In the previous post, I mentioned a lesson learned in my graduate program: history does not repeat, it echoes, and historians are responsible for those echoes. We choose how to control them. We emphasize events or omit words in the name of editing, of clarity, or willful distortion. We have to pick what to preserve because we can’t … More The Letters.
As a child, I loved the Fourth of July. It meant loading the blue Plymouth Voyager with beach balls, lawn chairs, sunblock and sand pails, and one of a progression of lovable golden retrievers who would, inevitably, drool all over the back window. Driving four hours (eternity!) to Manchester-By-The-Sea, to be greeted by Uncle Linc’s gruff, … More The Legacy of July 5.