The Journey of a History Person

It all started because of Toy Story.  What an unlikely place to start a journey that culminated in me preferring to listen to men talk of tales of war than listen to women chat about normal, nice boring things other teenage girls would prefer.  But, yes, the story of this history person starts with Toy Story.

Like many families, my family got caught up in the Toy Story merchandise craze.  My little brother had Buzz, Woody, Rex, Slinky, Mr. Potato Head, etc. on down the line.  And I, desiring to be thorough, donated my Raggedy Andy doll to the mix because you need Andy if you're going to play Toy Story.  But something was missing:  Andy's little sister.

So I told my parents we needed Molly.  All I meant was we needed a doll I could name Molly, so we could have all the Toy Story characters.  In my six- or- seven-year-old mind, this was a logical request.  Next time we went to Toys R Us, we could get a Molly.

Instead, my mom came up with something better.  She reminded me how my friends (who were older than me) had American Girl dolls, and she somehow knew one of those dolls was named Molly.  I already had received a copy of Meet Samantha from a pen pal in America, so we did what one had to do back in the days of dial up connection and snail mail catalogs:  we tore out the order form and requested Pleasant Company to send us our catalog in the mail.

The day it came, and for many days and months afterward, I spent hours pouring over that catalog and the catalogs that followed.  But I always came back to Molly.  This was my dream doll.  My mom kept trying to redirect me to Kirsten because Kirsten looked like me.  But, no, I insisted I had to have Molly.  And all the books.  But for a doll, I needed Molly.

I saved up all my money for Christmas.  Every dollar that ever got sent to me, I turned right over to my parents saying it was for Molly.  Two dollars here, five dollars there.  I doubt I really raised most of the $80 it took to purchase her, but Christmas morning, I opened up my Molly doll--the most precious doll of my life.  And, furthermore, as I began reading through her books, I became slowly immersed in the era of World War II.

Granted, as I said, I'd already read Samantha.  But I didn't have a Samantha doll.  I had Molly.  So it is not Samantha's fault I was gradually sucked into the world of history.  It was Molly's.  World War II became the most important event in the history of ever, and as I read more American Girl books, things only got crazier as I began to ask questions like, "Is anyone still alive from the Civil War?"  (If people were still alive from World War II, then why couldn't people be alive from another one of the wars I'd learned about?)

Historical fiction became my favorite genre, although history was not my favorite subject in elementary school.  I much preferred reading.  History was okay, but it was little more than a footnote in my school day.

And then came junior high.

I flicked on my Bob Jones HomeSat videotape and within days found myself in love with my history teacher Mrs. Fagan.  Until college, no other history teacher managed to get me that invested in my history class.  No other teacher through twelfth grade could ever compare.  But after her, the teacher wasn't necessary.  I was hooked.  History gradually overtook reading as my favorite subject as I found myself enjoying, dare I say yearning, to learn more and more about this wonderful world.  The past drew me in like a fisherman with a hook.  I took in my lessons like a sponge.

My parents only encouraged me, especially my dad, who watched History Channel with me and introduced me to World War II films.  I was enamored with the past in a way that only other history people would understand.  I found myself more comfortable in a discussion about history than yet another boring conversation about whatever it is women talk about.  Honestly, half the things we women talk about when we're together is so boring, I forget it all.  But tell me a story of history, and although I may not remember our exact conversation, I will remember it was fascinating and intellectually stimulating.

And then came age sixteen where I read the Cheney Duvall series, and I found myself drawn into the world of Reconstruction and thus the Civil War.  And that was the final blow.  At this point, I became a full blown history person.  I have remained a Civil War buff to this day.

In college, I found myself once again with an amazing history teacher, which turned into an amazing series of history teachers after I applied for a history minor.  Now I was no longer someone who liked history.  I could legitimately carry the title of history person.  I could go to the history movie nights and had legitimate reasons to make history references all day long if I wanted.

And now I find myself teaching history for half of my school day.  It is a wonderful job, and oddly enough, I may not have been fascinated with the subject I am if someone at Pixar hadn't decided to name one minor character in a movie Molly.

Gettysburg Address

"Fourscore and seven years ago..."
87 years.  Really, had it only been eighty-seven years since fifty-six men had pledged their lives, fortunes, and sacred honor?  Was it really possible that there were men and women whose first memories were that of muskets firing at Redcoats had some of their last be of cannons firing at Rebels?

"...our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation..."
A new country.  A republic, unlike the monarchies, principalities, and empires of Europe and Asia.  This was a republic in a New World

"...conceived in Liberty..."
A country whose goal was freedom from a European power.  Free to be represented in the government.  Free to choose their leaders.  Free to travel where they wanted.  Freedom!

"...and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."
All men?  Powerful words to be written by a slave owner such as Jefferson.  But now, maybe, just maybe, the bloody conflict raging from Virginia to New Mexico would create a path for all men in this country to be seen as equal.  Yes, all men had been created equal, but this country did not yet treat them as such.

"Now we are engaged in a great civil war..."
Father against son, brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor.  The house was divided, and this way it could not stand.  And who would win?

"...testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure."
Oh, how Europe watched in interest as the American conflict raged.  Would this experiment in a republic last?  Or, like Rome, would the civil war cause it to fall?

"We are met on a great battle-field of that war."
A great battlefield.  This would become the great battlefield.  Those three early July days  cost the lives of over 50,000 men.  It was the bloodiest battle of the war.  Big Round Top.  Little Round Top.  Seminary Ridge.  Cemetery Ridge.  Devil's Den.  Peach Orchard.  Wheatfield.

Gettysburg Battlefield

My friend Cody and I at Gettysburg

"We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place..."
And such a small portion that is.  You walk the battlefield, see the memorials, tour the museum, imagine the carnage.  And then the cemetery is such a small part, almost insignificant in comparison to the expanse of the Gettysburg Battlefield.

"...for those who here gave their lives that this nation might live."
And the nation has lived.  The lives of these Union soldiers were not spent in vain.

"It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this."
And thank you for doing this.  Some may take it as a mere tourist attraction, but for a few, this battlefield represents a war that divided a nation so it could be united stronger than before.  No longer would the United States be plural but singular.  The war took the country from being an "are" to being an "is."

Pennsylvania Memorial

"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate--we can not consecrate--we can not hallow--this ground."
We are setting it aside, but why is this even possible?  Who did already dedicate this ground?

Iron Brigade Memorial

"The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."
 Those thousands of lives had already dedicated this ground.  They proved the North would fight when invaded.  Not all the men had chosen to fight, some had been drafted, but they had still accepted their lot in life and fought, and as such became part of the great struggle to preserve or destroy the Union.

Edward Everett's Speech

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
Oh sweet precious irony!  These words are still memorized by schoolchildren one hundred fifty years later.  Mr. Edward Everett's two hour speech lies largely forgotten, but Lincoln's two minute speech (or as much as we could piece together) is forever preserved and recited.  We remembered what was said there that November day.

Devil's Den

"...but it can never forget what they did here."
We cannot forget.  We must not forget.  If we forget history, we are doomed to repeat similar circumstances.  As history is pushed more and more aside in American education, will one day the sacrifices of Gettysburg, of the whole Civil War, of all wars, be forgotten to satisfy some legislation's vision of what children should learn?  NEVER forget the past.

"It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced."
How much war was left at this point?  No one could know.  The victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg had turned the tide in the Union's favor, but the South still fought.

"It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us..."
A task that would drag on for another two years and thousands more lives

"...that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion..."
America was to fight in memory and honor of those who served at Gettysburg, who had fought until their last breath or the final bugle called them off the field.  They fought until the battle was over.

"...that we here highly resolved that these dead shall not have died in vain..."
These lives were not to have been useless wastes.  Many could have had decades ahead of them, but had their lives cut short.  But they had fought for a cause--that the United States was one, and that no man needed be a slave.

"...that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom..."
And America would rise after four years of conflict as a united country under one flag.  The Revolutionary War had granted America its freedom from Britain, but this war would create a nation to see the need to work as a unit--North and South, East and West, black and white, rural and urban, factory and farm.  Their diversity would become their strength.  E pluribus unum.  And this nation would not be able to endure if it were not for the all-powerful God, Sovereign over all nations, choosing to keep it together.  "In God We Trust."

"...and that the government of the people, by the people, for the people..."
The people make a democracy.  We, although often deceived by empty promises and flashy campaigns, choose the leaders.  We call on these men and women to make the decisions we desire.  We can write and lobby them with what we feel as important.  We have a voice.

"...shall not perish from the earth."
Oh, all things will end, but a republic does not end unless the people want it to.  It is your job, my job, every American citizen's job, to keep our country running.  And this cannot be done without a reliance upon God to guide the country.  God creates and destroys nations, and the only way to make this nation endure is to rely upon Him--not upon politicians and petitions and protests, but upon the Prince of Peace.

Lincoln leaving stage after giving Gettysburg Address

Abraham Lincoln gave the Gettysburg Address on November 19, 1863, at the dedication of the National Cemetery in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.  He did not actually write hurriedly it on the back of an envelope on the train the night before but wrote several drafts.  The exact wording Lincoln used that day is lost to history.  Five copies exist in Mr. Lincoln's handwriting, each slightly differing.  His invitation to speak "a few appropriate remarks" at the event was almost an afterthought, but even Edward Everett acknowledged that Lincoln said more in his two minutes than Everett had said in his whole speech.  In fact, Lincoln's speech was so short that the photographer at the event had no time to take a picture before Mr. Lincoln began walking down the steps to leave the stage.

I Remember

You were already in bed before anything happened.  By the time your parents got the call, you were fast asleep in bed.  Your parents let you and your younger brothers sleep through the night.  After all, you were only eleven.  No sense in waking you up.

The next morning, you woke up at six thirty like normal.  You got dressed and set the breakfast table.  Did you start your math work early?  You don't remember anymore.  What did you do?  You don't remember having instant messenger yet, so you couldn't be doing that.  Come on, you didn't even have your own email address or Wi-Fi at this point.  All you remember is that this was as another ordinary morning.

You had no idea the world changed overnight.

It hadn't changed overnight for some people.  For most, it had changed suddenly while they were at school or work.  Most of the world knew everything was different, but you didn't know yet.

Your brothers were woken up with the usual amount of fuss it took.  Did you even eat breakfast before you knew?  Your memory doesn't seem to think so.  Your parents sit all three of you down on the couch.

"Something happened in New York."

They play the footage they recorded on a VHS tape.  You kind of understand what went on.  Four planes had crashed:  two into the towers of the World Trade Center, one into the Pentagon, and one in a field in Pennsylvania.  You see footage of people jumping from towers, running from enormous clouds of dust, bleeding, crying.  You see footage of the President speaking.

"Those people should go to jail," your five-year-old brother says after Mom and Dad explain it.

Your parents explain to him that these people are dead.

You're only eleven.  You understand this is bad, though.  Your mind goes back to Pearl Harbor.  You know this new event is just like that.  No one who lived through that day will forget.  You still remember you were sitting on the blue three-person couch in your living room in Asahikawa, Hokkaido, Japan.

You see footage of the President standing in front of the rubble, talking to the nation.  Firefighters raise a flag over the rubble--your generation's Iwo Jima moment.  Your country cannot be defeated so easily.

Your story is different because you were in another country than America, but you know in some ways it is the same as every other person of your generation.  You felt the world change.  You have friends who chose what they want to do with their lives based on the heroes of that day and the following days.  You share your story and emotions with anyone who wants to talk about it.

The day of 9/11 is the day of shared stories of lives changed instantly forever.

Yours is just one.

The Importance of Dolls

Jean Valjean gives Cosette the doll

“The doll is one of the most imperious needs and, at the same time, one of the most charming instincts of feminine childhood. To care for, to clothe, to deck, to dress, to undress, to redress, to teach, scold a little, to rock, to dandle, to lull to “sleep, to imagine that something is some one,—therein lies the whole woman's future. While dreaming and chattering, making tiny outfits, and baby clothes, while sewing little gowns, and corsages and bodices, the child grows into a young girl, the young girl into a big girl, the big girl into a woman. The first child is the continuation of the last doll.

A little girl without a doll is almost as unhappy, and quite as impossible, as a woman without children.”  (Victor Hugo, Les Miserables)

I'm reading through Les Miserables right now (The book so far is WAY better than the movie!), and I came across this quotation yesterday, and I must agree that it is completely true.  I have heard of girls who have little to no interest in dolls, but I was not one of them.  As long as I can remember, I have had a favorite doll.

I mean, I don't remember what my first favorite doll was.  My memory picks up somewhere with Alison.  I nthe picture above, she's the third Cabbage Patch Kid from the left.  If you struggle with left and right, she's the one with the word "third" below her.  Also, you should know that the Madeline doll next to her is the second Madeline doll I went through as a kid.  I kind of over-loved the first one, so she had to be replaced.  Anyway, my earliest doll memories include Alison; Amy (my Japanese doll); the first Madeline; Raggedy Ann and Raggedy Andy; and my Puffalump, whose name I've forgotten, so we'll just call her Baby, although I have a feeling Baby was someone else.  Actually several someone elses.  Also, I'm sure I had other dolls, but I can't remember them as well.

Super soft body; incredibly hard head in comparison

So, then I got Nicholas (labeled "second" in the above picture) when my first little brother was born.  And somewhere along the way for Christmas I got Get Well Baby, who may have had some other name, which I have also forgotten, who is not in the above picture because I think I had to get rid of her before we moved to Japan.  We kept her medicine and doctor stuff, though.  She was my favorite doll the week I had chicken pox.  Oh, and then Christmas of 1995, I got my last Cabbage Patch doll Nicole (labeled "first" above).

After we moved to Japan, I got Katelyn (a doll you could record voices on), Jocelyn, and one other doll who's name I've forgotten that was the type that peed when you put water in her, but my parents only let me do that once, which was probably a smart move.

I guess, in general, I just really, really liked dolls.  I mean, I haven't even gotten to the two dollhouses of my early childhood,

multiple Polly Pockets from back when they actually fit in your pocket,

 and Barbies that I didn't really play with a ton.

Ahem, anyway that is a really long picture introduction leading up to the ultimate level of my doll love.

My absolute favorite dolls were my American Girl dolls.  I got Molly when I was seven, and Kit when I was ten.

Molly and me

Kit

I mean, really, Kit and Molly were probably more important to me than all my other dolls.

The other dolls I used as Mr. Hugo described in his novel.  Or, rather, as a young child I played with dolls as if I were their mommy.  I fed them their bottles and changed their diapers.  I guess things changed after a while because I got lonely.  I didn't have a ton of friends after we moved to Japan.  I mean, I had a few, but none my age.  And then about a year and a half later is when I held Molly doll in my arms.  In first her and later Kit I found sisters.  Oh, yes, they were still dependent upon me for changing their clothes and such, but in this world there is a doll with long brown hair and gray eyes and another one with short blonde hair and blue eyes who received all the love a little girl who had no sisters and few friends could give.  In my imagination, they argued and agreed like sisters; they talked to me and listened to me when I would let no one else in.  These two dolls, although made of vinyl and plastic and cloth and whatever else, were my sisters when I had none, my confidants when I had no one else I wanted to tell stuff too.

Oh, during my Molly and Kit years, I picked up a few porcelain dolls, but Kirsten, Britta, Samantha, and Jolene (Yes, three out of four were named after American Girl characters.) never compared to my American Girl dolls.  I was absorbed into historical worlds that I still have no desire to escape.  My American Girl dolls are so much more than toys; they are my childhood.  They are what turned me from a child who knew little about the past of the world to one who loved history.  Yes, my dolls prepared me for motherhood as Victor Hugo prescribed, but through the company that sold me two dolls, I also bought dozens of books that taught me about my world both past and present.  Through a desire for a doll, I ended up gaining a desire to learn and, almost more importantly at the time of purchase, a friend.

So, in the end, a doll always has been and always will be more than a toy.  It is one of the most important items a girl can ever own.

World War II Reenactment Camp

Molly-ception

So, today, I finally got to check something off my bucket list.  Although I'm mainly a Civil War history nerd, I am also definitely a World War II history person.  I'm not as far gone into this, mainly because Civil War was what held my attention during college, but World War II is my first history love.  I fell in love with it thanks to my American Girl doll Molly back when I was seven years old, and I have not regretted falling in love with it since.  It handles my love of the Civil War just fine and knows it always hold a special place in my nerdy history heart.

Anyway, today I woke up and just could not sit still for some reason.  Like, really, I tried to sit down at the computer and work on the lesson for the Sunday school lesson I'm subbing for tomorrow, but my whole body was like, "Um...no," and I was more fidgety than Sherlock before going off to solve the case of the Hound of the Baskerville in the current BBC remake.

So, I finally decided that in order to burn my energy, I would go and buy a wedding gift for my friends' wedding in a couple weeks.  So off to Target I went in my penguin shirt that I almost never wear in public unless I forget I have it on and run off to the store.  When I was almost there, I remembered, "Oh yeah, today's the day I was going to go to the Civil War Reenactment Camp they've got set up near my house today!"  So I bought the gift and then headed straight over there, not even wanting to stop at my apartment and change into something else because IT'S HISTORY STUFF!!!  HISTORY!!!!!  (I may have a few obsession issues in this area.)

Yeah, so I get there (Oh, and I should also mention I'm in sandals, which I normally don't want to wear to this type of stuff because of the walking, but fortunately there wasn't too much walking), and it's like, "Where do I go first?  What do I do?  I LOVE HISTORY!"

So, basically, here's a summary of what I did:

German Camp

British Camp

Doctor Who References

Machine Gunners at American Camp

Free Food at USO Barn

Replica 101st Airborne Stables

Replica Pacific Barracks

Americans Capturing Germans

Soviet Tent

Germans Capturing Americans

 And then I had to go home and eat supper and call my dad for Father's Day because it was tomorrow already in Japan.  Then I got myself all prettied up...

....right down to my shoes...

...and went to the WWII USO-style dance, where I enjoyed the music and turned down the two reenactors who asked me to dance.

They also had a couple games to play, which I ended up participating in both because they were having a hard time finding volunteers (just like college).  The first game was musical chairs, and you could always jump back in after you got out, but after nearly sitting in a reenactor's lap once, I was done.

Also, I bought a cool hat:

So, basically, I got to talk with a bunch of cool reenactors (How do I know they were cool?  Because they're reenactors.  Yes, I know that's circular reasoning.  Deal with it.).  Especially the Soviet reenactor was really cool.  I mean, there aren't a ton of Americans lining up to be Soviet reenactors apparently, and then during the USO event, he got constantly teased by the American reenactors and the German reenactors.  Plus, he knew so much.  I was there the same time as this dad and kid, and they were Serbian (but no accent), and they asked a lot of good questions (and the kid, who was probably somewhere between seven and nine, knew a ton of stuff himself), so I got to spend a lot of time just standing there listening.

I also came partway into a reenactor talking about the 101st Airborne, who are pretty fascinating (even if you haven't watched Band of Brothers to give you a frame of reference; which I have seen that miniseries, and I basically would recommend it).

But, yeah, it's just a fascinating story, and to hear someone tell the real story after I'd seen the miniseries last year was SO COOL!  Like, standing there sometimes with my mouth just hanging open cool (Those who've sat near me in a history class know this expression.  It's the one where I've just been overwhelmed by the sheer awesomeness of what I'm being taught.)

Also, there was this lady who talked about the home front during the War, and she was one of those types who encourages you to keep passing on the stories of the past because they need to be.  That's why we have reenactments.  We don't want to lose our past, our history.  Be it good or bad, our history has made our world what it is today.  The seemingly smallest actions can have the most far-reaching consequences.  Our world today cannot be properly understood without understanding the history of what has shaped and formed the relationships among peoples and nations.  Yet, somehow, we choose to forget our history, either because our history teacher was boring, or the whole subject seemed irrelevant.  My dear reader, history is not irrelevant.  Without history, you would not be here.  (Think about that.  It's not as profound as it sounds.)  As my favorite history teacher often quoted, "History doesn't repeat itself, but it does often rhyme," and only by learning from history can we prevent some of the most terrible rhymes from happening again.  World War II is full of events we hope are never rhymed, yet if we forget what happened 70 years ago, terrible things will come again.  So take advantage of a historical event or a museum near you; go and learn something about history.  You might be surprised how fascinating the subject is.  It's full of things you couldn't invent if you wanted to, and you will forever be learning something new.

The Long and Illustrious History of Donuts!

HAPPY NATIONAL DONUT DAY!

Yes, my dear readers, in the long annals of days centered around random objects, today--the first Friday of June--is the one which we use to honor the King of All Pastries, Lord of the Deserts, Emperor of Breakfast, and Supreme Ruler of All Snack Foods--the donut!

No food substance has probably had as great an influence upon the history of mankind as the donut.  Because of its illustrious history, many questions have risen:  "Why is there a hole in the middle?"  "How do they get the cream inside the donut?"  "Is it spelled doughnut or donut?"  Fortunately, as both a History Minor and Former Activities Director for Judson Society The Society for the Preservation and Promotion of Donuts, I can answer all the above questions.  So, strap in and get ready as we take a trip through time, exploring the full history of this delicacy.

Sorry, it had to be done.

Sumerian chariot

To trace back the history of the donut thoroughly, we must also examine the history of the bagel, as these two originated from the same treat.  Recent archaeological excavations have proven the fact that this original pastry came as a result of the development of the wheel approximately four thousand years ago.  The ancient Sumerians were so overjoyed to learn that they could now hitch their donkeys and camels and horses up to a cart and haul their items around rather than carrying it on their backs, that they declared a national day of feasting.  Archaeologists suggest that this event fell slightly before the summer solstice and was originally observed on the sixth day of the week, which is the reason why millenia later Congress declared Donut Day to fall on the first Friday of June every year.  To celebrate the wheel, Sumerian bakers formed dough into the shape of wheels, and sold them to the rich who could afford it.  This treat was normally eaten plain, although it could be flavored with honey or various dried berries and fruit.  The poor, unlearned in the art of "wheel bread" making, desired to copy this trend among the rich and famous.  However, rather than shaping the dough into a wheel, they would cook the bread before punching a hole in it after the process was over.  The remains of the center were then fed to swine, dogs, and other unclean creatures.

The Colosseum

Through the conquests of the Babylonians and Persians, the recipes for wheel bread began to spread throughout Europe and Asia.  However, the trend largely died off in Asia because rice proved too difficult to mold into the proper shape.  In Europe, however, the trend managed to catch on.  In fact, some historians believe that the Latin panem et circum does not indeed mean that the Roman government held the masses attention by giving them bread and circuses.  Rather, this slogan refers to "bread in the shape of a circle."  This treat was distributed during Colosseum events as it was much easier to hold and munch on while watching the gladiators rather than attempting to wolf down an entire loaf.  A recently discovered document penned by Plutarch indicates that during one particular event, the Emperor had to remind the people to remove the wheel bread from their thumbs before indicating whether the victorious gladiator should slay his defeated foe as he could not see whether the thumbs were up or down.

However, with the Fall of Rome, the recipes for wheel bread were lost, and a sad time of history began known as the Dark Ages began.  People tried to reinvent the recipe, but to no avail.  Still the bakers persevered, knowing that somehow, the knowledge must return.

Kringle

The Danish were the first to make some headway in the matter, but their "kringle," although properly filled with all varieties of nuts and fruits, proved to be shaped more like an oval and less like a circle (hence the reason for the name "kringle," which kind of looks like the word for "circle," but not really).  Nonetheless, they were proud of accomplishing something before anyone else.  Sadly, by this time, the Normans had managed to take England back from the Danes, or else it is quite possible that the English would have taken this particular pastry with them when they settled the New World.  As it was, the kringle didn't arrive in America until the nineteenth century, and even then, has since remained nearly confined to only a few communities, the leader of which is Racine, Wisconsin.

Plain bagel

Despite Denmark's satisfaction with creating something somewhat circle shaped, the rest of Europe remained unsatisfied and continued toiling to reinvent the wheel bread.  A major breakthrough in Poland resulted in the wheel bread finally being reborn.  No one is entirely sure what "bagel" means in Polish, but most linguists are fairly certain that everyone mispronounces is spectacularly due to the fact the average person doesn't take time to actually bother with Polish pronunciation, which isn't as scary as you think once you get past all the random consonants being smooshed together and the letters that don't sound like they do in English.  Some say it means, "We finally reinvented something and can go down in history as significant!"  However, immediately after declaring this, they were overrun by an invading army...again.  Because the Europeans for many years were seriously obsessed with invading Poland.  This time, the invasion was to steal the recipe of the bagel so every country could make their own bagels.  However, even after obtaining the recipe, the conquering armies decided to stick around and rule for a while because, hey, who doesn't like ruling another country?

With the recipe of the bagel spreading throughout Europe, new fruits were added, and some people even began to discover the tasty benefits of spreading other items, such as cream cheese and salmon, on top of this treat.  Of course, with this information proliferating throughout Europe, eventually, the treat made its way to the American colonies.  It first arrived in New York City, where bagels became the latest fashionable food, and have remained so since.

Pioneers

However, the bagel was about to take on a new form.  After the American Revolution, as part of developing their own culture, Americans had a tendency to desire everything sweeter, everything more fried in grease, everything made unhealthier it had ever been, and the same fate was about to happen to the bagel.  And in one little Dutch kitchen in the early 19th century, a woman did just that to keep her husband happy and so "deep fried bagels" were born and soon became a staple at county fairs throughout the growing new country.  The original spelling of this treat was "doughnut" because the Europeans thought the Americans must be "nuts" to make such a thing out of "dough."  Americans embraced the term and soon began advertising their pastry as such.  The term "donut" either developed as the pioneers moved west where spelling was not taught until schools were set up or because pioneer wives frequently had to remind their children, "Do not [which sounded like 'donut' to young ears] touch the hot grease."

Adoniram and Ann Judson

Donuts became a favorite of many famous American people.  Abraham Lincoln liked to eat a donut as he strolled to the War Department to read the latest telegrams.  Pony Express riders liked donuts because they could eat them while they rode at breakneck pace across the prairie delivering the mail.  Christian historians even seem to find evidence that Adoniram and Ann Judson made donuts for when the Burmese natives visited their house.  Wherever they went, Americans brought the recipe of the donuts with them, espousing the convenience and deliciousness of the treat.

Japanese 5 yen coin.

After World War II, servicemen returning from the Pacific brought back with them coins from the countries they had visited.  Since many of them had been to countries influenced by Japan, they picked up a lot of Japanese yen coins.  Back at this time, donuts cost only a nickel, and once serviceman who had a habit of carrying his Japanese coins around with him, would on occasion accidentally offer his local donut store a Japanese five yen coin, which has a hole in the middle.  Usually, upon realizing his mistake, he would return the coin to his pocket, and hand the shopkeeper an American nickel.  However, one day, he had no other coins on him, so he just offered up the excuse that donuts have holes in them too, and left the store quickly.  This particular event inspired "The Donut Song," which has many variations, one of which is transcribed here:
Oh, I walked around the corner, and I walked around the block,
And I walked right into a donut shop.
Well, I picked up a donut, and I liked off the grease,
And I handed the lady a five cent piece.
Well, she looked at the nickel, and she looked at me,
And she said, "This nickel is no good to me.
There's a hole in the middle, and it goes right through."
I said, "There's a hole in your donut too!
Thanks for the donut!"
"You bet!"

As stated above, for centuries, mankind had for centuries been discarding the middle of the donut to swine and dogs and other poor creatures of the earth.  However, one enterprising young businessman decided he could make a profit by selling these donut holes to people.  Despite some initial hesitation on the part of the consumers, the trend eventually caught on, and soon donut holes were just as popular as the donuts they came from.

So, next time you sit down for a donut (which, by the way, are free at Dunkin Donuts today with the purchase of any drink and probably completely free at some other establishments), remember all that the donut has gone through in its development and history, and know you are not just eating a pastry.  You are partaking of a long and illustrious tradition of culinary work, which men struggled for centuries to reinvent and to present to you.  It's more than a snack.  It's a legend!

Editor's Note:  Katrina has a tendency to occasionally completely make up things when she has no idea what she's talking about.  Please do not actually trust her on most of what she says in this article.  The only thing you can be certain of is that there are indeed free and cheap donuts floating around America today, so now would be a good time to go and buy one.  Or, you know, sometime today.  Seriously, go and eat a donut.  That's what today is for!