Photo Credit: John Hopkins University

I subscribe to a free daily email newsletter from History.com titled, This Day in History. It lists significant events that occurred on the same day in years past and links to articles on the subjects. It highlights American and world history and covers a broad spectrum of sports, entertainment, social, and criminal history. 

The list interests me as a historian, but sometimes I look for events I personally recall. They remind me of different periods in my life. It’s like taking a ride in a time machine. Over the past week or so, there have been various events from what might be called “The Strupek Era.”  The killing spree by Charles Manson’s followers in 1969, the discovery in 1990 of the largest Tyrannosaurus Rex skeleton ever uncovered, Robin Williams’ death in 2014, Gerald Ford assuming the presidency on the resignation of Richard Nixon in 1974, President Reagan's firing of over 11,000 air traffic controllers in 1981, and the lights going on for the first time at Wrigley Field in 1988.   

I don't recall the Manson murders, but I remember the book Helter Skelter, written by Manson’s prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi. I read it twice. When it was published in 1974, and recently after reading a book critical of Bugliosi’s version of events. It started a lifelong interest in true-crime stories. An obsession I passed along to my daughter, Samantha. In 1990 I wasn't much into dinosaurs, but the year is significant. Chris and I moved from Western to Eastern Pennsylvania in the spring of 1990. A cross-state move may not seem like much unless you’re familiar with the culture of Pennsylvania. Political strategist and pundit James Carville once described the state as Pittsburgh and Philadelphia with Alabama in between. Our friends in Western Pennsylvania thought everything east of Harrisburg was a concrete jungle and we were moving into a lawless hell. And when we arrived in Eastern Pennsylvania, people there were surprised we had teeth and wore shoes. Philadelphia is an acquired taste, but we smoothly transitioned from kielbasa sandwiches to cheesesteaks, adopted the Phillies, and brought Jonathan into the world there. We returned for a couple of years almost a decade after leaving. Philadelphia and Eastern Pennsylvania hold a place in my heart only second to my hometown of Pittsburgh. 

There are only two entertainers whose pictures hang in my office. Well, three. But I don't count the autographed photo of OJ Simpson marked as evidence from his 2008 trial for armed robbery. The two are Robin Williams and Jonathan Winters. No one has ever made me laugh harder than they did. Individually and together in the classic sitcom, Mork and Mindy. The circumstances surrounding Robin's illness and death were a tragic ending to the life of a creative genius. This routine on the invention of golf and his performance in this scene from Good Will Hunting highlight his range. He brought, and still brings, a tremendous amount of pleasure into my life. 

I remember the moment I heard President Nixon resigned and Vice President Ford would take his place. I recently wrote about how these events influenced me. Reagan's canning of the air-traffic controllers brings back memories of the years of his presidency, 1981-1989, a significant time in my life. I graduated from college, met and married Chris, and began a long and exciting career. When the lights went on at Wrigley Field, I recall wondering, "What kind of stadium still doesn’t have lights?”  When I visited Wrigley for the first time a little over a decade later, I learned it was one where the game's history and the field where it's played are respected and treasured. It's also where Jake told me he planned to ask Samantha to marry him.

My mother has dementia and this week entered assisted living. When I visited her last month, she couldn't remember what we talked about moments before, but she could recall her relatives from well over a half-century ago. I saw the joy those memories brought her. So, I asked questions that sent her rifling through the filing cabinet drawers of her memory that were still open to her. She enjoyed a fun ride in this time machine. 

Even though it has stolen some files, the aging process hasn't locked any drawers in my memory's filing cabinet. The dementia that ignored my grandparents and my father, but took my mother, may never come for me. But I've seen how valuable memories are and how tragic their loss can be. So, every day, courtesy of History.com, I will look for more opportunities to take a ride through time. 

Although it’s free, it’s pretty priceless.