Recognized at last — unfortunately, after the funeral.

What does it take for a toll collector who painted tigers in his off-hours to end up enthroned on a packing crate at a banquet thrown by Picasso?

For ten years, a Chicago dishwasher kept a secret diary grading the local weatherman against reality.

For decades scholars thought a Swiss novelist's tiny notebooks were a secret code written from inside an asylum.

A deaf arithmetic teacher in a Kaluga log cabin derived the rocket equation between marking schoolboys' sums, and kept a trapdoor in his ceiling his family called the door to outer space.

What does an 82-year-old who just solved the longitude problem do for an encore?

What kind of man commissions an altarpiece of himself praying, then hangs it in the room where he prays?

What happens when colonists canonize a dead chief they never asked, dress up in bucktail hats, and dance "in the style of those people" while actual Native delegations watch from the docks?

What kind of person gets laughed out of the British scientific establishment and leaves giggling?

What if every geometry proof you ever learned was actually a woman's homework assignment that outlasted most civilizations?

What happens when you raise a poet's daughter on pure mathematics and ban every verse from the house?

A grizzly attack left him with a silver-dollar-sized hole in his skull — and that bear ended up on the California state flag.

The most famous piano dedication in history was a last-minute substitution, named by a man who never met her, for a woman who was busy doing other things.