It's May 28, 1897, on a street in Leroy, New York.

23-year-old Pearl Wait knocks on a front door and then steps back.

He shifts impatiently, eager to make his first sale of the day.

A few weeks ago, Pearl stumbled onto a new food product by accident. Intending to make a cough syrup,

he mixed gelatin crystals with coloring and flavoring, but when he added hot water and then cooled it,

the mixture set into a soft and wobbly solid that tasted great.

Pearl called the sweet treat Jello, and he thought he would be a hit with housewives. But so far,

he's been wrong. He's been hawking at door-to-door all morning, and he's not had a single purchase.

The door opens, and the cries of a baby float out onto the street.

A tired-looking housewife and a stained apron stands in the doorway.

Pearl flashes her a smile and holds up a paper bag of jello crystals

and launches into his well-rehearsed sales pattern.

But the housewife just shakes her head.

She doesn't understand what he's selling, and she's not interested in finding out.

The door closes in Pearl's face before he's finished. So with a sigh, he steps off the

porch and moves on to the next house. He'll keep trying for now. But he knows if he can't make

Jello pay soon, he'll have to give up on the entire venture.

Even as Pearl Weight yet again fails to secure a sale, more than 200 miles away in Washington, D.C., a clerk at the U.S. Patent Office is picking up the next paper from a stack on his desk.

He scans it, barely pausing, then stamps it. And just like that, it's official.

Pearl Waite is now the owner of a trademark for Jello. But a stamp certificate won't sell a single

box. If this strange new dessert is going to become one of the most recognizable brands in America,

it will need far more than just the approval the Patent Office issued

...