

For more than 200 years, treasure hunters have dug into a small island off Nova Scotia, chasing a story about a mysterious shaft called the Money Pit. Legend says that in 1795, a teenager noticed a strange depression in the ground and found layers of wooden platforms as he dug, before seawater repeatedly flooded every attempt to reach whatever lay below.The theories became bigger with every failed excavation: pirate treasure, Captain Kidd’s gold, Templar relics, Shakespeare’s manuscripts, even the Ark of the Covenant. Searchers have found old wood, coconut fibre, tools, and fragments of material but never a confirmed treasure cache.The truth may be less romantic. Some historians and geologists argue the original “Money Pit” story lacks reliable contemporary documentation and that the feature may have been a natural sinkhole, with later digging creating much of the mystery itself.So Oak Island remains unsolved, not because anyone has proved a spectacular treasure exists, but because nobody has proved exactly what early visitors did there, or why the legend has survived for more than two centuries.