Happy accidents

These people hit rock bottom—and built empires there

Image: Chiara Guercio

They say every crisis hides an opportunity—and sometimes, a small mistake or a twist of fate can become the turning point in an otherwise ordinary life. From career shifts sparked by injury to small moments of curiosity that led to breakthroughs in science and culture, these 10 stories prove that even the most unexpected setbacks can lead to extraordinary outcomes.

Image: Keenan Barber

In 1941, Swiss engineer Georges de Mestral noticed burrs clinging to his clothes during a walk with his dog—an observation that sparked a revolutionary invention. Curious, he examined the seeds under a microscope and saw their tiny hooks, which eventually inspired the hook-and-loop fastener now known as Velcro.

He patented the invention in 1955, and it was later adopted by NASA and the military, ultimately earning de Mestral a fortune and a lasting legacy in textile innovation.

Image: Art Institute of Chicago

In the early 1700s, a German chemist accidentally created a deep blue pigment while trying to make red—but the mixture oxidized into a striking new hue. Impressed by its richness, he preserved the formula and named it Prussian Blue.

Artists quickly embraced the color, which became widely used in paintings and later in blueprints. Prussian Blue appears in famous works like Hokusai’s The Great Wave and Van Gogh’s The Night Café.

Image: Adrian Lange

In 1928, Alexander Fleming accidentally left a petri dish uncovered before leaving on vacation.

When he returned, he noticed mold had killed the bacteria around it—a chance observation that led to the groundbreaking discovery of penicillin.

Image: Ramona

Louis Braille was blinded at age 3 after an accident in his father's workshop. Sharp-minded and eager to learn, he impressed his teachers and was granted access to higher education.

By age 15, he had developed a tactile alphabet that became the Braille system. His method revolutionized accessibility for the blind and is still used worldwide today.

Image: Jonathan Borba

Ambroise Paré, a 16th-century battlefield surgeon, once ran out of boiling oil used to cauterize wounds. In its place, he tried an old Roman remedy made of egg yolk, oil, and turpentine—and found it healed wounds far better than the traditional method.

He also introduced the use of ligatures (silk threads) to tie off blood vessels during amputations, helping shift surgery toward gentler, more effective treatments.

Image: Sergey Omelchenko

While studying pitchblende, a uranium-rich ore, Marie Curie accidentally discovered the strange, invisible energy we now know as radioactivity. Her groundbreaking research revealed that certain elements could emit powerful, previously unknown forms of energy.

Unaware of the risks, Curie handled radioactive materials without protection for years. Her prolonged exposure eventually led to leukemia, which caused her death in 1934.

Image: Wesley Hilario

While experimenting with the telegraph, Alexander Graham Bell accidentally heard sound vibrations transmitted through wires. This unexpected moment sparked his interest in sending the human voice electrically.

Building on this idea, Bell developed the first practical telephone, changing global communication forever.

Image: Gabriella Clare Marino

At 18, Frida Kahlo was severely injured in a bus accident, suffering multiple broken bones and internal injuries. The trauma left her in chronic pain and required long periods of bed rest.

During her recovery, she began painting from her hospital bed, using a special easel and mirror. What started as a form of therapy soon evolved into a powerful artistic voice, launching her legendary career.

Image: Jon Vio

In 1935, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry crashed in the Libyan desert while flying a mail route. He and his mechanic nearly died of dehydration before being rescued by Bedouins after several days.

The harrowing experience left a lasting impact on Saint-Exupéry, who later wrote The Little Prince. The book became one of the most translated and cherished works in literary history.

Image: Brett Jordan

While working near an active radar set, Raytheon engineer Percy Spencer noticed a candy bar had melted in his pocket. Intrigued, he directed the microwaves at some popcorn—and watched it pop.

That curious accident led to the invention of the microwave oven, a now-essential household appliance born entirely by chance.

The etymology of power: 10 colorful terms for important people

When we look at how English speakers describe the people in charge, we find a colorful catalog of metaphors. Instead of using formal titles like "master" or "director", we have spent centuries inventing funny nicknames to describe the folks at the top. Many of these terms have fascinating histories. Some started on the stage, others in bowling alleys, and some in the courts of the 18th century. Here are 10 of the most famous nicknames used to refer to important people, along with the surprising stories of how they entered our vocabulary.

If you are the "top banana", you are the undisputed leader of an organization. The expression comes straight from the world of American burlesque and vaudeville of the early 20th century.

Comedy acts of the era often featured three performers. The lead comedian, the one who got the spotlight and the biggest laughs, was called the "top banana". The supporting comics were relegated to "second banana" and "third banana". Why a banana? The lead comic’s routine often involved a prop, and in many popular acts, a literal banana was handed over as a reward after a successful punch line.

Today, we associate "kingpin" with the leader of a cartel or a criminal enterprise. However, its origins are associated with sports. The term comes from the game of ninepins (an ancestor of modern bowling), dating back to the early 1800s.

The "kingpin" was the tallest, most central pin in the setup. If you managed to hit the kingpin right, it would knock down all the other pins, securing a perfect game. Because this single pin controlled the fate of all the others, the word naturally entered the English language to describe any highly influential person whose actions control an entire group.

We use "boss" so casually today that it hardly feels like slang, but its rise in American English was actually an act of political rebellion. "Boss" comes from the Dutch word baas, meaning "master".

In the 17th and 18th centuries, Dutch colonists settled in what is now New York. English-speaking workers adopted the word baas as a deliberate alternative to the traditional "master". In a young, democratic America, "master" felt far too servile and feudal. "Boss" allowed workers to acknowledge who was in charge without compromising their personal sense of pride.

When you want to describe the absolute highest authority in a hierarchy, you might call them the "big enchilada". While the culinary term "enchilada" is centuries old, using it to describe a powerful person is a mid-20th-century American political phenomenon.

The term entered the national consciousness during the 1973 Watergate scandal. In secretly recorded White House tapes, John Ehrlichman, an advisor to President Richard Nixon, was heard referring to former Attorney General John Mitchell as "the big enchilada". He meant that Mitchell was the key player, the main target, and the man who held all the cards. The phrase caught on instantly in the media and remained a popular way to describe a dominant leader.

If someone is referred to as the "Big Kahuna", they are the ultimate boss or the expert whose opinion carries the most weight. This term is borrowed directly from the Hawaiian language.

In traditional Hawaiian culture, a kahuna is a respected expert, priest, healer, or master craftsman. When Hawaii became a global surfing destination in the mid-20th century, the term drifted into surf slang. Legendary surfer Duke Kahanamoku was often called the "Big Kahuna". By the late 1950s and 60s, Hollywood surf movies exported "Big Kahuna" to the mainland, where it lost its spiritual meaning and became a nickname for any big boss.

In the world of politics and media, calling someone "Bigfoot" has absolutely nothing to do with searching for a mythical creature in the Pacific Northwest. This modern slang originated in American journalism of the late 1970s.

When a high-profile news story breaks in a small town, national news networks will often fly in their most famous journalists. These prominent reporters trump over the local journalists who had been covering the story first, taking over the prime airtime and top billing. Because they leave a huge footprint wherever they go, frustrated local reporters began calling these elite correspondents "Bigfoots".

Calling someone a "bigwig" is one of our oldest insults for a person who thinks they are incredibly important, and it has roots in historical fashion. The expression dates back to the 17th and 18th centuries, when powdered wigs (periwigs) were the prime style for wealthy people.

Wigs were incredibly expensive to buy and maintain. Naturally, the wealthier and more powerful a person was, the larger and more elaborate their wig would be. Bishops, judges, and aristocrats wore towering mounds of powdered hair on their heads. So, the working-class began referring to these elites as "bigwigs". Although the fashion died out, the insult survived.

To be a "kingfish" is to be an influential, often charismatic leader who dominates a local area or organization. Though the name originally refers to a predatory marine fish, it became a political nickname in the 1930s.

The term is tied to Huey P. Long, the powerful and controversial Governor and Senator of Louisiana. Long adopted the nickname "The Kingfish" himself, taking it from a character on the popular radio show Amos 'n' Andy. Long used the moniker to project a heroic persona to his supporters, becoming a clever tool of political branding.

A "big shot" is someone wealthy and influential. This expression became popular in the United States during the Prohibition era of the 1920s.

The term "big shot" was associated with gang violence. Mobsters who controlled the illegal alcohol trade were the "big shots", meaning they were the ones calling the shots and firing the weapons. Over time, the violent side of the term softened, leaving us with a playful way to describe anyone who holds a ton of influence.

If you are the "top dog", you are the winner, the leader. This idiom can be traced back to 19th-century sports.

In competitive arenas, the competitor that ended up on top of their opponent at the end of a match was crowned the "top dog". The loser, then, was the "underdog". The contrast between these two roles resonated so deeply with the public that both terms migrated into the English language to describe the winners and losers of life, business, and politics.