Hidden out of the public's sight, tucked away in the deepest of archives, lie stacks of correspondence that changed the world (or at least tried). Here are a few of our favorites.

The Last Days of Charlotte Braun

In November 1954, Peanuts creator Charles Schulz debuted Charlotte Braun, a pushy air-raid-siren version of Charlie Brown who shouts EVERYTHING SHE SAYS.

The character arrived in the fourth year of the strip's 50-year run, just as Peanuts was becoming a hit. Schulz was experimenting with his medium, even depicting adults in one strip -an oddity in its knee-high view of the world, and "something I never should have done," he admitted.

Braun was another failed experiment, making just 10 appearances over two months. After receiving a letter from fan Elizabeth Swaim complaining about the obnoxious character, Schulz got the hint. His playful response:

I am taking your suggestion regarding Charlotte Braun and will eventually discard her. If she appears anymore it will be in strips that were already completed before I got your letter or because someone writes in saying that they like her. Remember, however, that you and your friends will have the death of an innocent child on your conscience. Are you prepared to accept such responsibility?

Schulz, who once called Peanuts "the cruelest strip going," ended his letter with a hand-drawn flourish: an ax in the head of Charlotte Braun!

Annie Oakley Tried to Enlist

Fervor around the impending Spanish-American War was running high in April 1899- but three weeks before the war broke out, famed sharpshooter Annie Oakley took her patriotism further than most. Bored from 13 years of touring with Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show, where she routinely wowed crowds by shooting holes in playing cards tossed in the air, the 37-year-old Oakley wrote President McKinley about putting her talents to better use:

I for one feel confident that your good judgment will carry America safely through without war. But in case of such an event I am ready to place a company of fifty lady sharpshooters at your disposal. Every one of them will be an American and as they will furnish their own arms and ammunition will be little if any expense to the government.

But Oakley and her recruits never went to war, and in fact, there's no record of a response from McKinley -although he might have smelled a publicity stunt. After all, the grandstanding newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst had just offered McKinley an entire cavalry regiment -which would be akin to Rupert Murdoch whipping up a tank battalion.

Oakley's interest in defending her nation was sincere, however. Over the course of her career, she taught thousands of women how to shoot. And two decades later, still amazing crowds with her shooting feats, she wired Secretary of War Newton Baker with a similar proposition, this time for World War I: "I can guarantee a regiment of women for home protection every one of whom can and will shoot if necessary." Baker didn't take Oakley up on her offer, either