Category: History Blog

The MLB playoffs are upon us, and while I’m not a huge baseball fan, I do like a lot of the lore that surrounds the game… especially the curses. You’re probably familiar with the Curse of the Bambino, where the Boston Red Sox were condemned to eternal failure (and the New York Yankees eternal success) after Red Sox manager Harry Frazee sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees to (allegedly) fund Frazee’s production of the musical No, No, Nanette. The curse was finally broken in 2004, when the Red Sox won their first World Series since 1918.

And then there’s the far more colorful Curse of the Billy Goat, where the Chicago Cubs were condemned to eternal failure by a Greek immigrant named Billy Sianis, who owned a tavern close to Wrigley Field. It seems that one fateful day a goat fell off a passing truck and limped into the bar. Sianis nursed the goat back to health and eventually took him to Game 4 of the 1945 World Series between the Cubs and Detroit Tigers. Billy and his goat were allowed on the field before the game, because the goat was wearing a blanket embroidered with the phrase “We got Detroit’s goat!”. As gametime approached, ushers shooed Billy and his goat off the field and into the box seats that Sianis purchased two tickets for (one for the goat and one for himself). All was well until Cubs owner Philip Knight Wrigley decided to eject Sianis and the goat due to the goat’s “objectionable odor”. On the way out of the stadium, Sianis cursed the Cubs, saying that they’d never win another pennant in Wrigley Field because of the ejection. Sianis went back to Greece for a vacation, and the Cubs ended up losing the series, prompting Sianis to write “Who stinks now?” in a letter sent to Philip Wrigley from Greece. And then there’s the Curse of the Black Sox, the Curse of Rocky Colavito, and the Curse of Billy Penn.

But did you know that baseball teams in other countries have curses of thir own? It’s true! Just ask the fans of Japan’s Hanshin Tigers!

Continue reading “The Curse of the Colonel”

The city of Delft, in the Netherlands, is famous for two things.

The first of these is Delftware, a “porcelain substitute” developed in the city in the 16th century to compete with “real” porcelain, which came from China and was hideously expensive, even for rich people. Delftware is almost always white with a blue pattern on it; if you look in your grandmother’s china cabinet, you’ll almost certainly find some delftware in it – or at least a reasonable copy thereof. Delftware became amazingly popular, so much so that it was even exported into China and Japan. Amusingly, the Chinese made copies of delftware to ship back to Europe, so at some point it was possible to buy a Chinese copy of a European copy of a Chinese original!

The other thing Delft is known for is being the home of Antonie van Leeuwenhoek and Johannes (Jan) Vermeer.

Antonie van Leeuwenhoek, until very recently, was credited as being “the inventor of the microscope” in many middle and high school textbooks. But the truth is, microscopes existed decades before van Leeuwenhoek was born. However, van Leeuwenhoek did greatly improve microscopes. He was a glass grinder, and van Leeuwenhoek was a master at making lenses. And, while testing out the lenses, van Leeuwenhoek made many interesting observations that he dutifully forwarded to England’s Royal Society and other scientific groups. Even though van Leeuwenhoek was nothing more than a tradesman, really, he is known in some circles as “the father of microbiology” more than anything else.

Continue reading “The Mystery of Jan Vermeer”

For years, shortwave radio enthusiasts have noted a curious phenomenon: radio stations that seem to pop-up out of nowhere, read a list of numbers, then disappear… sometimes forever. Because the sole purpose of the broadcasts is apparently to read lists of numbers, shortwave junkies started calling them “numbers stations”… although as we shall see, other names might be appropriate.

No one seems to know when the “numbers stations” started broadcasting. No one seems to know who’s behind them. Shortwave enthusiasts assume that someone somewhere knows the purpose behind the stations, but as far as I or anyone else knows, that purpose is a mystery. In fact, there’s not a lot about the numbers stations that we do know. In fact, all we can say for sure is:

– The stations are sometimes transient, sometimes not: Some numbers stations appear to broadcast once, then disappear forever; others appear in certain places on the shortwave dial with clockwork regularity. In fact, certain stations appear with such regularity that broadcast schedules are posted on shortwave enthusiast websites.

– The stations broadcast for hours… or minutes: Some numbers stations repeat their “messages” a few times and then sign off; other stations might repeat their messages for hours and hours.

– The stations broadcast in many languages: Recordings and verified “sightings” have shown that numbers stations are broadcast in English, French, Spanish, German, Russian, Chinese, Hebrew… and just about every other major language you can think of.

Continue reading “The “Numbers Station” Mystery”

To most people born after 1920, the existence of dinosaurs is a given. Folks in our modern age don’t even question the fact that 300 million or so years ago, huge reptile-like beasts roamed around in a world devoid of humans. That Tyrannosaurus Rex and Brontosaurus once existed is as natural to us as the sun coming up, or rain falling from clouds.

Stop for a moment, though, and consider how downright bizarre the whole concept would have sounded to someone born in, say 1720. The only information most people at that time had about ancient animals came from the Bible or the works of classic Greek or Roman writers. And all those sources mention lions, tigers, bears and many other types of animals still very much in existence. It seemed logical to assume that if tigers existed in the time of the Old Testament, they’d always existed. If you could travel back to the 18th century and tell them that at one point, long in the past, gigantic, lizard-like creatures dozens of feet long roamed the earth, they’d probably burn you at the stake for witchcraft… and I can’t say that I’d blame them.

There was one thing that troubled people back then though, and that was the existence of fossils. At the time, most of the fossils people were familiar with were of ancient sea creatures like fish or bivalves. And what bothered the 18th century mind was why those fossils would turn up in the middle of the English countryside or high atop mountains deep in the heart of France.

Several schools of thought developed as “gentlemen scientists” investigated the matter further. Those investigations continued quietly on for some time, but the entire world seemed to turn upside down in 1811, when an uneducated young girl named Mary Anning found the remains of an ichthyosaur in Dorset, on the English coast. But rather than clearly making the case for the existence of dinosaurs, Annin’s fossil only made things even murkier. Since the fossil resembled a gigantic crocodile, the question wasn’t “what was this prehistoric beast?” but rather “what are the bones of a huge crocodile doing in England?”

Continue reading “The Tragic Fate of the Man Who Discovered Dinosaurs”

Enrico Fermi was one smart guy. The Italian physicist is most famous for building the world’s first nuclear reactor at the University of Chicago in 1939, but he was also famous for his work in the development of quantum theory and for winning the Nobel Prize in Physics for his work on induced radioactivity in 1938. However, one of his more enduring theories came about as a result of a seemingly flippant remark that Fermi made one day at lunch.

The year was 1950. Fermi and some colleagues were sitting down and enjoying a nice lunch. The topic of the day was extraterrestrial life; professors and grad students eagerly traded theories about where alien life could be found and what it might be like. As the excitement level of the crowd continued to rise, someone noticed that Fermi hadn’t said anything. In fact, he was just sitting there quietly, eating his lunch. During a brief lull in the conversation, that person asked Fermi what he thought about extraterrestrial life. Fermi looked up, thought for a minute, then asked “Where is everybody?”

Now, that three word phrase might seem silly. Condescending. Flippant, even. But it was actually a very deep thing to say. And it would become the basis of the Fermi Paradox. The paradox is awfully complex, but in a nutshell it goes something like this: modern human beings (that is, humans that have left a physical record of their existence, such as writing or buildings) have been around for around 6,000 years. The universe has been around for around 14 billion years. Obviously, 6,000 years is a teeny, tiny fraction of the universe’s 14 billion total years, so isn’t it logical to assume that some other intelligent life has been around for longer than ourselves? And if so, why can’t we see any trace of their existence? We haven’t seen any evidence of their space probes, their battles to colonize other planets or their messages left in radio waves. Not only can we not find the alien equivalent of a Starbucks on Mars, we can’t find any evidence of their existence whatsoever.

The interesting question is why. Does intelligent life eventually get smart enough to destroy itself… and then do just that, as is the fear with nuclear weapons? Does the very process of gaining the intelligence necessary to colonize space ruin home planets, as is the fear with global warming? Is space simply so very vast that Wars of the Worlds are going on at this very minute, but humans lack the ability to notice it? Or is our greatest fear true: that we really are alone?

Ever heard of the “Romantic Movement”? It didn’t have anything to do with bringing home roses and chocolates for the missus; indeed it didn’t have anything to do with what we think of as “romance” at all. Wikipedia says that it was “an artistic and intellectual movement that originated in late 18th century Western Europe”. It was partly “a revolt against aristocratic, social, and political norms of the Enlightenment period”, but it was also (and more importantly) “a reaction against the rationalization of nature”.

There were two major scientific advances that led to the birth of the movement:

The first was medical science (and science in general), in that it seemed that scientists of the day were creeping ever closer to discovering the true “essence” of life. Whatever you want to call it – Life Force, Primal Essence, you name it – it seemed as if scientists of the day were mere inches from figuring out what that thing was and the Romantics feared that all manner of Bad Things would happen once Pandora’s Box was opened. One of the most famous pieces of Romantic literature – Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein – deals with this question directly: a “mad scientist” type figures out how to harness the power of life and uses his skills to create a monster. You probably know the rest of the story. In any case, Mary Shelley’s fear is hardly unknown to us. In fact, such fear may be even more prevalent today than it was two hundred years ago. It seems that medical science – with its DNA and stem cell research – might again be on the cusp of “harnessing life”. And it scares people now just as much as it did then.

The other scientific advance that kicked off the Romantic Movement was the Industrial Revolution. For centuries, people made things with their hands. But suddenly, factories were popping up all over Europe, factories that could do the work of thousands of people using machines that didn’t require wages or sleep. People had a real fear of technology – much like people in the 1960s and 1970s that feared that computers would take over their jobs. In fact, the fear of technology was so great that a political movement took root in England that went from factory to factory smashing up the machines. The movement made such an impression that to this day “Luddite” is a pejorative term for someone that has a (real or imagined) fear of technology.

Continue reading “The Beautiful Forgery”

The British Empire was the largest, most powerful empire in the history of the world. At its height, the Empire controlled over 14 million square miles of territory and 458 million people – both of which constituted a quarter of the entire planet. The old saying “the sun never sets on the British Empire” was indeed true – so much land was held in so many places that the sun was, in fact, shining on some piece of land held by the British at all times.

It all came to an end after World War II, though. Exhausted and broke after battling Hitler for so long, Britain could no longer afford the luxury of an overseas empire, and most of the territories held by Britain were eventually given their independence.

Although the Empire began falling apart in the late 1940s, Britain still acted as an Imperial power in many industries until the mid 1960s. In shipbuilding, medical research and aeronautical design the Brits still ruled. In fact, it was the last category – aeronautical design – the Brits were in fact ahead of both the Americans and the Soviets. For on January 22, 1952, the British Overseas Airways Corporation (BOAC), the forerunner of British Airways, began the first commercial passenger jet service using the de Havilland Comet jet.

Continue reading “How a Comet Destroyed An Entire Industry”

This story has been told and retold on the Internet so many times that it should be old-hat by now. Unfortunately, it’s almost always told incorrectly. I don’t claim to have any special knowledge of the subject, but I have read several books on the birth of personal computers; I have also seen the documentary “Revenge of the Nerds” and the TNT film “The Pirates of Silicon Valley”, so I think that entitles me to weigh in on the subject.

IBM long prided itself on making the best computers in the world. IBM made huge mainframe computers, elegant, power-hungry monsters that were as big as a refrigerator on the small end and as big as a tractor trailer on the large end. IBM made billions making “real” computers like these, so it’s not entirely surprising that they initially looked at the “personal computer” of the late 1970s as a toy. Much to their distress, however, companies like Apple, Commodore and Timex were shipping personal computers by the millions. While IBM scoffed at the notion that a personal computer could be useful for anything more than storing recipes, entire industries were being built up around the Apple II and the Commodore 64. IBM’s absence from the personal computer market thus started to become quite noticeable. After all, IBM was seen by most Americans as the computer company… yet they offered nothing for the home consumer, enthusiast or even smaller businesses that needed a computer but couldn’t afford one of IBM’s mainframes.

A working group was thus created within IBM to bring a personal computer to market as quickly as possible… which presented a problem. IBM had long prided itself on designing and manufacturing every single part of their computers. That was just “the IBM way”. But the working group quickly discovered that designing a brand-new personal computer from scratch would take years. Since IBM management wanted to enter the personal computer market as quickly as possible, designing a brand-new machine was therefore not an option. The new IBM PC was thus designed with off-the-shelf parts to allow the company to start shipping PCs as quickly as possible.

But then another problem surfaced… what operating system would the new IBM PCs use? It can take just as long (usually longer, in fact) to create an operating system than the hardware it runs on, and IBM didn’t have the time to create one of their own. So they looked to an outside source. And one of the first places they went was a small Seattle company called Microsoft.

Continue reading “The Biggest Loser in IT History”

Back in the mid-1980s, the “Baby Boomer” generation began entering middle age. Many began to look back to their childhoods for comfort or nostalgia, and one of the things that stuck out in their collective memories was baseball cards. These simple pieces of paper brought back powerful memories of lazy summer afternoons trading cards with friends, breathlessly opening new packs hoping for “THE card” and even putting the cards into the spokes of their bicycles to create faux motorcycle sounds as they pedaled down the street.

Unfortunately for the Boomers, most of their mothers had thrown the cards away ages ago, thinking them to be worthless. However, since the Boomers were entering their prime earning years, many had cash to spend on the hitherto “worthless” cards. Almost overnight, a huge market opened up for old baseball cards, and cards that might have sold for a quarter at garage sales now started commanding hundreds or even thousands of dollars.

The baseball card industry took immediate notice. They began producing baseball cards of all kinds: cards based on “classic” 1950s designs, cards branded under the names of 1950s manufacturers (like Bowman) that had long since gone out of business, cards with “low numbers” (which included the previous season’s rosters) and cards with “high numbers” (which incorporated last-minute trades), packs of cards with autographed cards or other pieces of memorabilia, and so on. And where there had been only two companies making baseball cards in the early 1980s (longtime market leader Topps and perennial second-banana Fleer), new companies like Donruss, Score and Upper Deck entered into the market.

Baseball card hysteria took off in the early 1990s. Most every town, regardless of size, seemed to have at least one card shop. And with so many cards available, markets for complimentary items like price guides and protective plastic casings helped fill the stores’ shelves as well. People began buying cards left and right, but not for the nostalgia value… they were hoping to pay for their kid’s college education with a few boxes of baseball cards. Card auctions were closely watched, as prices for cards seemed to rise ever higher.

Continue reading “All About Bubbles”