For Memorial Day weekend, here are several vintage postcards from Ocean City, Maryland. https://t.co/tBxu146eO7 For Memorial Day weekend, here are several vintage postcards from Ocean City, Maryland. https://t.co/tBxu146eO7 — Streets of Washington (@StreetsOfDC) May 28, 2022
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 28, 2022
Today in History - May 27 https://t.co/lowcVtYhP2 On May 27, 1937, San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge was opened to the public for the first time for "Pedestrian Day," marking the start of the weeklong "Golden Gate Bridge Fiesta" held to celebrate its completion. Continue re…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 27, 2022
Learn more about our division's recent acquisition of 18th and 19th century tiny pocket globes in the Library's blog today—"Pocket Globes: The Whole World in Your Hand" here: https://t.co/0MGUupmThr https://t.co/hh67YP2I6o Learn more about our division's recent acquisition of…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 27, 2022
📷: Photo by Christopher Budny https://t.co/mpirHsUQzf 📷: Photo by Christopher Budny https://t.co/mpirHsUQzf — DC History Center (@DCHistory) May 27, 2022
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 27, 2022
Did you know the decorative wrought iron in the National Cathedral is handcrafted? Check out Stephanie Rufino’s article in the spring 2022 issue of Washington History to learn more about Samuel Yellin’s work and how it challenged machine-made products in the Great Depression…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 27, 2022
Hubble Captures Pair of Star-Forming Spirals via NASA https://t.co/PT9qNNOpw4 https://t.co/K8o5940NIf
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 27, 2022
Here are five stories that moved us this week, and the reasons why.
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Jason Fagone | HuffPost Highline | April 26th, 2017 | 7,799 words
I’m breaking from tradition here and highlighting a story that’s already been in one of these newsletters, and as a top pick no less. The circumstances demand it. On Tuesday, a gunman armed with two legally purchased AR-style assault rifles slaughtered 19 children and two teachers in a single classroom at an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas. As authorities worked to identify the victims, they asked parents to provide DNA samples. What’s unspoken in this detail is that the dead children were unrecognizable, or so mangled that it would have been an unimaginable cruelty to ask their parents to look at them. I can’t get this fact out of my mind, and it prompted me to re-read one of the best pieces of explanatory journalism in recent memory. Almost exactly five years ago, Jason Fagone spent time with the head of trauma surgery at Temple University Hospital in Philadelphia to understand the damage that bullets do to bodies. What Dr. Amy Goldberg had to say about the Sandy Hook massacre could be said today about the shooting in Uvalde: “As a country, we lost our teachable moment…. The fact that not a single one of those kids was able to be transported to a hospital, tells me that they were not just dead, but really really really really dead. Ten-year-old kids, riddled with bullets, dead as doornails.” America is a country where the mass murder of children is followed by mourning and forgetting, but never action: Congress hasn’t passed a single piece of gun control legislation since Sandy Hook. Until that changes, Goldberg’s comment will be relevant again in another community, at another school. It’s only a matter of time. —SD
Sukhada Tatke | Fifty Two | May 20th, 2022 | 4,280 words
Many scenes in Sukhada Tatke’s origin story about a bacterium found in the soil of Rapa Nui (Easter Island) feel plucked out of a movie: A ship full of Canadian scientists and doctors, landing on a mysterious island to collect samples from its inhabitants and the land. A Punjabi microbiologist who makes one last batch of this culture and stores it in his freezer after his lab deprioritizes his research. Then, some years later, fascinating experiments on mice confirming that this molecule — rapamycin — is a “life-saving wonder drug” that can save millions of lives, including organ transplant patients and people with cancer, diabetes, and neurodegenerative diseases. Tatke tells the remarkable story of this scientist, Surendra Nath Sehgal, and a medical discovery that has brought hope to so many. —CLR
Annie Sand | Guernica | May 23rd, 2022 | 2,821 words
Have you ever felt pain that stabs, throbs, or tingles? Have you ever felt mentally stuck or scattered? At Guernica, Annie Sand suggests that the common metaphors we use to describe physical and mental pain and illness are reductive, in that they fail to truly describe what it’s like to endure a body and/or mind causing us trouble. “When we use metaphor to conceal the unknowable, we make symbols out of human beings and allegory out of experience. We reduce our own pain to a precursor, a line item, a weather report…There is a cost to romanticization, to needing metaphor too much. Things — people — are easier to destroy when they’re an abstraction.” She suggests that to truly convey our individual experiences, we need to create metaphors of our own. “I wonder instead if the answer is not to abstain from metaphor, but rather, each time society tries to wheat-paste an ill-fitting metaphor over our lives, to offer one of our own…I collect them: latitude of many storms, thaws that come and go, clouds that squeeze. In a strange way, thinking about anxiety as weather lets me slip past society’s questions of why, and how long, and are you seeing someone about this? It sets me loose from the terrible calculus of justifying my minute-by-minute expenditures. It leaves those unanswered questions of cause and cure off the table.” —KS
Starr Davis | Catapult | May 25th, 2022 | 3,088 words
To say I loved this essay feels wrong, because I despise so many of the things that informed this essay. A road out of hardship, splashed with the oil of bureaucracy. Get-by mechanisms that are only “coping” in the loosest, most fleeting sense of the word. Relationships that confine or harm; a world that tells you in no uncertain terms that it simply does not value you. But the love at the center of this piece — the love Starr Davis’ mother had for her, and that she in turn has for her infant daughter, that glows ember-like despite buffeting headwinds — turns it from a litany of pain into a catalog of perseverance. “I have never met a happy mother,” she writes. “All the mothers I know are crazed, tired, or selfishly dragging themselves away from their children. My biggest fear is becoming those types of mothers. The types of women who forget their dreams or, worse, stop dreaming altogether.”—PR
Falene Nurse | Inverse | May 3rd 2022 | 2,767 words
Growing up, two of my favorite films were The Dark Crystal and The Labyrinth. The worlds they created enthralled me — filled with magic, weirdness, and ethereal beauty. Iconic to this day, they were pulled from the impressive imagination of Jim Henson, but, behind the scenes, there were other magicians at work — the puppeteers. In this profile of Wendy Froud, Falene Nurse explains how she sculpted The Dark Crystal’s puppet leads, Kira and Jen (her first job out of art school, no less). In The Labyrinth, she lent not just her talent to the production; her baby, Toby Froud, played the child kidnapped by the Goblin King (a.k.a David Bowie in leggings so tight they came with a free anatomy lesson). Froud was even part of the force that created a certain little Jedi, earning her the nickname “the Mother of Yoda.” Yet, after this gluttony of ’80s icons, Froud seemingly disappeared for many years; Nurse reveals how CGI gradually destroyed the art of the puppet and Froud’s disdain for the Hollywood scene. Then in 2019, some new magic happened: Netflix commissioned a prequel series, The Dark Crystal: The Age of Resistance. Froud was brought back on board to help recreate the elegance of that world — real puppets and all. And guess what? Baby Froud, now all grown-up and freed from David Bowie, worked with his parents on The Age of Resistance as the Design Supervisor. Now that’s a Hollywood ending. —CW
Quote of the Day: "A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 27, 2022
This movie guide map of Beverley Hills and Brentwood, CA from 1938 has a very paparazzi-esque feeling to it. Not only does it suggest some of the best places to run into movie stars, but it even lists the addresses of several celebrities. Check it out: https://t.co/0ehmAfY5I9 …
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 26, 2022
A circa 1907 postcard of the Korean Legation, located at 15 Logan Circle (then Iowa Circle). The house, built in 1877, had been acquired in 1889, but it was forcibly turned over to the Japanese in 1910 when they occupied Korea. In 2012 the Republic of Korea repurchased it. …
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 26, 2022
On May 26, 1864, President Lincoln signed an act creating the Territory of Montana. The discovery of gold increased settlement, which resulted in clashes with the Native Americans, the original inhabitants of the land. #otd https://t.co/eu05WmqYIG https://t.co/tLmjgfHVNE On M…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 26, 2022
Boeing Orbital Flight Test-2 Landing via NASA https://t.co/VcQoIlKjPC https://t.co/rzheLpQUCF
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 26, 2022
Today in History - May 26 https://t.co/vgqN1jOaQU On May 26, 1864, President Lincoln signed an enabling act creating the Territory of Montana. Continue reading. Click here to search Today in History for other historic moments.
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 26, 2022
When Rolling Stone published an updated list of the 500 greatest songs of all time last year, a tune that had not been included at all in the 2004 iteration of the list suddenly appeared in the top 10: “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac. Of course, anyone with a fleeting acquaintance with the overwrought and raucous history of Fleetwood Mac knows that “Dreams” is a Stevie Nicks song, part of a Rumours diptych with Lindsey Buckingham’s “Go Your Own Way” rehashing Stevie and Lindsey’s tortured breakup. Anointing Nicks’ “Dreams” as a classic anthem 45 years after its initial release, beloved by Gen Z TikTokers and nostalgic Boomers alike, speaks to the irrepressible essence of Stevie herself.
From Prince to Harry Styles, Tom Petty to Haim, Stevie Nicks links generations of musicians and fans, genres and trends. This reading list probes the source of her ongoing popularity through her refusal to be anything but herself, showing how Stevie’s instincts for survival and her silvery songwriting prowess allowed her to rise above her band’s many implosions and cement her own supernatural cultural presence. As we celebrate Stephanie Lynn Nicks’ 74th birthday on May 26, these essays explain why the ageless sound of her voice continues to haunt us.
My obsession with Stevie goes back 25 years to the concert film and album The Dance. It’s 1997, I’m watching VH1 in the air-conditioned staleness of late summer, and a woman with long blonde hair and skin like counter laminate is eviscerating the man onstage beside her with her eyes. She’s burning him so badly it’s a shock he’s still left standing to play his guitar and not zapped into a heap of ashes. I’m 14 and it’s all deeply romantic.
The woman is Stevie Nicks and the man is Lindsey Buckingham and I have no idea, in that wide-open summer between middle and high school, about the specific details of their long and tortured rock ’n’ roll love affair. All I know is that I love the song the woman sings — a sweetly curdled torch song called “Silver Springs” — and that some shit has gone down here.
Having witnessed that look, I wanted more of it poured right into me. Right that minute, I set about buying Fleetwood Mac’s back catalog in my cavernous local Best Buy, attempting to learn more about the band. Learning more was easy. As The Dance climbed the charts, VH1 provided plenty more Mac content for the masses, including one of the juiciest Behind the Music episodes of all time, in which Stevie is interviewed in front of a grand piano dripping with lit candles and sunflowers. The Dance was on constant televised rotation, as was the video for “Silver Springs,” as the song entered the U.S. music charts.
Before The Look, Fleetwood Mac was just old-people music to me. I was born after their soapy, druggy heyday in the ’70s; I knew a few of their ’80s hits from shopping mall soundtracks and I vaguely recalled their Boomer-gratifying 1993 performance at Bill Clinton’s inaugural ball (which is worth a watch these days for Al Gore’s awkward grooving and the unexplainable presence of Michael Jackson). But I didn’t know the first thing about the people in the band or their history when I was arrested by that look. What I know now is that The Look suggested worlds of love and hate far beyond what my teenaged self could imagine. I’ll follow you down till the sound of my voice will haunt you, Stevie sings, and here she is, haunting the hell out of him. Narratively, musically, it’s insanely gratifying. And only Stevie, with her decades of mixing art and life, performance and presence, could have delivered that look and that moment with such all-consuming intensity.
Iconic rock writer and later Billboard editor-in-chief Timothy White captures Nicks on the precipice of releasing her first solo album and attempting to balance her desires for control over her own career with her fealty to the band that brought her fame. In White’s lyrical prose Nicks appears in her witchiest, most mystical, Rhiannonesque state: She’s constantly having prophetic dreams (like the one that produced the ethereal cover of Bella Donna) and seeing ghosts. If that’s the state of mind it takes to write songs as good as “Edge of Seventeen” and produce vocals as fierce as her turn with Tom Petty on “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around,” who can fault her crystal visions?
Fresh from finishing Bella Donna, her first solo album, Stevie Nicks had met up with Fleetwood Mac at Le Château, the legendary studio-retreat where Elton John recorded Honky Château and where the Mac were laying down tracks for their next LP. Retiring for the night, Stevie turned off the light in her huge shadowy bedroom. Suddenly, she was startled by the sound of rapidly flapping wings in the blackness. The noise abruptly ceased. Then came a queer whir, and something brushed against her cheek. She froze. The light she had just extinguished sprang on and she was so petrified she could not scream, could not even speak. Ten minutes passed as she cowered in mute terror; then she stumbled down the damp hallway to the room of her secretary, Debbie Alsbury, who calmed and reassured her. She eventually made her way back to her bed and fell into a troubled sleep.
Many of us who love Stevie can trace our devotion back to a single moment: For Claire Jarvis, this is a famous photograph of Stevie and Lindsey taken during the Mirage tour. Appearing painfully entwined, the duo reenact their tempestuous love story during the Stevie song “Sister of the Moon.” Jarvis finds the performance during which this photograph was taken and close reads it to untangle how Nicks’ incantatory showmanship is necessarily entwined in her songs’ popularity. Live onstage, in her voice and her body, Stevie’s pain and sadness and beauty become manifest and transform, as Jarvis argues, into joy.
The sad, wide-set eyes, carelessly lined in brown. The white-blond tendrils slipping, elf-locks, before her ears while an Elnetted crest sweeps down her back. The slightly drooping lower-lip. The famously fragile, much-abused, nose. Stevie in all her guises has been with me my entire adult life. As a leotarded, gamine Garbo; caped in black velvet, plumed permage tamped down by a deep hood; or shoulder-padded, embellished, and feathered to the rooftops. Each iteration slots into the complex order of things known as Stevie Nicks; each era separable but contiguous, all routed through her mild witchery and intense American mysticism. Even the way she says “intense” marked itself on my mind; I hear her pronunciation each time I say the word, the mid-vowel rising, flattened by her nasal, Californian compression of the “e” into an “i:” “intinse.” Intinse song. Intinse silence.
In 1998, Saturday Night Live aired a one-off sketch of a cheap advertisement for a fake Mexican restaurant owned, inexplicably, by Stevie Nicks. Lucy Lawless, starring as Nicks, warbles Fleetwood Mac songs transformed into ads for burritos and enchiladas, and that’s about the extent of the plot of the sketch. Only the parodies are amazing and Lawless totally sells it and the two-and-a-half-minute bit has gained a cult following. The sketch is the perfect encapsulation of Nicks’ slightly kooky, always committed cultural presence, and it features all the trademark Stevie signifiers: the shawl, the twirling, the wind machine, the tambourine. So thank heavens Dan Devine produced this immaculately researched oral history of the Stevie Nicks Fajita Roundup, from its conception to its acknowledgement by Stevie herself, allowing people like me who love it to feel vindicated in our obsession.
“Stevie Nicks’ Fajita Roundup” wasn’t prescient. It didn’t put its finger on the pulse of 1998, or anticipate the ways in which pop culture would shift in the years to come. It didn’t point toward some broader universal truth, or teach us something about ourselves.
It just … started, and was weird for two and a half minutes. But it was really weird for those two and a half minutes, blithely absurd and blissfully silly in a way that cuts through the clutter and nestles itself into your gray matter. We can’t always explain why something sticks in our brains; sometimes, it just works. And for a lot of people, “Stevie Nicks’ Fajita Roundup”—something that probably shouldn’t have worked for anybody—just worked.
The story of the 1997 revival of “Silver Springs,” a song that had been essentially lost in the Fleetwood Mac canon since Nicks had written it for Rumours, provides fascinating insight into what made the band great and what doomed it to fracture. The now-classic was one of several chestnuts (“Dreams,” “Gold Dust Woman”) that Nicks penned for the smash record, but with two other songwriters in the band vying for album space, it was cut for time. Nicks had given the song’s royalties to her mother in the hopes that it would pay for her retirement; instead, “Silver Springs” was relegated to the B-side of “Go Your Own Way” and forgotten until it made the set list for 1997’s The Dance and became a Grammy-nominated chart hit. Spanos’ article traces the song’s tumultuous life and afterlives from a highway sign for Silver Spring, Maryland, to Stevie’s mom finally getting her long-delayed royalty check.
“I never thought that ‘Silver Springs’ would ever be performed onstage,” she reflected during a 1997 MTV interview. “My beautiful song just disappeared [20 years ago]. For it to come back around like this has really been special to me.”
What’s it like to grow old as a female rock star? Amy Kaufman’s profile explores Nicks as a 70-something chanteuse confronting a world that demands youthfulness at all costs. Stevie candidly discusses her fears of catching COVID, her 15 years on Weight Watchers (necessary, she assures the reader, to fit into her custom-made stagewear), and her disgust with her appearance in certain camera angles of the documentary concert film, 24 Karat Gold. Nicks’ honesty about her concern with her own image is refreshing, even as it makes us realize that Mick Jagger and Pete Townsend (or Lindsey Buckingham, for that matter) don’t face the same pressures to grow old without letting anyone catch you in the process. Speaking of Buckingham, Nicks addresses his departure from Fleetwood Mac in 2018, when he was fired (at Nicks’ insistence, he alleges). Stevie seems resigned to a life without Lindsey, but given the band’s history, a reunion seems inevitable. After all, the mystique of Stevie Nicks is impossible, for better or for worse, to separate from the talent and chaos of Lindsey Buckingham.
There’s melancholy in her voice when she discusses the split, which she describes as a “long time coming.” She was always hopeful that “things would get better” but found herself noticing she was increasingly sad with Fleetwood Mac and more at peace in the “good, creative happy world” with her solo band.
“I just felt like a dying flower all the time,” she says. “I stayed with him from 1968 until that night. It’s a long time. And I really could hear my parents — I could hear my mom saying, ‘Are you really gonna do this for the rest of your life?’ And I could hear my dad saying in his very pragmatic way — because my dad really liked Lindsey —‘I think it’s time for you and Lindsey to get a divorce.’ It’s a very unfortunate thing. It makes me very, very sad.”
Blogging wunderkind-turned-actress Tavi Gevinson has long been one of Nicks’ “goddaughters,” the young women adopted by the childless Nicks upon which she lavishes gifts like gold moon-shaped necklaces. Gevinson is an astute commentator on fame, having achieved it at such a young age, and her interview with Nicks does what many profiles fail to do: recognize the brilliance of Stevie’s songwriting. Digging into Nicks’ artistic process, the interview also acknowledges the centrality of her relationship with Christine McVie and their mutual pact never to be treated poorly by male musicians. Despite her infamous romantic entanglements with men, sisterhood has always been at the heart of Stevie’s artistic mission, whether she’s belting “Wild Heart” backstage with her coven of backup singers or serving High Rock Priestess vibes in Destiny’s Child “Bootylicious” video. Gevinson’s interview illuminates how Stevie’s intergenerational sorority continues to find new pledges.
In her music, loss is simultaneously earth-shattering and ordinary. Heartbreak is survivable, and possibly a key to self-knowledge. Many of her songs take place at night, in dreams or visions, “somewhere out in the back of your mind.” Her narrator frequently asks questions of herself and of some higher power, as if in constant conversation with her own intuition. When I said “Just be Stevie Nicks,” I was thinking of how her work had taught me to see such sensitivity as a source of strength. Nicks’s music is what you listen to when you need help listening to yourself.
***
Jill Spivey Caddell is a writer and teacher of U.S. literature, arts, and culture. She lives in the United Kingdom.
Editor: Krista Stevens
Copy Editor: Cheri Lucas Rowlands
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Quote of the Day: "Courage is fear holding on a minute longer." - George S. Patton
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 26, 2022
Matchbook cover from the Old Williamsburg Restaurant on Naylor Road SE. The restaurant opened during World War II and continued into the 1950s. https://t.co/gyN1S0r1Pi Matchbook cover from the Old Williamsburg Restaurant on Naylor Road SE. The restaurant opened during World Wa…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 25, 2022
Poland’s borders have changed many times over its long history, but this map depicts how they appeared in the latter half of the 18th century. Take a look: https://t.co/OMn444r1QR https://t.co/okkQx65Knq Poland’s borders have changed many times over its long history, but this…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 25, 2022
Ultracold Bubbles (in Pink) via NASA https://t.co/qX5O2pw7IC https://t.co/1iUD9539WM
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 25, 2022
On May 25, 1803, Ralph Waldo Emerson was born in Boston. Thirty years later his family relocated to Concord, Mass. where he led the American Transcendentalist movement. Can you find his home on this 1852 map of Concord? https://t.co/8FTCW29dsX https://t.co/8Cvu9KXC9t On May 2…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 25, 2022
Today in History - May 25 https://t.co/aX7BwDgwDI Essayist, philosopher, and poet Ralph Waldo Emerson was born in Boston on May 25, 1803. Continue reading. Legendary jazz tap dancer Bill “Bojangles” Robinson was born on May 25, 1878, in Richmond, Virginia. Continue reading.…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 25, 2022
100 years ago the nation set its clocks to #ArlingtonVA thanks to three tall radio towers, which came to be known as "The Three Sisters." https://t.co/c6Msvt1ERu 100 years ago the nation set its clocks to #ArlingtonVA thanks to three tall radio towers, which came to be known…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
Jousting or Lacrosse? What deserves the title of Maryland's Official Sport? It depends who you ask... #MDHistory https://t.co/WRDWsZ0sQR Jousting or Lacrosse? What deserves the title of Maryland's Official Sport? It depends who you ask... #MDHistory https://t.co/WRDWsZ0sQR …
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
Columbus looks immensely vast in this 1872 depiction of the city. Your attention will likely be drawn towards the Capitol building which is today known as Ohio Statehouse. See the incredible detail here: https://t.co/HGmAqcP6OZ https://t.co/8z426Xa2hI Columbus looks immensely…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
Today in 1844 Morse dispatched the first telegraphic message—Bible, Numbers 23:23—from DC to Baltimore. This map shows the telegraph lines and stations in and around the US in 1851—including the first experimental line used. #otd https://t.co/M2XL0itVls https://t.co/nB2Fkd2ycH…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
InSight's Final Selfie via NASA https://t.co/0LAGXThmwA https://t.co/EdhwBcApZP
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
Today in History - May 24 https://t.co/DUd9DMNOQ8 On May 24, 1844, Samuel F. B. Morse dispatched the first telegraphic message over an experimental line from Washington, D.C. to Baltimore. Continue reading. Click here to search Today in History for other historic moments.
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
Quote of the Day: "Either move or be moved." - Ezra Pound
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 24, 2022
This map from 1857 depicts railroad lines within US, but what may be just as interesting are the timely advertisements printed around the border. These include everything from a carriage manufacturer to a lithography business. Explore for yourself: https://t.co/t05BOQbbjH …
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 23, 2022
On May 23, 1865, the Army of the Potomac paraded down Penn Ave in Washington, DC to celebrate the end of the Civil War. Find the locations of their major engagements during the war on this battlefield map: https://t.co/SptvHmYSAQ https://t.co/vJ1fNLlX0w On May 23, 1865, the A…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 23, 2022
Mysteries of the Needle's Eye, a Dwarf Spiral Galaxy via NASA https://t.co/JM47oI9DW6 https://t.co/iQ03hVrgwP
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 23, 2022
Julius Wilmer "Bill" Morris (1888-1955), head of the New England Seafood Company, owned several seafood restaurants, including the Cadillac on the SW waterfront, the Packard on H Street NE, and the Plymouth on 14th St NW. He also ran the landmark Shrimp Boat on Benning Road …
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 23, 2022
Today in History - May 23 https://t.co/VhveZEufl5 President William Howard Taft presided over the dedication of the New York Public Library on May 23, 1911. Continue reading. On May 23, 1865, the Army of the Potomac celebrated the end of the Civil War by parading down Penns…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 23, 2022
Quote of the Day: "Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in." - Henry David Thoreau
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 23, 2022
Everyone knows Smokey the Bear as the fire safety mascot of the U.S. Forest Service. For Washingtonians, Smokey wasn’t just a cartoon - he was a real neighbor, and captured hearts throughout the city. #DCHistory https://t.co/FZoAIMA9Yf Everyone knows Smokey the Bear as the f…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
While most of campus was (hopefully) asleep at 12:03am on October 15, 1971, the University of Maryland basketball team was running a timed one-mile run -- and starting a tradition. #MDHistory https://t.co/0pVL41rFlb While most of campus was (hopefully) asleep at 12:03am on O…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
After making strangely similar statements in the newspaper and in-person, Frank Holt and R. Pearce seemed to have a lot in common. Their crimes and identities would unravel soon after. #DCHistory https://t.co/tH6Xg9V6wG After making strangely similar statements in the newspa…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
Postcard of Dunbarton College of the Holy Cross, built in 1938 as a Catholic women's college. Next to it is the 1909 Holy Cross Academy, a Catholic girls high school. The buildings, on Upton Street NW just off Conn Ave in Van Ness, now house the Howard University School of L…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
Since breaking ground #OTD in 1968, Wolf Trap National Park has grown to be quite the cultural center in the DMV. It didn’t get there without some challenges, though. #DCHistory #MDHistory #VAHistory https://t.co/6JWfx4l6P1 Since breaking ground #OTD in 1968, Wolf Trap Natio…
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
Today in History - May 22 https://t.co/uDVi7UDjCN On May 22, 1802, the first of first ladies, Martha Dandridge Custis Washington died of a severe fever. Continue reading. Click here to search Today in History for other historic moments.
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
Quote of the Day: "It's easy to make a buck. It's a lot tougher to make a difference." - Tom Brokaw
— Kenneth Samson (@PangurBanC) May 22, 2022
