Holy Cow! History

As the 20th century dawned, the owners of Britain’s White Star Line were thinking big. Really big. They envisioned three huge ocean liners that would be larger and far more luxurious than anything the world had ever seen.

Historians love ranking presidents. You’ve seen the lists. There are the Greats, the Near Greats and the Mediocre.

Eighty years ago, Europe was finally quiet. Planes no longer dropped bombs, tanks sat stationary, rattling machine guns fell silent. After six bloody years, World War II was at last over on the continent.

Springtime in Washington is famous for two things: the Japanese cherry blossoms and the annual White House Correspondents’ Association dinner. It’s one of D.C.’s biggest bashes of the year when the paparazzi and the glitterati come together for an evening of laughter.

Washington loves a leaker. An “unidentified source” who’s willing to spill the beans and dish on his boss or colleagues. Sometimes, the motivation is revenge, settling the score for an old wrong, be it real or imagined. Other leakers do so for reasons of conscience, believing the public needs to know what’s happening behind the scenes.

The one (and perhaps only) thing Americans seem to agree on these days is political rhetoric is too toxic. They long for folks to cool down and behave like dignified statesmen from that long-ago time before Twitter inflamed passions.

Supermarkets’ cake mix shelves feature the Big Three. There’s Pillsbury, whose Doughboy is a cartoon character. There’s Betty Crocker; sure, her pretty face is on the box, but it’s a portrait drawn from imagination because she’s fictitious.

After a four-year absence, Andrew Jackson is back in the Oval Office.

Sixty years ago, Americans were doubled over laughing at a 70-something spitfire’s antics.