One of the most important inventions of the 20th century became something so commonplace, so utterly taken for granted, that it hardly registers as a technological revolution. Plastic, until  a word for anything flexible, first became a practical item in 1909 with the announcement by inventor Leo Baekeland of a substance he called Bakelite. Two years earlier, he had made the first entirely synthetic material that was malleable and also cheap and durable. It was resistant to heat, chemicals, and electricity, making it especially useful in  radios and cars.

After World War II better plastics took Bakelite's place, and today it is best remembered by collectors of costume jewelry.

For the seven years of the Revolutionary War, New York City was in British hands. But when the war ended, in September of 1783, with the Treaty of Paris, the British had still not left. On November 20, 1783, George Washington entered Harlem, New York. The last of the British troops left our shores on November 25th. A celebration took place on that day for more than a century. Evacuation Day marks the final act of the war. The last shot of the conflict was fired by one of the 20,000 retreating British off Staten Island as they sailed home.

The British greased the flagpole that flew their ensign; John Van Arsdale became the hero of the day when he donned cleats to climb it to fly the Stars and Stripes.

At 5 am on the 11th of November, 1918, Germany signed an agreement with the Allies to stop fighting the Great War, now known as World War I. But it was not yet over. The Allies, including American commander General John J. Pershing, knew that the war would soon end, but decided to continue attacking German positions that morning. During the time between the signing at 5 and 11 o'clock, when the armistice was official, 3,000 more Americans died. The very last was Henry Gunther, a German-American from Baltimore, who was killed at 10:59.

"Almost as he fell, the gunfire died away and an appalling silence prevailed."

Related MW photographs:

Pershing's Shadow

In 1913, the Post Office began a new service called Parcel Post. For the first time anything, even live chickens, could go through the mail, as long as it was under 50 pounds. In 1914, Mrs. John Pierstroff bought 56 cents worth of postage for her 5-year-old daughter May and put her on a mail train. May made it to her grandmother's house in Lewiston, Idaho, 73 miles away. The Post Office immediately discouraged the practice, but several other children made it through the mail safely before the Post Office declared in 1920 that humans could no longer be posted.

On November 20, 1922 it happened again. This time the child was dead, mailed via Parcel Post to an undertaker in Albany, NY. The child was buried as Parcella Post because the parents were never discovered.

Orville and Wilbur Wright were dubious when Cal Rogers decided to fly from one end of the continent to the other. In 1911, they knew their machines were fragile and not fast. Top speed was 55 miles an hour. But "somebody's got to be first," Rogers said, and anyway there was the $50,000 William Randolph Hearst was offering. Rogers got a sponsor for the $18,000 worth of manpower and spare parts he needed. An ad for new sparkling grape drink, Vin Fiz, would be painted under the wings. During the 49-day trip, he crashed-landed 15 of the 70 times he touched down. Cal Rogers missed Hearst's 30-day deadline, but got the first.

Another pioneering aviator, Harriet Quimby, appeared in ads for the grape soda. Both flyers might be better known but for the fact that they each died in 1912.

The scepter as a symbol of power can be traced to classical antiquity. President Lyndon B. Johnson's scepter-like personal appendage made a separate rod unnecessary. Johnson liked to show it off in situations involving establishing a pecking order with himself at the top. He nicknamed it Jumbo and would ask "have you ever seen anything bigger than this?"  Not everybody was impressed by the display.

Johnson used another ancient symbol of power, the throne, and required subordinates to attend meetings there. His was made of porcelain.

They were young and in love. He was Jerome Bonaparte, the impetuous youngest brother of Napoleon I, about to become Emperor of France. She was Elizabeth Patterson, the beautiful daughter of a rich merchant of Baltimore. At just 18, she had persuaded her father to let her marry the 19-year-old visitor from France. But Napoleon would not accept his brother's American bride, ordering him home. Jerome complied, sailing for France with his pregnant wife. Napoleon would not let her embark on French soil, but Jerome again obeyed his brother. He let his American wife sail away and raise their child alone.

Elizabeth "Betsy" Bonaparte began a line of American Bonapartes. Her great-grandson, Charles J. Bonaparte, served as Attorney General of the United States under President Theodore Roosevelt.

 In July 1926, Donald Mellett's short reign as the editor of the Canton Daily News ended abruptly in his garage with a gunshot to the head. On the job less than a year, he was already making good on his promise to make the paper profitable. He had boosted circulation by publishing stories about the  corruption between the Canton Ohio police and the gangsters that ran the town. After Mellett's death, widespread outrage expressed by other newspapers helped bring in a private detective who solved the case. The police detective who arranged Mellett's murder went to prison for life, along with the trigger men. The police chief, initially accused by his detective of ordering the murder, went free.

In 1927 the Canton Daily News was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Mellett's work, but the paper also folded that year.