Here’s a pop quiz for a rainy Thanksgiving morning: how many Catholics have received a major-party nomination for president? The question is inspired by the subject of today’s #stampoftheday, a 1945 stamp, issued on November 26, 1945, honoring Al Smith, the “happy warrior” who was the Democratic nominee in 1928 when Herbert Hoover won the
Al Smith’s Little, Nameless, Unremembered Acts of Kindness Read More »
Seemingly odd juxtapositions of wealth and poverty as well as power and powerlessness are offered by the two stamps that collectively are today’s #stampoftheday. While there is much truth to those contrasts, it also turns out that the stamps, which also are separated by more than three decades, are more connected than they appear. On
Sweetness and Light and Andrew Carnegie Read More »
Another day, another obscure 19th century president. But, thankfully, Zachary Taylor, who may have died from eating too many cherries, was born on November 24, 1784 (thankfully, because I couldn’t find another stamp in my late father’s collection that is plausibly connected to today). Taylor, who served for only 16 months before unexpectedly dying in
Did President Zachary Taylor Die from Eating Too Many Cherries? Read More »
As the nation lurches towards a presidential transition, it seems oddly appropriate that today’s #stampoftheday pictures a one-term, 19th century president, who, one of his obituaries contended, “possessed…none of the attributes of greatness.” The president in question is Franklin Pierce, who was born on November 23, 1804 and served for one term, from 1853 to
Franklin Pierce “Possessed None of the Attributes of Greatness” Read More »
“Roshi’s Laundromat Blues,” the last short story I wrote in the spring of 1980, had a simple premise. What if you were at a laundromat, waiting for your clothes to finish the wash cycle, when you heard that John F. Kennedy had been shot and was dead? The idea was at this emotional moment, Roshi,
Roshi Was At the Laundromat When Kennedy Was Shot Read More »
Sometime in the mid-1960s, my mother and I drove over the then-new Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, which opened on November 21, 1964. As we crossed over “the Narrows,” which separate Brooklyn from Staten Island, I vaguely recall my mother telling me that the crossing was the world’s longest suspension bridge, which impressed me. And as we descended
My Mother Drove Me Over the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge Read More »
On November 19, 1863, Edward Everett, one of America’s great 19th century orators, gave a more than two-hour speech at the ceremony dedicating a new cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. When he was done, President Abraham Lincoln, who had been asked by the event’s organizers to give “a few appropriate remarks,” stood up to speak. According
Lincoln Understood Freedom Read More »
Sometime in the mid-1920s, a Washington socialite seated next to the President Calvin Coolidge, supposedly turned to the famously taciturn president and said, “I made a bet today that I could get more than two words out of you.” Coolidge, whose nickname was “Silent Cal,” allegedly replied, “You lose.” While it doesn’t appear that this
Calvin Coolidge Kept His Ego In Check Read More »
Around the time she turned 60, writer Nina Shengold decided to walk the path around New York’s Ashokan Reservoir every day for a year. Last spring, she published “Reservoir Year,” an edited account of the journals she wrote after each walk. I heard about the book this summer when, thanks to Facebook, I reconnected with
George Washington Meet Nina Shengold Read More »
The third time (on a stamp) was not a charm for William Tecumseh Sherman, who, on November 15, 1864, sent his troops out from Atlanta on their famous (or infamous) March to the Sea. Issued in February 1937, the 3-cent stamp, which was part of a 10-stamp series honoring the US Army and Navy, pictured
The South Finally Beats William Tecumseh Sherman Read More »