Richard Nixon resigned 32 years ago, today. It was quite obviously the story of the year, the decade, maybe even the century. A sitting U.S. president forced to give up his job. Replaced by an appointed vice president never elected to his job.
Staggering. Stunning. Then. Foggy. Remote. Now.
It's amazing to me remembering this day, how few even touched on the significance of this day. I know 32 years is an odd number. But what's odder still, are the number of people I talk to, particularly young people, who don't much recall the event, the man, or the significance of the day.
And it got me thinking. Will we soon forget these days? These crises? These historic moments?
Time fogs a lot. I'm just amazed how much it makes us forget a lot. Moments that changed history. Moments that changed us. Vague recollections, quaint anniversaries.
Not much more now, if remembered at all now. Reminders, I suspect, that the things over which we obsess in the moment, are only the moment. Replaced by other things, other events... left to succeeding generations that will remember our stories. But, I fear, little else.
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