This is such a broad question—and I think it assumes a short memory, or else the question would be narrower.
Frankly, I remember a lot.
The World in Technicolor (1969–1970s)
My story began with a historic TV program. I was born on the morning of October 27, 1966—just about 12 hours before the first airing of It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, the first-ever Halloween TV special. I clearly don’t remember that, but it’s kind of cool sharing a birthday with a historic television moment.
I remember seeing a moon landing in 1969. It was probably the second one—Apollo 12 in November 1969—shortly after my family moved to Fort Pierce, Florida. I was actually a spectator at the Apollo 13 launch the next year in April. I was also at Disney World just before it opened in 1971. My dad was included in a press preview, so we got to be there less than a month before the official opening.
I remember watching footage of the terrorists at the Munich Olympics in 1972. I watched Nixon resign on TV at my grandparents’ house in Texas, and I remember Ford becoming president. The next summer, I went to see Jaws, and I didn’t even go into our pool for a couple of days after that. I lived just outside Philadelphia in 1976 during the Bicentennial. My sisters, Holly and Suzy, and I restaged the famous “Spirit of ’76” painting, marching through our neighborhood with toy drums and flags.
I wasn’t a big fan of Elvis Presley, but everyone was affected in some way by his death in 1977. That same year, Star Wars came out, and my life—and the world—was never the same. The American hostages in Iran dominated the daily news, and we mentally ticked off the days every morning at breakfast. That overshadowed even the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. And in between, I was enraptured by Danny and Sandy in Grease and by Lois and Clark in Superman.
Icons and Ideals (1980s)
The decade began with Mount St. Helens erupting and Ronald Reagan being elected president. That was also the year of “The Miracle on Ice,” when the outmanned U.S. Olympic hockey team upset the heavily favored Soviets. I watched it on the same TV where, later that year, my Philadelphia Phillies finally won their first World Series.
I remember exactly where I was when I heard that John Lennon had been murdered—having dinner with my mom at a little pizza place. I stayed up late that night listening to tributes on the radio. The next year, I was at baseball practice when John Hinckley tried to kill President Reagan. My mom and sisters thought I was joking when I told them in the car.
My history teacher played the landing of the Space Shuttle Columbia on TV in class. My generation was mesmerized by music videos when MTV launched in 1981. We took my little sister to see E.T. in 1982, which was a mistake—she had nightmares for weeks.
In 1983, we talked about the Beirut Marine barracks bombing in my AP American History class. The Los Angeles Olympics were on TV in our house almost continually in 1984. (I remember going to McDonald’s to collect free food for American gold medals.) The year I graduated—1985—was also the year of Live Aid. I had to leave midway through the concert for work, and I couldn’t get out of it because my dad was my boss.
I was at Stetson University in 1986 when the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded; I didn’t see it on TV, but through a window in our student union building. And I celebrated with the rest of the free world when the Berlin Wall fell in 1989. My mom later bought me a little chunk of it as a souvenir.
Newsroom and Noise (1990s)
I lived in Jacksonville when the first Gulf War started, and the whole town buzzed with military pride. I was shocked by the Rodney King beating, and even more so when Los Angeles burned after the police officers’ acquittal.
In 1993, I was working in a newsroom in Harlingen, Texas—so I covered the first World Trade Center bombing, the Waco siege, and the passage of NAFTA. The O.J. Simpson case took over the next two years, starting with the white Bronco chase and ending with that unbelievable acquittal.
That same period brought the Oklahoma City bombing, which broke our hearts. I lived in Atlanta when the Olympics came to town in 1996. We were supposed to pick up tickets for an Olympic baseball game the morning after the bombing in Centennial Park. I still remember how the media vilified Richard Jewell, a security guard who had actually saved lives.
I was having dinner with my dad and stepmother when news broke of Princess Diana’s death. We grieved again after the Columbine High School shootings. And the Clinton scandals—“I did not have sex with that woman,” and “It depends on what the meaning of the word is is”—became national punchlines that said a lot about the decade.
Tragedy and Resilience (2000s)
The contested election between George W. Bush and Al Gore briefly pulled me into politics. And then came 9/11. I still get sad thinking about it. I was across the street from Ground Zero one week after the attacks, praying with survivors. We went near the site with a woman whose husband had died that day. My brother was in the Navy when the Iraq invasion began; he warned me it would be far more difficult than the first Gulf War.
In 2004, the Indian Ocean tsunami felt distant but devastating. Hurricane Katrina, on the other hand, was close to home and breathtakingly tragic. Everyone was affected, even hundreds of miles away.
The housing collapse of 2008 helped usher in the election of Barack Obama, our first African-American president. And in 2009, the world mourned when Michael Jackson—the King of Pop and a huge part of my childhood—died of a drug overdose.
The Accelerated Age (2010s–2020s)
The years since have felt like yesterday and forever all at once:
- The Deepwater Horizon oil spill
- The killing of Osama bin Laden
- The tragic shootings at Sandy Hook
- The Boston Marathon bombing
- The election of Donald Trump
- The fire that nearly destroyed Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris
- The COVID-19 pandemic
- The widespread George Floyd protests
- The January 6 Capitol riot
- Russia’s invasion of Ukraine
- The death of Queen Elizabeth II and the ascension of King Charles
- The implosion of the Titan submersible
- The October 7 Hamas attacks on Israel
Some of these moments feel like yesterday, and others like a different lifetime. But they’ve all layered themselves into memory—proof that history isn’t just what’s in books. It’s what we carry.
Looking Back
When I think about all I’ve seen, I realize how blessed I am to have lived through so many chapters of the story. Some tragic, some thrilling, all unforgettable.
Copyright © 2025 Doug DeBolt.
