It’s been nearly a year since I began writing Talking to America. I’ve been gratified by all those who have subscribed and by the many heartening comments I’ve received. I started out with the intention of making history interesting, and of exploring the stories of people and events that give testimony to the richness of our past.
As we make our stealthy getaway from 2023, I’m going to review a few of the essays for the benefit of those who signed up later and may have missed them, and for those who might want to reread a favorite story. Just a reminder: if you go to the Substack website (double click on the title within the email) or the Substack app, you can access any of the previous posts directly.
For purposes of this post, you can click on any of the underlined words to go directly to the article mentioned.
Although my subject matter probes many corners of American history, connections are inevitable and can be revealing. For example, I wrote about the poignant good-byes of both George Washington and Lafayette. Readers also caught a glimpse of the father of our country observing the first man ever to fly in America.
Another connection linked the intrepid reporter Nellie Bly, who raced around the world to beat a fictional record, with the renowned pugilist John L. Sullivan. Before his marathon 1889 bout with Jake Kilrain, the champion sat for an interview with Bly, the first female reporter to delve into the masculine world of prize fighting. Describing her encounter, Nellie recorded this:
“Feel my arm,” he said, with a bright smile, as he doubled it up. I tried to feel the muscle, but it was like a rock. With both my hands, I tried to span it, but I couldn’t. Meanwhile, the great fellow sat there watching me with a most boyish expression of amusement.
Two essays dealt with daredevils. Sam Patch jumped over the Rochester High Falls twice in 1829, the second time fatally. In 1901, Annie Edson Taylor became the first person to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel. She lived to tell about it.
I wrote about juggling and craft, based on a puzzling encounter with Lottie Brunn, the greatest woman juggler of all time. Afterward, I heard from her son, Michael Chirrick, who has had a long and successful career as a juggler himself. He explained that his mother, once a headliner with Ringling Brothers, had appeared at the one-ring tent circus where I saw her late in her career as a favor to a friend.
I wrote essays about two pioneering women, each known for her eccentric dress as well as for her achievements. Jemima Wilkinson started a religion in the wilderness; Dr. Mary Walker was the only woman awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.
I’ve written most often about people. Some, like Walter Cronkite and Elvis Presley, are familiar; others, like bicycle champion Major Taylor, ambulance innovator Julian Wise, and social reformer Jane Addams, deserve to be better known.
A few of the articles explore the sheer happenstance of history. How, for example, did a World War II bombardment of Bari, Italy, steer science toward chemotherapy? And how did a quack doctor, who transplanted goat glands into humans, helped kick-start the country music business?
There’s much more to read, and more coming. I hope each essay provides an “I-didn’t-know-that” moment, perhaps a bit of inspiration, or a glimpse of the past that suggests hope for the future.
You can help. Comments and likes give the essays more exposure and provide valuable feedback. Recommend the series to your friends. Share on social media. Send a link to your mailing list.
And if you haven’t already gotten your copy of GOD SAVE BENEDICT ARNOLD, order one today. The Wall Street Journal said the book “propels readers into the brutal action with vigorous prose and sentences that are often short and pugnacious—much like Arnold himself . . .”
Best wishes to all for a healthy and prosperous 2024 — should be an interesting year!
Your stories are always a great read Jack, look forward to reading more in 2024.
Looking forward to learning more with you in 2024. I enjoyed evrey article this year and learned about many people. Now, if only I had a memory, I could recount your many stories to others. They will have to read them for themselves. You always amaze and amuse.
Thank you.