Plaques

Stones speckled along Harris Avenue reveal hidden nuggets of the past.

A monument to the two U.S. officers killed by North Korean troops while trying to trim a poplar tree.

The South's nickname was supposedly born at a former bank in New Orleans' French Quarter.

Iron Age runes and ruins hide in plain sight along this Portuguese beach.

Memorials at a Florence railway station remember the citizens who were deported from Italy and sent to extermination camps.

Iconic red and white plaques show the creative names invented to navigate the city streets.

Most of Britain's gold reserve was secretly stashed here after the start of World War II.

A simple plaque on the facade is the only reminder that the treaty ending the American Revolution was signed inside.

The first high-tech company in the valley that actually worked with silicon devices.

The home of the artist credited with introducing the tomato to the American diet.

The World Wide Web was created in this nondescript corridor at CERN.

A memorial to the first person killed by a motor vehicle in the Western Hemisphere.

Legend has it the commander of the defenders drew a fateful line in the dirt with his sword just before the final battle.

A mysterious plaque to the even more mysterious "Fr. Pat Noise," killed in "suspicious circumstances."

A tiny church remembers the Polish cavalrymen who charged their way into a Napoleonic victory.

The site where Michigan launched its first rocket into space lies abandoned in the dense woods along Lake Superior.

Hidden in a hotel parking lot is a strange historical plaque erected by an obscure fraternal society.

A plaque immortalizes the spot where the early American spy said his famous last words: "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."