Amazing historical factoids

[Magical Realist]

"In his seventies, Mark Twain made a deliberate choice to wear white suits instead of the dark clothing expected of Victorian men. He had lived through bankruptcy and the deaths of his son Langdon, daughter Susy and his wife Olivia, and he was tired of what he saw as gloomy, heavy “mourning” clothes.

He said he preferred the lighter colors worn by women at the opera, and he liked how the white suit made him instantly visible in any room or photograph. It became a practical uniform, a bit of quiet rebellion, and a simple way to control how the world saw him. That is why, when most people picture Mark Twain today, they see not just the mustache, but the white suit too."

[Magical Realist]

In this season of frenetic shopping and consumerist madness, I think it is only appropriate that we pause for a moment to remember the true meaning of this most holy time:

"Saturnalia in mid-December honors the agricultural god, Saturn. As one of the most popular of Roman festivals, its influence spread across the Western world for hundreds of years.

Saturnalia derives its traditions from old farming rituals of mid-winter and the winter solstice. These rituals included offering sacrifices or gifts to the gods during the winter sowing season. During this holiday, work and business all stopped, schools were closed, and all norms were essentially thrown out the window.

Ancient Romans decorated their homes with wreaths and replaced their traditional clothes with bright, colorful togas. Even slaves during this time were completely relieved of any of their duties during Saturnalia. They joined everyone in participating in the festivities, often sat at the head of the table while their masters served them. The holiday was spent singing, eating, socializing, gambling, and gift giving. It's written in ancient Roman poetry as "the best of times."

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[Magical Realist]

"In 1951, Ernest Hemingway's son, Gregory, was arrested at a Los Angeles movie theater.
According to Ernest, Gregory was "taking a mind-stimulating drug before such things were fashionable." In actuality, Gregory had been trying to live as a woman and was caught trying to use the ladies' bathroom.

After Gregory's mother, Pauline, bailed him out of jail that night, Ernest called to harangue her for their son's behavior and lifestyle. Pauline dropped dead that same night, and Ernest always blamed Gregory for her death, telling him: "You killed your mother with that stunt in L.A."

In the following years, Gregory struggled with guilt, depression, and alcoholism, all while trying to hide his gender dysphoria and live peacefully as a transgender woman. He even went to medical school to find the true reason behind his mother's death in order to absolve himself. He believed his father was to blame, and wrote to him in 1959 saying that "It wasn't me who killed her, you bastard, you did." Ernest Hemingway killed himself two years later."

[Magical Realist]

"Simona Kossak had everything most people dream of: a doctorate, a prestigious family, a future in Warsaw. She could have lived comfortably, safely, studying nature from a desk.

Instead, in 1975, she walked away. One bag, one wooden cabin, deep in Białowieża Forest—the last primeval wilderness in Europe. No electricity, no running water, no neighbors. Just trees older than history, wolves howling at night, bison roaming free. Most people wouldn’t survive a week. Simona stayed thirty years.

And she wasn’t alone.

Żabka, a lynx she raised from an orphaned cub, curled up beside her at night like a rolling thunderstorm. A wild boar followed her through the forest, grunting when she spoke. And Korasek, a clever, chaotic crow, stole shiny things from tourists to give her as gifts, cawing commentary from her shoulder.

Locals whispered she was a witch. Animals followed her, birds landed in her palm, deer approached without fear. But she wasn’t casting spells. She was listening.

While most people tramped through nature asserting themselves, Simona moved quietly, learned patiently, let the forest teach her. She didn’t just study animals—she lived among them, proving they had personalities, emotions, complex social lives. Her work reshaped how scientists understood wildlife.

But her greatest fight wasn’t in journals—it was against people. Logging companies, developers, bureaucrats—they all wanted to tear the forest apart. Roads, managed plots, profits. Simona fought them with letters, lawsuits, interviews, even standing in front of bulldozers. She made powerful enemies. She didn’t care.

“This forest has survived ten thousand years,” she said. “Who are we to end it on our watch?”

Journalists came from across Europe. Documentaries were made. Slowly, the tide turned. Public opinion shifted, UNESCO stepped in, and much of Białowieża gained protection. The trees she loved were saved.

Simona stayed in that cabin until 2007, when illness finally forced her to the city. She died at 71. But the forest still stands. Her footsteps are still there. Tourists walk where she walked with Żabka. Bison graze in the meadows she fought to protect. And somewhere, maybe, a crow steals something shiny, just like Korasek used to.

She proved something the world forgets too easily: you don’t have to choose between science and intuition, civilization and wilderness, being human and being part of nature. Real understanding comes from respect, from attention, from listening.

They called her a witch because she spoke to animals.
She called herself a scientist because she listened.
She didn’t run from civilization—she defended something far more valuable.
And because of her, that forest still breathes."

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