In 1960, more than a third of the U.S. population was under 18.

  • Children get on a school bus, 1960s
Children get on a school bus, 1960s
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Author Sarah Anne Lloyd
January 7, 2025

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During the 1930s and early 1940s, many Americans held off on starting families because of the economic insecurity of the Great Depression and uncertainty of World War II. But the prosperous postwar era led to an increase of births between 1946 and 1964 that gave the baby boomer generation its nickname. Over this 19-year period, the booming birth rate helped the U.S. population grow by more than 50%. The country’s demographic makeup shifted so rapidly that by 1960, there were 64.2 million Americans under age 18, out of 180 million overall — a whopping 36% of the population. For context, in 2022, an estimated 22.4% of the U.S. population was under 18. 

General fertility rates in the baby boom era peaked in 1957 at 122.9 live births for every 1,000 women aged 15 to 44 — that’s 4.3 million babies that year alone. The general fertility rate took a nosedive throughout the 1960s as the birth control pill became more widely available and women entered the workforce at much higher rates. By 1970, the general fertility rate was 87.9, and the much smaller Generation X was well underway.

The baby boomer generation didn’t reproduce at the same rapid clip as their parents, but because there were so many of them, they still produced a lot of offspring. Indeed, 1990 — the year all those 1957 babies turned 33 — was another banner year for births, with 4.2 million millennials entering the world, despite a general fertility rate of just 70.9.

The only WWII enemy-caused deaths in the continental U.S. were at a picnic in Oregon.

  • Japanese Fu-Go balloon bomb
Japanese Fu-Go balloon bomb
Credit: © PJF Military Collection/Alamy
Author Bess Lovejoy
June 26, 2026

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Elsie Mitchell had baked a chocolate cake for the picnic that day on May 5, 1945. The young pastor’s wife, five months pregnant with her first child, accompanied her husband and five children from their congregation as they set off for a sunny day of eating and fishing on Gearhart Mountain near Bly, Oregon.

As the Reverend Archie Mitchell parked and unloaded the car that morning, the children raced off toward Leonard Creek, Elsie trailing behind them. One of the children noticed a large, mysterious, gray object near the water. She called to Elsie and the other children, who soon gathered around. A child went to pick up the object — and a massive explosion shook the forest.

Elsie Mitchell became the only adult victim of an enemy attack on the U.S. mainland during World War II. All five children also perished. The cause was Japanese balloon bombs, also known as fu-go. Made of mulberry paper and filled with hydrogen, these balloons were set aloft in the jet stream of the Pacific toward the end of the war, between November 1944 and April 1945. Each balloon carried multiple bombs, designed to kill, start forest fires, and sow panic.

Although there had been earlier sightings of the balloon bombs, the U.S. government asked the media not to report on them in order to avoid panic and to persuade the Japanese that their efforts had been fruitless. The latter strategy worked: Japan had actually canceled the program a month before the Oregon deaths, convinced their program had failed. Of course, by then, hundreds, if not thousands, of the balloons had made it to the mainland. 

When the Mitchell party tragedy was announced in the local media, no precise cause of death was given. U.S. officials didn’t fully lift the information blackout on the bombs until the following month, when it became evident that the public needed to be warned. All told, 361 balloon bombs were eventually found in the U.S., Canada, and Mexico, and while some did explode, the damage was minimal. (They never did start any forest fires — apparently the Japanese underestimated just how rainy the forests of the Pacific Northwest actually are.) Today, a stone-and-bronze monument marks the spot, about 13 miles northeast of Bly, where the only mainland deaths of World War II occurred.

Divers recently found a long-lost shipwreck that sank in a hit-and-run.

  • A fishing vessel run aground
A fishing vessel run aground
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Author Nicole Villeneuve
June 26, 2026

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More than 160 years after vanishing beneath the waves of the Atlantic, the wreck of French steamship Le Lyonnais was discovered off the coast of Massachusetts. The ship’s demise in November 1856 was a bit out of the ordinary. Le Lyonnais didn’t topple in a storm or suffer an epic wreck — it sank as a result of a hit-and-run.

Le Lyonnais was sailing from the U.S. to France when it collided with the U.S. sailing ship Adriatic. The Adriatic suffered only minor damage and sailed on, heading for port in Gloucester, Massachusetts, for repairs. The crew of the Adriatic reportedly thought Le Lyonnais was fine to carry on as well, but the French ship was not so fortunate: The hull was punctured, and despite the crew’s efforts to patch the breach, the situation grew worse. Three days later, Le Lyonnais succumbed to the damage and sank. Of the steamship’s 132 passengers, only 18 survived.

Though the fate of Le Lyonnais was known, the exact location of its wreckage remained a mystery until recently. In August 2024, a shipwreck hunting and salvaging team discovered the vessel about 200 miles from New Bedford, Massachusetts. They knew they’d found the right ship thanks to a few key details including the horizontal steam engine and iron hull plates. Most crucially, the engine’s cylinder measured 57 inches — a perfect match with the ship’s records. According to Jennifer Sellitti, a member of the crew that found the ship and the author of The Adriatic Affair: A Maritime Hit-and-Run off the Coast of Nantucket, Adriatic Captain John Durham later had his ship apprehended by French authorities and was put on trial. But even with the international attention, the sinking of Le Lyonnais was all but forgotten after the onset of the American Civil War.

The first official U.S. coin told people to ‘mind your business.’

  • Fugio cent, 1850
Fugio cent, 1850
Credit © YA/BOT/Alamy
Author Michael Nordine
June 26, 2026

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There are many ways to display your patriotism on the Fourth of July, one of which is to “mind your business.” That, at least, is what the first official U.S. coin, minted in 1787, had written on the obverse (front side). 

Inspired by a design from Benjamin Franklin, it was known as the Fugio cent because it featured that Latin word (which means “I fly”) next to a sundial. Below the image was the phrase “Mind your business.” Taken together, the message has been interpreted to mean “Time flies, so mind your business.” 

That bluntness is echoed in another early American motto: “Live free or die,” which traces back to a letter written by General John Stark in 1809 and was later adopted as New Hampshire’s state motto. 

The reverse side of the Fugio cent was comparatively mild and featured the phrase “We are one” surrounded by 13 chain links representing the original colonial states; it wasn’t until the next year that “E pluribus unum” was first printed on U.S. currency.

The Fugio cent, for its part, didn’t last long in circulation. The coin was lightweight, which people apparently didn’t enjoy the feel of.

After World War I, people used X-rays to try on shoes.

  • Shoe-fitting fluoroscope
Shoe-fitting fluoroscope
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Author Sarah Anne Lloyd
June 26, 2026

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There’s a reason we typically receive X-rays only in a medical setting: Without the proper precautions, radiation is extremely dangerous. But for several decades following the discovery of X-rays in 1895, most people didn’t think twice about sticking their feet inside unregulated X-ray machines at the shoe store. Shoe-fitting fluoroscopes, which show moving images in real time, were developed during World War I to examine injured soldiers’ feet without removing their boots. After the war, they were adapted for commercial use to help fit people for shoes, and they became staples at shoe stores in many countries, including the United States.

The machines were tall wooden or metal cabinets with an X-ray tube encased in lead at the base, and an alcove for the customer’s feet just above. When the fluoroscope was turned on, X-ray beams created an image on a fluorescent screen above the feet, which could be viewed through eyepieces on top of the cabinet. The devices were heavily marketed to mothers and children, and some machines had three eyepieces: one for the seller, one for the customer, and one for the parent.

While some experts raised alarms about the potential dangers of the machines in the 1920s and ’30s, the public became more acutely aware of the effects of radiation after World War II. States started regulating and testing shoe-fitting fluoroscopes in the late 1940s. At least one shoe store employee suffered radiation burns on her foot from a leaky machine, and medical experts warned that radiation exposure could damage kids’ growing bones. However, it’s impossible to determine how many people were hurt, since radiation injuries come on slowly and nobody at the time was keeping track of who was using the machines or for how long.

In 1957, Pennsylvania became the first state to ban the shoe-fitting X-rays altogether, and most other states followed suit over the next few years, effectively wiping out their use in the United States. 

Abraham Lincoln could plausibly have sent a fax to a samurai.

  • Vintage facsimile machine
Vintage facsimile machine
Credit: © Luisa Vallon Fumi—iStock/Getty Images
Author Michael Nordine
June 25, 2026

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The 1860s weren’t eventful just in the United States. As the American Civil War raged in the first half of the decade and Abraham Lincoln became the first president to be assassinated, a way of life was ending in Japan: that of the samurai, who dwindled after the Meiji Restoration both modernized and westernized the country. 

Before that happened, though, there was a brief period of seemingly unlikely convergence during which the 16th U.S. president could theoretically have sent a fax to a samurai. The first fax (short for “facsimile”) machine was invented in 1843 by Scottish mechanic Alexander Bain, but English physicist Frederick Bakewell was the first to actually demonstrate facsimile transmission eight years later — at which time Lincoln was still a lawyer in Illinois and the samurai were still revered halfway across the world.

However, fax technology wasn’t commercialized until 1863, when Italian inventor Giovanni Caselli received a patent for his “telegraphic apparatus.” At the time, Lincoln was fairly busy trying to keep the Union intact and the samurai were fighting for their very existence. Still, Honest Abe could have sent a copy of the Gettysburg Address to a member of Japan’s legendary warrior class had he been so inclined.

When Charles Dickens visited the White House, no one answered so he let himself in.

  • Charles Dickens
Charles Dickens
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Author Timothy Ott
June 25, 2026

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As part of an extensive tour of the United States that encompassed most of the first half of 1842, English author Charles Dickens earned an invitation to meet President John Tyler at the White House. However, this visit left a lot to be desired on the part of the author, beginning with his attempt to actually locate the commander in chief. As explained in his travelogue American Notes, Dickens and an unnamed official, “having twice or thrice rung a bell which nobody answered,” simply entered the White House and attempted to find the president on their own.

After wandering upstairs and catching the attention of a servant, Dickens noticed how the others gathered in a waiting room had no compunction about spitting tobacco juice as they pleased. He wrote, “Indeed all these gentlemen were so very persevering and energetic in this latter particular, and bestowed their favours so abundantly upon the carpet, that I take it for granted the Presidential housemaids have high wages.” While he didn’t have to wait long to see President Tyler, the meeting soon unfolded into an awkward spectacle. Tyler commented on the youthful appearance of the 30-year-old writer, who failed to reply in kind to the “worn and anxious” 51-year-old president. The two then sat in silence near a hot stove until Dickens excused himself, sarcastically noting that his host was clearly very busy.

The disappointing visit to the Executive Mansion was a microcosm of Dickens’ overall experience in the United States. Overwhelmed by the mobs of people who gathered to see him, dismayed by the ongoing institution of slavery, and frustrated by his inability to generate interest in international copyright laws, the author vented his criticisms of the titular country when American Notes was published later that year, in turn igniting the ire of U.S. citizens until Dickens returned to make amends in 1867.

Julius Caesar was once kidnapped by pirates.

  • Julius Caesar captured by pirates
Julius Caesar captured by pirates
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Author Timothy Ott
June 25, 2026

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Before he emerged as a military hero and the envy of Roman senators who feared his popular reach, Julius Caesar demonstrated his ability to manipulate minds during a reported encounter with pirates around 75 BCE.

Although the tale varies based on the historian who relayed it, the general outline holds that Caesar was captured off the coast of modern-day Turkey. According to Plutarch’s Life of Caesar, the young nobleman laughed when he heard that his ransom was set at a mere 20 talents of silver (a huge sum of money, possibly worth millions today) and suggested it be raised to the more appropriate sum of 50 talents. After sending his men to fetch the money, Caesar proceeded to boss around his captors: He forced them to listen to his poems and speeches, calling them illiterate savages when they didn’t approve; ordered them to keep quiet when he tried to sleep; and brazenly announced that they would all be executed once he was free. 

Released when the ransom arrived after 38 days, Caesar proceeded to the nearby port of Miletus (an ancient Greek city in modern Turkey), raised a fleet, and hunted down the pirates. When the governor of Asia wavered over the fate of the imprisoned men, Caesar took charge of the situation and had them all crucified.

Given that the story may well have originated with Caesar himself, one could be forgiven for finding the details of this seafaring adventure a little fishy. Nevertheless, it fits in well within the biographical narrative of a powerful man who wrested control of a war-torn republic and helped usher its transition to the Roman Empire.

Four U.S. presidents were cheerleaders.

  • Cheerleader pom poms and megaphone
Cheerleader pom poms and megaphone
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Author Sarah Anne Lloyd
June 18, 2026

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Despite its modern association with women, cheerleading started in the mid-19th century as what was considered a masculine sport — an ideal pastime for charismatic, athletic young men. Women were actively excluded at first, but started taking the field during World War II when many college-aged men were fighting abroad, and they didn’t really overtake the sport until the 1960s; as women cheerleaders became more common, the sport was trivialized and viewed as not athletic enough for men. So even though the United States has not had a female president, it’s not necessarily surprising that four former occupants of the White House — Franklin D. Roosevelt, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Ronald Reagan, and George W. Bush —  spent time hyping up a crowd as cheerleaders for their school sports teams.

Though FDR didn’t play any other college sports himself, he was an avid football fan, devoting many column inches to the Harvard team while editor of the Harvard Crimson newspaper, and he eventually became head cheerleader. Eisenhower desperately wanted to play baseball and football at West Point in the 1910s, but after a career-ending knee injury during a football game (which he promptly reinjured horseback riding a few days later), he expressed his love for the game as head cheerleader.

Cheerleading at basketball games was just one of Reagan’s laundry list of athletic extracurriculars at Eureka College in the 1930s, along with track, football, and serving as captain and coach of the swim team. And Bush, who attended boarding school at Phillips Academy Andover in the 1960s, where athletic participation was mandatory, became a cheerleader after warming the bench in basketball, baseball, and football. He eventually rose to the rank of head cheerleader his senior year. Bush took the megaphone amid a cultural shift: While cheerleading was still considered masculine at Andover, back in his home state of Texas it was largely viewed as a feminine activity.

Italy once called for the abolition of pasta.

  • Macaroni maker in Naples
Macaroni maker in Naples
Credit: © The Picture Art Collection/Alamy
Author Nicole Villeneuve
June 17, 2026

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Pasta is a culinary staple worldwide, but in Italy it’s also a cultural institution — which is why it’s shocking to consider that the country once tried to abolish the food.

During the 1920s and 1930s, Benito Mussolini’s fascist government pushed a campaign against pasta that was framed as an attempt to improve public health. Some officials and allies of the regime argued that a modern, stronger nation would be better off with fewer carbohydrates and more protein. People who ate pasta, proponents claimed, were sluggish and bloated, and merely trying to fill an insatiable emotional emptiness.

But the campaign had ulterior motives. Since pasta relied heavily on imported wheat, the anti-pasta rhetoric was really an effort to reduce foreign economic dependence and to tighten control over everyday civilian life by increasing domestic crops such as rice. 

Many Italians, perhaps unsurprisingly, resisted Mussolini’s efforts. In the rice fields of northern Italy, working-class women known as the mondine organized strikes and protests over poor wages and conditions. Elsewhere, the mayor of Naples defended pasta by saying, “The angels in Paradise eat nothing but vermicelli al pomodoro.” By the 1940s, the fascist control over Italians’ everyday diet had shifted, overtaken by the realities of World War II and a population far more concerned with eating at all than with the details of the menu.