PEARL HARBOR-ABSOLUTELY.
Joe DiMaggio-of course.
And ”Citizen Kane”-almost certainly ”Citizen Kane.”
It`s 1991, and you know what that means, don`t you? It means we`re about to be inundated with all that 50th anniversary business for the momentous events of 1941-the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, for instance, and Joe D`s 56-game hitting streak, not to mention Orson Welles` movie-that-changed-the-face-of-movies.
And what about Cheerios? Or the American Bowling Congress Hall of Fame?
They`re also part of the Class of 1941. And did you think ”Citizen Kane” was the only big thing in movies that year? Don`t forget ”Dumbo.”
You say 100th anniversaries are more your style? Fine-1991 will keep you plenty busy too. Sherlock Holmes made his first magazine appearance 100 years ago. Basketball was invented. And so was-drum roll, please-the clothing zipper!
In fact, there are all sorts of anniversaries to choose from in 1991; it all depends on what kinds of milestones you favor and how far back you care to go. Ready?
Way back when . . .
Let`s go way back to 41, for starters-not ”something-41,” mind you, just plain old 41. After all, why limit yourself to celebrating 50ths when you can celebrate 1950ths? It was in 41-1,950 years ago-that the Roman emperor Caligula was murdered by his Praetorian Guard and succeeded by Claudius. Caligula was all of 29 when he bit the dust or whatever passed for dust back then. Tough town, Rome? You bet it was. It took another three centuries, until the year 341, before the Roman Empire banned pagan sacrifices.
Two hundred years after that-in 541-Europe entered the Age of Silly Names as Totila became King of the Ostrogoths after the death of his uncle Hildebad. Totila ruled for 11 years, until he was killed fighting the Byzantines under Narses the Eunuch General. (You`d be out for blood, too, if people called you THAT.)
In 641 someone called Chindaswinth became King of the Visigoths-not to be confused with the Ostrogoths, except by everybody-and 50 years after that, in 691, Clovis III became King of All the Franks (including, presumably, the Ballpark Frank, Frank Sinatra and Frank Perdue, purveyor of the famous Chicken Frank.)
Meanwhile, the Arabs under Omar celebrated 641 by destroying the Persian Empire on their way to conquering Egypt, Mesopotamia and Syria the following year. Islam replaced the religion of Zoroaster, and, for good measure, the Arabs obliterated the book-copying center at Alexandria, which was then considered the center of Western culture. So much for Western culture.
The more things change
In 791 the Byzantine Emperor Constantine threw his mother, Irene, into prison for her cruelty. (”Big shot Emperor, you don`t have time for your mother anymore? So when are you gonna get a real job?”) But by 792, Irene had regained power, proving once again that you can`t keep a good empress down.
In 841 Halfdan of Norway subdued the nobles and founded the Norwegian monarchy. There is absolutely no truth, by the way, to persistent rumors that Halfdan of Norway has a high-ranking American descendant named Fulldan of Indiana.
In 991-1,000 years ago-construction began on the first church in Kiev, just a year or two after Russia adopted Christianity. And speaking of Christianity: In 1191 Richard the Lion-Hearted led a fleet of 100 ships out of England for the Third Crusade, but he and King Philip II of France spent the winter quarreling in Sicily, and Philip went back home. (Winter vacations can be so difficult!) More 1191 religion: Zen Buddhism was introduced to Japan by a priest named Aeisai, just back from a visit to China.
In 1241-750 years ago-the Baltic trading towns that made up the Hanseatic League first made use of exciting new navigational discoveries-the rudder, for instance. In 1291 the Crusades finally came to an end. Other things started:
The middle-European districts of Uri, Schwyz and Unterwalden formed the Everlasting League. Right.
History on the move
Jump ahead to 1491, exactly 500 years ago. A clerical committee appointed by a king files a report: ”The project in question is vain and impossible and not becoming great princes to engage in on such slender grounds as had been adduced.” The king, one Ferdinand of Spain, eventually ignores the recommendation, and the following year Christopher Columbus sets sail for the Indies.
The clerics were right, of course. Columbus never did make it to the Indies. What he did find, though, made possible a whole other stack of 1991 anniversaries. Take 1541, for instance. The Spanish explorer Francisco Vasquez de Coronado led an expedition from what is now New Mexico across Texas, Oklahoma and eastern Kansas. In the very same year another Spanish explorer, Hernando de Soto, discovered the Mississippi River. (”It must know something,” writes de Soto in his journal. ”It don`t say nothing. It just keeps rolling, it keeps on rolling along . . . .”)
In 1591 the Roanoke colony in Virginia was found to have vanished, with a loss of 117 colonists. The only clue? The word ”Croatoan” carved on a tree-a word that has never been fully explained.
The French settled in Michigan in 1641. And back across the ocean, 1691 marked the end of the Irish Rebellion-for the moment, at least-with the signing of the Treaty of Limerick. (”There once was a rebel named Dave . . . .”)
Looking for some 250th anniversaries to celebrate? You`re in luck. In 1741 Jonathan Edwards delivered his famous sermon, ”Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” to a petrified congregation in Enfield, Mass. George Frederick Handel composed a little oratorio called ”The Messiah”-in 18 days. And British Prime Minister Sir Robert Walpole first used the phrase ”balance of power” to describe Britain`s foreign policy.
Not everybody succeeded in 1741, of course. Danish navigator Victor Bering, after discovering Alaska and the Aleutian Islands, died of hunger and cold. Naturally.
More deaths-not slow and painful, but quick and supposedly humane-in 1791: The guillotine made its debut, speeding the French Revolution along. On the brighter side, the U.S. Bill of Rights was ratified in 1791, and Vermont became the 14th state in the Union.
William Henry (”Sneezing Bill”) Harrison made 1841 a year to remember. Elected the ninth president of the United States, Harrison gave a two-hour inaugural address in nasty weather, caught a cold that soon turned to pneumonia and was gone within a month, the first president to die in office.
On the other hand, 1841 was also the year the exploitation of guano in Peru was made a government monopoly. Other hits: Edgar Allan Poe published the world`s first known detective story, ”The Murders in the Rue Morgue.” The New York Tribune was launched by 30-year-old publisher Horace Greeley, and Elias Howe, a Cambridge, Mass., mechanic, invented the first practical sewing machine. And don`t forget: Hypnosis was discovered in 1841 by the Scottish surgeon James Baird.
Semi-modern Times
Centennial fans, take heart! You`ve already heard how 1891 marked the first of many appearances in Strand magazine of Arthur Conan Doyle`s detective, Sherlock Holmes; Holmes had already been featured in two novels. And how phys-ed instructor James Naismith, assigned to come up with something to keep students in Springfield, Mass., occupied between football and baseball seasons, put fruit baskets on top of ladders and invented cherry pie-sorry, basketball (though the first public game wasn`t held until March of 1892). And how Whitcomb L. Judson of Chicago invented the zipper (though it didn`t come into practical use until 1919, giving new urgency to the phrase ”Keep your pants on.”)
But there`s even more to 1891: Carnegie Hall opened in New York City, a new gold rush drew thousands of prospectors to Cripple Creek, Colo., and the first electric oven for commercial use was introduced in St. Paul.
In Paris, meanwhile, Vincent Van Gogh`s paintings had their first showing at the Salon des Independents in 1891. Unfortunately, Van Gogh himself died in 1890. Bad timing.
All of which brings us to 1941 and the great 50th Anniversary events:
DiMaggio and Dumbo. Cheerios and Kane. The Bowling Hall of Fame and the Date That Will Live in Infamy. And there`s more!
The Rainbow Bridge opened over Niagara Falls, making it possible for two sovereign nations, the United States and Canada, to share their tackiest souvenirs. The Grand Coulee Dam powered up in Washington State, turning darkness to dawn and giving Woody Guthrie something to write songs about. The British sank the Bismarck, a major break in the sea war against Germany and a major song nearly 20 years later for someone who wasn`t even Woody Guthrie.
So-enough here to keep you celebrating for a while? More than enough. Nobody says you`ve got to hit them all; just find a favorite or two and get cracking.
I think I`ll take a Visigoth to lunch.
