When the coal mines of Vulcan, W.Va., gave out in the early 1960s, the only legal route by which to enter and exit the town was a swinging bridge too narrow to accommodate a vehicle. The 200 remaining residents pleaded with the state to repair the bridge, but no action was taken, and in 1975 the bridge collapsed, leaving the residents hemmed in between a river to the west and impassable mountains to the east, reduced to using a hazardous gravel road owned by the Norfolk and Western Railway. Still state officials were reluctant to rebuild the bridge, noting the limited traffic it would carry and the competing priorities in the state.

So the residents of Vulcan wrote to the Soviet embassy in Washington, requesting foreign aid. Soviet journalist Iona Andronov arrived on Dec. 17, 1977, to survey the problem. “He was sincere,” said resident John Robinette. “The Russians said they would keep an eye on the bridge and see if it were built. If not, they would.”

Within an hour the state announced it would do the work, and today a one-lane bridge connects Vulcan to the outside world. “Our government was afraid the Russians would build the bridge,” Robinette said. “They were embarrassed into it, and nothing will convince me otherwise.”

(Thanks, Paul.)

In London the Standard newspaper, now defunct, had an effective method of ensuring it got news before its rivals. Every messenger bringing material or news reports to the Standard was given, on arrival, a blue ticket if it was a Government or official report and a red ticket for anything else. The tickets (a quart of beer for a blue ticket, a pint of beer for a red one) could only be redeemed at The Black Dog pub next door. This meant the Standard got its material first — and their rivals much later — since the messengers would always redeem their tickets before going on.

— N.T.P. Murphy, A Wodehouse Handbook, 2013

“Reynolds said that ‘[Samuel] Johnson always practised on every occasion the rule of speaking his best, whether the person to whom he addressed himself was or was not capable of comprehending him. ‘If,’ says he, ‘I am understood, my labour is not lost. If it is above their comprehension, there is some gratification, though it is the admiration of ignorance;’ and he said those were the most sincere admirers; and quoted Baxter, who made a rule never to preach a sermon without saying something which he knew was beyond the comprehension of his audience, in order to inspire their admiration.'” — James Boswell, Life of Samuel Johnson, 1791

But:

“To write well, express yourself like the common people, but think like a wise man.” – Aristotle