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Dance Hall Days
“In the Mood,” that toe-tapping big band classic, was on the setlist when my mom, her youngest sister, and brother-in-law caught a recent show at the Sellersville Theater. They were in town celebrating my aunt and uncle’s forty-fifth wedding anniversary,… Continue reading
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Oz Really Isn’t So Terrible
I remember when my mom, an avid reader, handed me my first Judy Blume book. I curled up with the small paperback in the quiet of my childhood bedroom and disappeared into its pages for what felt like hours. The… Continue reading
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Huzza! Brave Boys
History rarely arrives with fanfare. More often, it slips in quietly—catching us off guard in everyday moments: a stack of old books forgotten in a basement, a handwritten note in the margin of a worn cookbook, a song your mother… Continue reading
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Family Ties
Most of the time, we pass through towns without ever truly seeing them. A name flashes by on a roadway sign, a row of storefronts slips past the car window—and just like that, we’re gone. We don’t stop. We don’t… Continue reading
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Rootin’-Tootin’ Rabble-Rousin
Some years, it feels like we completely skip spring. One minute it’s flurries and frostbite, and the next—bam!—we’re baking in full-on summer heat. In fact, a 2025 analysis by Climate Central found that 98% of the U.S. has seen more… Continue reading
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School’s Out For Summer
When you ask someone to name the oldest college in America, Harvard is almost always the first answer—and for good reason. Founded in 1636, it holds the title of the nation’s first institution of higher learning. Located in Cambridge, Massachusetts,… Continue reading
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Belle of the Bar
The idea of six degrees of separation—sometimes called the “six handshake rule”—subtly shapes how I explore history each week. First imagined in a 1929 short story by Hungarian writer Frigyes Karinthy, it suggests that any two people on Earth are… Continue reading
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Garden of Eden
After months of gray skies and stillness, there’s nothing more healing than stepping outside and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin again. I live for those quiet hours with my hands in the dirt—no noise, no screens,… Continue reading
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From Lemonade to Lubinville
My first big trip was to California when I was fourteen, give or take a year or two. I was both excited and scared—never having flown on a commercial airplane before. My mom, her partner Jon, my brother, and I… Continue reading
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A Place Called Home
In some ways, my archival journey began the moment I first stepped through the front door of my house—though I didn’t realize it at the time. There was a quiet pull inside me, a yearning to uncover the stories hidden… Continue reading
Keystone Wayfarer 