One morning this week, I received an e-mail referring to an event that happened in 1954. And that got me to thinking – what was I doing then?

I was a junior in high school and during a Civics class, the teacher said that the Supreme Court had decided segregation in schools was illegal. I remember exactly how I felt – totally confused and at sea. I hadn’t ever considered that school – or anything else – was segregated. And worse, for a teenager, I couldn’t get an answer from any adult on why this was so, how it could be – no answer that made sense to me.

So it was that we learned of another America.

In my home, we had never heard the ugly ethnic slurs about any race or religion. If any visitor made the mistake of speaking this way, my father quickly set them straight. To us children, such talk was as bad as swearing – we were forbid that, too.

It’s no wonder I became involved in the civil rights movement in the 1960s when many of my peers went to the southern states to help register people to vote – and others served in the Peace Corps. The equality seed was planted in my mind with that 1954 proclamation.

Being American – or rather Un-American – was the focus of other news during my high school years, when Sen. Joe McCarthy spewed his paranoia throughout the country with televised Senate hearings on un-American activities. I remember these well, too, because our family had just recently purchased a television set and I would scurry off Bert Jorgenson’s school bus to rush into the living room where I practiced shorthand by writing what the senators and accused had to say.

My reaction to McCarthy wasn’t spectacular. For all I knew, these poor accused people were really Communists. Of course I didn’t know what a Communist was at that time. We studied the American Revolution, but that was about as far as we got in high school in the 50s.

When it’s too hot to do actual work in the house or yard, remembering the past is a fine thing to do in front of a cooling fan. Watching the national news, it sometimes seems that not much has changed since the 50s, although I know it has. The murder of three civil rights workers back in the 60s, has been partially avenged with the conviction of one of the instigators.

Joe McCarthy’s witch hunts have been memorialized with the term “McCarthyism”, and even Watergate (which is history for most of our readers) is not totally forgotten and in my mind, at least, forgiven. The active participants still make the news from time to time.

History remains with us, as part of our daily lives. With the advent of summer, our local historical society has been kicked into high gear to respond to increasing questions about points of interest, family history and cemetery locations. Visitors stop by the society on Windham Center Road, and spend hours on research, and we’re delighted to be of service. The brick walls of the 1833 former town house, don’t allow much heat inside, so it’s a pleasant place to be, and to reflect on days gone by and what – if anything – we’ve learned.

Have a safe Independence Day, as you reflect on what it means. See you next week.