C.D.B. Bryan

A native of New York City, Bryan attended the Hotchkiss School in the class of 1954, and earned a Bachelor of Arts at Yale University in 1958.

His parents were Joseph Bryan, III and Katharine Barnes Bryan; after they divorced his mother married author John O'Hara.He served in the U.S. Army in South Korea (1958–1960), but not happily. He was mobilized again (1961–1962) for the Berlin Crisis of 1961.

He was an intelligence officer. He was editor of the satirical Monocle (magazine) (from 1961), Colorado State University writer-in-residence (winter 1967), visiting lecturer University of Iowa writers workshop (1967–1969), special editorial consultant at Yale (1970), visiting professor University of Wyoming (1975), adjunct professor Columbia University (1976), fiction director at the New York City Writers Community from (1977), lecturer in English University of Virginia (spring 1983), and Bard Center fellow Bard College (spring 1984). His first novel won the Harper Prize (1965). Bryan is best known for his non-fiction book Friendly Fire (1976).

It began as an idea he sold to William Shawn for an article in The New Yorker, then grew into a series of articles, and then a book. It describes an Iowa farm family, Gene and Peg Mullen, and their reaction and change of heart after their son's accidental death by friendly fire in the Vietnam War. It was made into a 1979 television movie of the same name, for which he shared a Peabody Award. It's also been cited in professional military studies. Bryan died from cancer on December 15, 2009 at his home in Guilford, Connecticut

Washington and Rochambeau

"When Washington and Rochambeau met in May 1781 in Weathersfield, Connecticut, to plan that year's last-ditch campaign, they knew few of [American General Nathaniel] Greene's successful activities and nothing of [British General] Cornwallis's decision to march his army into Virginia. Once the pleasantries - a military parade and formal dinner - were out of the way, the two generals and their staffs sat down to talk.

The discussions were frank and at times heated. After revealing the financial gift that his country was making to its allies, Rochambeau asked Washington what operations he envisioned for the coming summer.

To one's surprise [given his war-long obsession with retaking Manhattan], Washington urged a campaign to take New York, claiming that Clinton, [the British general in New York] was weaker than ever, having sent raiders to Virginia and reinforcements to the Carolinas. "Losing his patience - a French observer later said that Rochambeau treated Washington with 'all the ungraciousness and all the unpleasantness possible' - the French commander earnestly reiterated his objections to focusing on New York.

He then proposed a campaign in Virginia. Though unaware of Cornwallis's epic decision [to march north to Virginia], Rochambeau knew there was a British army of roughly thirty-five hundred men in Virginia. The allies would have numerical superiority. If they could trap the enemy force, the long-awaited victory that could break Great Britain's will to continue might be achieved. But Washington was intransigent. The allies must focus on New York. Washington 'did not conceive the affairs of the south to be such urgency,' the French general subsequently recalled. Given that Rochambeau remained under orders from France to defer to the wishes of the American commander, he consented to march his army from Rhode Island to the periphery of Manhattan, where the allies would prepare for a joint operation to retake New York."

Washington was delighted. He had prevailed, or so it seemed. The campaign for New York of which he had dreamed for three long years was imminent. After three days of talks, Washington bade farewell and rode back to the Hudson to await the arrival of the French army. But there was something that Rochambeau had not divulged. He had neglected to inform Washington that the French fleet in the Caribbean had been ordered to sail to North America that summer. Immediately following Washington's departure from Weathersfield, Rochambeau sat down at his desk and drafted a crucial letter to the Comte de Grasse, commander of the French fleet. He did not ask him to sail to New York.

Instead, Rochambeau urged de Grasse to bring the fleet to the Chesapeake. Unbeknownst to Washington, and in defiance of his wishes, Rochambeau was secretly planning what he believed would be a campaign that was more likely than an attack on New York to produce a decisive outcome. His object was to confront General Washington with a fait accompli."As the lush days of spring faded into high summer in 1781, three army commanders ruminated over strategy. Only Washington believed the allies could succeed in a campaign to take New York.

Rochambeau and Clinton - both lifelong professional officers, were convinced that the redcoats, having had five long years to prepare for the defense of Manhattan and Long Island, could repulse anything the allies threw at them, even a joint land-sea siege and assault. Indeed, Clinton prayed that the allies would attack New York. If their campaign failed, as he was certain it would, the will to continue hostilities would surely evaporate in France and America.

Great Britain would do very well at the peace conference that followed. In his wildest dreams, Clinton even imagined that Britain might win this war in the event of a failed allied campaign to take New York."[Washington yielded to Rochambeau, and the American army turned south and went to Virginia where it overwhelmingly defeated Cornwallis and ended the war.]John Ferling, The Ascent of Washington, Bloomsbury, Copyright 2009 by John Ferling, pp. 209-211

Hiram Percy Maxim




Hiram Percy Maxim of Hartford was the man who invented the ham operator, the Maxim silencer which was the first mass produced firearms silencer, the automobile muffler, and was a pioneer in air compressor technology. His father, Hiram Stevens Maxim invented the Maxim Machine Gun. His uncle, Hudson Maxim was an inventor of explosives and ballistic propellants.
Hiram Hudson toyed with the concept of a gasoline powered engine for an automobile and in 1899, raced the Pope Columbia, a gasoline-powered automobile, at the first closed-circuit automobile race in the US in Branford.
Maxim wrote a well received autobiography which was later adapted into the film So Goes My Life. He also penned Life's Place in the Cosmos, an overview of contemporary science that surmised life existed outside of earth. He died, unexpectedly, while returning home to Hartford in February, 1936, from a trip to California.

Ella T. Grasso

Connecticut’s first elected female Governor Ella T. Grasso was born in 1919. The Governor died in 1981

James Berman

Sportscaster Christopher James Berman AKA Boomer was born this day in Cheshire in 1955.

Laura Anne Ingraham

Conservative talk show host Laura Anne Ingraham in 1964. Ingraham grew up in a Glastonbury

John J Sirica

1904 John J Sirica US federal judge at the Watergate hearings was born in Waterbury Ct. to Ferdinand and Rose Zinno Sirica, both of whom were Italian immigrants

sewing needles

1866 1st US company to make sewing needles by machine incorporated, Connecticut

Mariette Hartley

Actor Mariette Hartley was born in Weston in 1940.

The Leatherman

The Leatherman (ca. 1839 – 1889) was a vagabond, originally from Lyon, France who was famous for his handmade leather suit of clothes and for traveling a circuit between the Connecticut and Hudson Rivers from about 1856-1889.
He lived in lean-tos, huts and caves and carried a large leather pack and in later years, he took to carrying a staff as well. From 1856 to 1882, he traveled the same route, from Canada and the Berkshire Mountains to Yonkers, New York. He usually stopped for food at the same houses. He also kept gardens along his route.
Among the towns he visited were Ridgefield, Georgetown, Redding, Danbury, Thomaston, Terryville, Bridgewater, Waterbury, New Britain, Old Saybrook, Guilford, Branford, New Haven, Stratford, Bridgeport, Trumbull, Norwalk, New Canaan, Stamford, Greenwich, Derby, Woodbridge, Naugatuck, Hamden, Southington, Wolcott. He avoided larger cities and towns, probably because he thought he might be heckled. According to historical accounts, he was once thrown into a horse trough and had liquor poured down his throat.
Although sometimes identified as Jules Bourglay, his identity remains unknown. He was born in Canada in 1839 of a French Canadian father and a Native American mother, although after his parents died he was raised by his grandfather. A copy of his photograph, mounted on a piece of cardboard, had been displayed in the Ansonia Library for years but has long since disappeared. Another photo can be found in the Derby public library. He stood 5” 7” and weighed 140 lbs.
He was dubbed the "Leatherman" because all of his clothes were handmade from discarded leather.
Living in rock shelters and "leatherman caves" as they are locally now known, he stopped at towns along his 365 mile loop once every 34 days for food and supplies.
The Connecticut Humane Society once had him arrested and hospitalized in 1888, which resulted in a diagnosis of "sane except for an emotional affliction" and release, as he had money and desired freedom.
He was said to be fluent in French but communicated mostly with grunts and gestures, rarely using his broken English. When asked of his background, he would abruptly end the conversation although he was believed to be Roman Catholic, since, when he died, among his possessions was found a French prayer book. He also declined meat on Fridays.
It is unknown how he earned money, although one store kept a record of his order: "one loaf of bread, a can of sardines, one-pound of fancy crackers, a pie, two quarts of coffee, one gill of brandy and a bottle of beer” etc. A popular figure around who was reliable in his rounds, people would have extra food ready for him, which he often ate on their doorsteps. In fact he was so popular, that when ten towns along the Leatherman's route passed ordinances exempting him from the state "tramp law" passed in 1879
In his later years, the people noticed a raw sore on his lower lip, and that his skin was cracked and oozing, probably from the blood poisoning from cancer that would eventually kill him. He used chew tobacco. Still, he refused help, even after he was arrested in order to be taken to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with the illness. He walked out of the hospital and towards the end, the cancer ate away the lower lip. His body was found in March of 1889 in his Saw Mill Woods cave near Ossining, New York.
His leather bag was found in North Bridgeport, and his ax in Woodbury.
He was buried at the Sparta Cemetery, Route 9, Scarborough, New York. His burial was paid for by an Englishman named Sampson Fisher-King Bennetts who claimed to have spent time with Jules in Nineveh, Ur and Paris. A stone marker was placed on his pauper’s grave in 1953, replacing the iron pipe that had marked it up until then.
His tombstone reads,

Jules Bourglay

Who regularly walked a 365 mile route through Westchester and Connecticut from
the Connecticut River to the Hudson living in caves in the years 1858–1889

The grave is inscribed “Jules Bourglay,” although this was later found to be fictional.
When he died, his obituaries made pages newspapers throughout the Northeast and the
name first appeared in a story published in the Waterbury Daily American on August 16, 1884, but was later retracted March 25, 26 and 27, 1889 and also in The Meriden Daily Journal, March 29, 1889.


"Consider the whale. Hunted since antiquity, by the nineteenth century it had become an economic engine that helped turn the United States into a powerhouse. Every square inch of it could be turned into something, so the whale afforded one-stop shopping for a fast-growing nation: material for the manufacture of paint and varnish; textiles and leather; candles and soap; clothing and of course food (the tongue was a particular delicacy). The whale was especially beloved by the finer sex, surrendering its body parts for corsets, collars, parasols, perfume, hairbrushes, and red fabric dye. (This last product was derived from, of all things, the whale's excrement.) Most valuable was whale oil, a lubricant for all sorts of machinery but most crucially used for lamp fuel. As the author Eric Jay Dolin declares in Leviathan, 'American whale oil lit the world.'
"Out of a worldwide fleet of 900 whaling ships, 735 of them were American, hunting in all four oceans. Between 1835 and 1872, these ships reaped nearly 300,000 whales, an average of more than 7,700 a year. In a good year, the total take from oil and baleen (the whale's bonelike 'teeth') exceeded $10 million, today's equivalent of roughly $200 million. Whaling was dangerous and difficult work, but it was the fifth-largest industry in the United States, employing 70,000 people.

"And then what appeared to be an inexhaustible resource was - quite suddenly and, in retrospect, quite obviously - heading toward exhaustion. Too many ships were hunting for too few whales. A ship that once took a year at sea to fill its hold with whale oil now needed four years. Oil prices spiked accordingly, rocking the economy back home. Today, such an industry might be considered 'too big to fail,' but the whaling industry was failing indeed, with grim repercussions for all America.

"That's when a retired railway man named Edwin L. Drake, using a steam engine to power a drill through seventy feet of shale and bedrock, struck oil in Titusville, Pennsylvania. The future bubbled to the surface. Why risk life and limb chasing underwater leviathans around the world, having to catch and carve them up, when so much energy was just waiting, in the nation's basement, to be pumped upstairs?

"Oil was not only a cheap and simple fix but, like the whale, extraordinarily versatile. It could be used as lamp oil, a lubricant, and as a fuel for automobiles and home heating; it could be made into plastic and even nylon stockings. The new oil industry also provided lots of jobs for unemployed whalers and, as a bonus, functioned as the original Endangered Species Act, saving the whale from near-certain extinction."

Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner, Superfreakonomics, William Morrow, Copyright 2009 by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner, pp. 142-143.

The Waterbury Wizard

James Anthony Piersall was born on November 14, 1929 in Waterbury. He is a former center fielder in Major League Baseball. Between 1950 and 1967, he played for the Boston Red Sox (1950, 1952-58), Cleveland Indians (1959-61), Washington Senators (1962-63), New York Mets (1963) and Los Angeles/California Angels (1963-67).
While he had a fairly good professional career as a center fielder, Piersall is better known for his well-publicized battle with bipolar disorder that became the subject of the movie Fear Strikes Out.Piersall led the Leavenworth High School (from Waterbury. Today, the school is an apartment house) basketball team to the 1947 New England championship, scoring 29 points in the final game.

Piersall became a professional baseball player at age 18, signing a contract with the Boston Red Sox in 1948.

He would reach the majors in 1950, playing in six games as one of the youngest players in baseball. In 1952, he earned a more substantial role with the Red Sox, frequently referring to himself as "The Waterbury Wizard", a nickname not well-received by teammates.

On May 24, 1952, just before the game against the New York Yankees, Piersall engaged in a fistfight with Yankee infielder Billy Martin. Following the brawl, Piersall briefly scuffled with teammate Mickey McDermott in the Red Sox clubhouse. After several such incidents, Piersall was sent to the minor league Birmingham Barons on June 28. The final straw came when Piersall spanked the four-year-old son of teammate Vern Stephens in the Red Sox clubhouse during a game.

In less than three weeks with the Barons, Piersall was ejected on four occasions, the last coming after striking out in the second inning on July 16. Prior to his at-bat, he had acknowledged teammate Milt Bolling's home run by spraying a water pistol on home plate. Piersall then moved to the grandstand roof to heckle home plate umpire Neil Strocchia.

Receiving a three-day suspension, Piersall entered treatment three days later at the Westborough State Hospital in Massachusetts. Diagnosed with "nervous exhaustion," he would spend the next seven weeks in the facility and miss the remainder of the season. According to his autobiography, Piersall blamed much of his condition on his father, who pressured him to succeed as a baseball player as a small child.

Nevertheless, not only would Piersall return to baseball by the opening of the 1953 season, but he finished ninth in voting for the MVP Award. The next year he became the Red Sox's regular center fielder, taking over for Dom DiMaggio and playing well enough to remain a fixture in the starting lineup through 1958.

He once stepped up to bat wearing a Beatles wig and playing "air guitar" on his bat, led cheers for himself in the outfield during breaks in play, and "talked" to Babe Ruth behind the center field monuments at Yankee Stadium. In his autobiography, Piersall commented, "Probably the best thing that ever happened to me was going nuts. Who ever heard of Jimmy Piersall, until that happened?"

Piersall was selected to the American League All-Star team in 1954 and 1956, largely due to his outfield play, which drew favorable comparisons to Joe DiMaggio. By the end of the 1956 season, in which he played all 156 games, he posted a league-leading 40 doubles, contributed 91 runs and 87 RBI, and had a .293 batting average. The following year, he collected 19 home runs and scored 103 runs. He won a Gold Glove Award in 1958.
On December 2, 1958, Piersall was traded to the Cleveland Indians for first baseman Vic Wertz and outfielder Gary Geiger. Piersall was coincidentally reunited with his former combatant Billy Martin, who also had been acquired by the team. The 1959 season would be a successful one for Cleveland, which battled the Chicago White Sox for much of the season before finishing a close second in the standings.

In the Memorial Day doubleheader at Chicago, he was ejected in the first game for heckling umpire Larry Napp, then after catching the final out of the second game, whirled around and threw the ball at the White Sox' scoreboard. He later wore a little league helmet during an at-bat against the Detroit Tigers, and after a series of incidents against the Yankees, Indians team physician Donald Kelly ordered psychiatric treatment on June 26.

After a brief absence, Piersall returned only to earn his sixth ejection of the season on July 23, when he was banished after running back and forth in the outfield while the Red Sox' Ted Williams was at bat. His subsequent meeting with American League president Joe Cronin and the departure of manager Joe Gordon seemed to settle Piersall down for the remainder of the season. Piersall came back during the 1961 season, earning a second Gold Glove while also finishing third in the batting race in with a .322 average. However, he remained a volatile player, charging the mound after being hit by a Jim Bunning pitch on June 25, then violently hurling his helmet a month later, earning him a $100 fine in each case. On September 5, Piersall's 74-year-old father died of a heart attack. Two days after attending the funeral, Piersall returned to play in New York only to be the target of continued fan abuse. During the September 10 doubleheader at Yankee Stadium, Piersall was accosted on the field by two fans, one of whom he punched before attempting to kick the other. Despite the minor eruptions, Piersall earned a $2,500 bonus for improved behavior, but following three hectic years in Cleveland, Piersall was dealt to the Washington Senators on October 5. His time in the nation's capital would not be long after his production declined, with the veteran outfielder then being sent to the New York Mets on May 23, 1963, for cash and a player to be named later. In a reserve role with the second-year team, Piersall played briefly under manager Casey Stengel. In the fifth inning of the June 23 game against the Philadelphia Phillies, Piersall ran the bases while facing backward (though in the correct order) after hitting the 100th home run of his career off Phillies pitcher Dallas Green.
One month after reaching the milestone, Piersall was released by the Mets, but he found employment with the Los Angeles Angels on July 28. He would finish his playing career with them, playing nearly four more years before moving into a front office position on May 8, 1967.
In a 17-season career, Piersall was a .272 hitter with 104 home runs and 591 RBI in 1,734 games. Piersall later had broadcasting jobs with the Texas Rangers beginning in 1974 (doing color and play-by-play for televised games,) and with the Chicago White Sox from 1977 to 1981, and was teamed with Harry Caray. He ultimately was fired after excessive on-air criticism of team management.
He became the subject of a movie based on his writings, Fear Strikes Out, where he was portrayed by Anthony Perkins (directed by Robert Mulligan, 1957). Piersall would eventually disown the film due to what he believed were its distortion of the facts, including over-blaming his father for his problems. Besides Fear Strikes Out, Piersall authored The Truth Hurts, in which he details his ouster from the White Sox organization.
Piersall, who winters in Arizona and still does a sports radio show in Chicago, was invited to a White House event honoring the 2004 World Champions Boston Red Sox on March 2, 2005. According to a Red Sox official, the White House prepared a guest list of about 1,000 for the event, scheduled to be staged on the South Lawn. "This is a real thrill for a poor kid from Waterbury, Connecticut," Piersall said. "I'm 75 years old. There aren't many things left." He also said he visited the White House once before as guest of President John F. Kennedy.

Poet Donald Hall

'I see no reason to spend your life writing poems unless your goal is to write great poems. To desire to write poems that endure -- we undertake such a goal certain of two things: that in all likelihood we will fail and that if we succeed we will never know it.' Donald Hall

Poet Donald Hall was born in Hamden in 1928. While a child, he recalled taking the bus into New Haven on Sundays to go to the movies theaters to watch the horror films he loved so much. One day a neighbor told him that if enjoyed horror so much he might enjoy the work of Edgar Allan Poe. Finding a copy of Poe’s works, they inspired him to write his first poem 'The End of All,', which is about death. He continued writing, practicing several hours a day. Hall attended Phillips Exeter Academy and Harvard (51) and Oxford. He eventually published a series of books of poetry (15 in all) and in 2006 was named poet laureate of the United States.

Roger Griswold

Matthew Lyon (Above)

One of the worst cases of bad behavior in political life happened in 1798 and involved an Irishman Republican Representative Matthew Lyon against a Connecticut Federalist Roger Griswold, after Lyons spat in the Griswold’s face. All this had been preceded by a round of insults with the entire ugly episode having started over Griswold’s assault on Lyons voting record from the house floor.
Griswold responded to the spitting and insults by striking Lyons about twenty times with a hickory cane, which prompted Griswold to respond with a pair of fire tongs. All this happened while other members of the house gathered round in a circle in watched the two men beat each other up.
Roger Griswold (May 21, 1762 – October 25, 1812) was governor of Connecticut and a member of the US House of Representatives, serving as a Federalist. Born in Lyme, Connecticut, he was the son of Matthew Griswold and Ursula Wolcott Griswold. His maternal grandfather, Roger Wolcott, his uncle, Oliver Wolcott, and his cousin Oliver Wolcott, Jr., had each served as Governors of Connecticut
A student of the classics, Griswold graduated from Yale College in 1780; studied law; was admitted to the bar in 1783 and opened a law practice in Norwich, Connecticut.
Eleven years later, he returned to Lyme and was elected as a Federalist to the US House of Representatives. He served from March 4, 1795, until his resignation in 1805. In 1801, he declined an offer to become Secretary of War (Defense) under President John Adams. His grandson, Matthew Griswold, would also serve Connecticut in the House.
In the last years of his term in office, 1803, Griswold and several other New England Federalist politicians, proposed secession from the union due to the growing influence of Jeffersonian Democrats and the Louisiana Purchase which they felt would dilute Northern influence.
Matthew Lyon (July 14, 1749 - August 1, 1822) was born near Dublin, Ireland. He learned his trade as a printer and in 1765, at age 15, immigrated to Connecticut. Arriving to the state as a redemptioner (An emigrant who paid for the voyage by serving for a specified period as a bondservant) Lyons worked on a farm in Woodbury, while continuing his education.
In 1774, the ambitious Irishman moved to Wallingford, Vermont and eventually organized a company of militia and served as its adjutant and was later commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in the regiment known as the Green Mountain Boys in July 1776.
He resigned from the Army in 1778 and became a member of the Vermont House of Representatives from 1779-1783, founded the town of Fair Haven, Vermont in 1779, operated various kinds of mills, owned a paper factory and a printing office and published the Farmers' Library, which would become the Fair Haven Gazette. He also returned to the state House of Representatives for ten years. (1783-1796.)
In 1797, after several defeats for office, he was elected to the US House of Representatives. Lyon problems with Griswold started after an exchange of insults which lead to the spitting incident on January 30, 1798. A group of members were chatting informally by the fireplace during a pause to count votes. Lyon, who was a rabid anti-Federalist, accused Griswold of opposing the interests of their constituents in order to enrich himself and noted that he owned a large printing company and might go after Griswold and the other federalists that way. Griswold, who was across the room heard the remark and shouted at Lyon “If you go into Connecticut,” you had better bring your wooden sword.” an allusion to Lyon’s Revolutionary War record.
The insult sprang from a rumor that Lyon had been forced to wear a wooden sword as a symbol of cowardice in 1776 after men under Lyon’s command had mutinied during an isolated and unpopular mission near the Canadian border. A military court investigated the matter and cashiered Lyon and his fellow officers, out of the service. It was a purely political decision made to restore discipline among the raw and undisciplined Continental troops. Lyon, for the benefit of the new Republic, accepted the courts decision and was later readmitted into the Army at a higher rank.
Lyon responded by spitting in Griswold's face. A Federalist member of the House immediately moved to expel Lyon and the House spent two weeks debating the momentous question. On February 14 the House voted in favor of expulsion by a party line vote of 52 to 44, short of the necessary two-thirds majority. For his part, Lyon issued an apology for his action.
Griswold decided to defend his honor on the morning of February 15, when, without any warning, Griswold rushed across the House floor to Lyon who was sitting at his desk writing a letter. He was armed with a thick hickory stick that he had purchased the day before with the single intention of beating Lyon senseless
In a letter, Griswold later described what happened “I gave him the first blow—I call’d him a scoundrel & struck him with my cane, and pursued him with more than twenty blows on his head and back until he got possession of a pair of tongues [i.e., tongs], when I threw him down and after giving him several blows with my fist, I was taken off by his friends.”
Representative George Thacher of Massachusetts recalled “I was suddenly, and unsuspectedly interrupted by the sound of a violent blow I raised my head, & directly before me stood Mr. Griswald [sic] laying on blows with all his might upon Mr. Lyon, who seemed to be in the act of rising out of his seat Lyon made an attempt to catch his cane, but failed--he pressed towards Griswald and endeavoured to close with him, but Griswald fell back and continued his blows on the head, shoulder, & arms of Lyon[who] protecting his head & face as well as he could then turned & made for the fire place& took up the [fire] tongs. Griswald drop[p]ed his stick & seized the tongs with one hand, & the collar of Lyon by the other, in which pos[i]tion they struggled for an instant when Griswald trip[p]ed Lyon & threw him on the floor & gave him one or two blows in the face”
The combatants were separated and Lyon walked over to the House water table, loudly making the statement “I wish I had been left alone awhile.” Griswold then re-approached him and Lyon came at him with a set of fire tongs, setting off a second brawl. Jonathan Mason commented that the incident caused the central legislative body of the United States of America had been reduced to "an assembly of Gladiators."
The ever arrogant Griswold later said “I might perhaps have given him a second beating but the House was called to order.”
Griswold, who was born to rank and privilege, ascribed Lyon's temperament to his working class Irish roots. In 1798, he wrote to a friend "The stories of his being sold for his passage from Ireland are likewise true--in short he is literally one of the most ignorant contemptible and brutal fellows in Congress--and that is saying a great deal."
As a result of the incident, Lyon had the distinction of being the first member of the House to have an ethics violation charge filed against him for "gross indecency" for spitting on Griswold, although the Ethics Committee recommended censure, the House as a whole rejected the motion to censure him while the blue blooded Griswold will forever be the first congressman to engage in a physical altercation with another congressman.
Lyon was reelected to Congress while in jail in 1798, after he was found guilty of violating the Alien and Sedition Acts, which prohibited malicious writing of the American government or its officials.
Lyon was the first person to be put to trial for violating the acts and charged with criticizing Federalist president John Adams and disagreeing with Adams' decision to go to war against France. He was found guilty and sentenced to four months in jail and ordered to pay a $1,000 fine and court costs. While in jail, Lyon won election to the Sixth Congress. In the election of 1800, it was Lyon cast the deciding vote for Jefferson after the election went to the House of Representatives because of an electoral tie.
Lyon left the Congress in 1801 and moved to Kentucky where he settled in Caldwell County (now Lyon County) and became a member of the Kentucky House of Representatives in 1802. He was reelected to Congresses in 1803 and was appointed United States factor to the Cherokee Nation in Arkansas Territory in 1820. he died Spadra Bluff, Arkansas, August 1, 1822.
Griswold served as a judge of the Supreme Court of Connecticut in 1807, Lieutenant Governor from 1809 to 1811 and Governor from 1811 until his death in Norwich. He is buried Old Lyme.

Gertrude Noone

Gertrude Noone was a 44-year-old insurance policy clerk for Travelers in Hartford, Conn., in 1943 when she enlisted in the Women's Army Corps.When she died peacefully at age 110 in September of 2009, at an assisted-living facility in Milford, Conn., she was the oldest known living military veteran in the world -- a fact that made her proud.

"Oh, she loved it," Deborah Woods, a grandniece, said Friday. "She felt it was important to serve when she did during World War II."Noone, who rose to the rank of sergeant first class, was chief clerk of the large dispensary at Ft. Myer, Va., by the time she left the Army in 1949. She then worked as an administrative assistant at a private psychiatric hospital in Stamford, Conn., until retiring in 1962.Bob Johnson, a retired Air Force lieutenant colonel who has spent the last 19 years helping World War I and World War II veterans receive recognition and awards, said the title of the world's oldest known living military veteran passed to Noone when British World War I veteran Harry Patch died July 25 at 111.Johnson first heard of Noone last fall and worked to have the Department of Veterans Affairs recognize her as America's oldest living veteran.

"As a World War II veteran," he said, "she was older than the two living World War I veterans living in the United States," Canadian-born John Babcock, 109; and Frank Buckles, 108.Woods, who praised Johnson's efforts in getting recognition for her great-aunt, said one of the highlights of Noone's life came in March when Secretary of the Army Pete Geren visited her at her home at the Carriage Green assisted-living facility.

Honoring her in recognition of Women's History Month and the Army's Year of the Non-Commissioned Officer, Geren called Noone "a woman who has served with great distinction.""What better representative of those two occasions," he is reported to have said.

"She has lived a life that has been part of the history of our country and our Army."One of 10 children, Noone was born Dec. 30, 1898, in Ansonia, Conn.All nine of Noone's siblings predeceased her.

The most recent was her sister Esther Balogh, who served as an Army nurse during World War II and died in 2003 at 103.Noone, who never married, lived with Balogh for many years until 2002, when she moved into Carriage Green, where she joined the gardening club and participated in a weekly exercise group.Although Woods said her "fiercely independent" great-aunt "was winding down a bit" over the last year, she continued to read the daily newspaper and watch CNN.

She also made a point of voting in the presidential election in November."She voted for John McCain," Woods said, "but she wondered if maybe he was too old to be president."

As for Noone, Woods said, "she never gave into age, never complained about anything. She was a very upbeat person, smart as a tack and had a very clever sense of humor."Indeed, Woods said, "she never thought of herself as elderly. She absolutely did not. Somebody told her once that she didn't look a day over 80, and she said, 'Do you think I look that old?' "Noone will be buried with full military honors today at Mount St. Peter's Cemetery in Derby, Conn.

The Connecticut River Valley trackways

The Connecticut River Valley trackways are the fossilised footprints of a number of Late Triassic dinosaurs or other archosauromorphs from the sandstone beds of South Hadley, Massachusetts. The finding has the distinction of being the first known discovery of dinosaur remains in North America. A farm boy, Plinius Moody, came across the trackways in 1802.

They were popularly regarded as bird footprints and they were so identified by the clergyman and president of Amherst College E. B. Hitchcock in his work Ichnology of New England (1858). They were of significance to the naturalist and supporter of Darwin, Thomas Huxley.
Huxley believed that birds evolved from an ancestral ratite, and the large Massachusetts tracks seemed to support this. However, when Archaeopteryx was discovered in 1861 it became apparent that the Connecticut River remains could not be those of birds and have since been reidentified as dinosaurs. Hitchcock had the trackways removed and taken to the Amherst College Museum of Natural History, where they are displayed.

The Connecticut Compromise

The Connecticut Compromise, also known as the Great Compromise, was an agreement between large and small states reached during the Philadelphia Convention of 1787 that in part defined the legislative structure and representation that each state would have under the United States Constitution. It proposed a bicameral legislature, resulting in the current United States Senate and House of Representatives.

On May 29, 1787, Edmund Randolph of the Virginia delegation proposed the creation of a bicameral legislature. Membership in the lower house was to be allocated in proportion to state population, and candidates were to be nominated and elected by the people of each state. Membership in the upper house was to be allocated in the same way, but candidates were to be nominated by the state legislatures and elected by the members of the lower house. This proposal was known as the Virginia Plan.

Less populous states like Delaware were afraid that such an arrangement would result in their voices and interests being drowned out by the larger states. Many delegates also felt that the Convention did not have the authority to completely scrap the Articles of Confederation, as the Virginia Plan would have. In response, on June 15, 1787, William Paterson of the New Jersey delegation proposed a legislature consisting of a single house. Each state was to have equal representation in this body, regardless of population.

The New Jersey Plan, as it was called, would have left the Articles of Confederation in place, but would have amended them to somewhat increase Congress' powers. On July 16, 1787, Roger Sherman and Oliver Ellsworth, both of the Connecticut delegation, forged a compromise for a bicameral, or two-part, legislature consisting of a lower and upper house.

In favor of the larger states, membership in the lower house, as in the Virginia Plan, was to be allocated in proportion to state population and candidates were to be nominated and elected by the people of each state. A census of all inhabitants of the United States was to be taken every 10 years. Also all bills for raising taxes, spending or appropriating money, and setting the salaries of Federal officers were to originate in the lower house and be unamendable by the upper house.

In exchange, membership in the upper house, however, was more similar to the New Jersey Plan and was to be allocated two seats to each state, regardless of size, with members being chosen by the state legislatures. Members of the Upper House, or Senators, were elected by the State Legislature until the ratification of the Seventeenth Amendment, which called for the direct election of Senators by the people.

The compromise passed after eleven days of debate by one vote — five to four.

By and large the compromise was accepted into the final form of the U.S. Constitution. The provision that all fiscal bills should start in the House was incorporated as Art. 1, §7, Clause 1 (known as the Origination Clause), albeit in a limited form applying only to tax bills and allowing the Senate to amend.

This agreement allowed deliberations to continue and thus led to the Three-Fifths Compromise, which further wrangled the issue of popular representation in the House. More populous Southern States were allowed to count three-fifths of all non-free, non-Native American people towards population counts and allocations.

Erich Kunzel

Erich Kunzel, Jr. (March 21, 1935 – September 1, 2009) was an orchestra conductor and longtime leader of the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra. Kunzel was born to German-American immigrant parents in New York City but raised in Connecticut. At Greenwich High School in Connecticut, he arranged music and played the piano, string bass, and timpani. Initially a chemistry major, Kunzel graduated from Dartmouth College with a degree in music, then studied at Harvard and Brown universities. Early in his career, he conducted for the Santa Fe Opera and studied at the Pierre Monteux School.[2] From 1960 to 1965, he conducted the Rhode Island Philharmonic. From 1965 to 1977, Kunzel served as resident conductor of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra.
When the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra board of trustees created the Cincinnati Pops Orchestra (CPO) in 1977, Kunzel was named conductor. His popular recordings of classical music on the Telarc label were mostly made as director of the CPO. During this time he was leader of the 8 o'clock popular concert series. He also made jazz recordings with Dave Brubeck and Duke Ellington. Kunzel also conducted the National Symphony Orchestra in televised concerts every Memorial Day and every Fourth of July until he was diagnosed with terminal cancer.
Since then Erich Kunzel's efforts made the "Pops" into an internationally known ensemble with half a dozen best-selling recordings a year and almost weekly subscription concerts. Once a major contender to succeed Arthur Fiedler at the Boston Pops, his popular recordings of classical music, Broadway musicals, and movie scores topped worldwide crossover charts more than any other conductor or orchestra in the world. The Cincinnati Pops are particularly popular in Asia, where they have toured several times. In 1984, Kunzel expanded the Pops program to include a summer concert series at a newly-built Riverbend Music Center.
In April 2009, Kunzel was diagnosed with pancreatic, liver and colon cancer and received chemotherapy treatments in Cincinnati. He died September 1, 2009 at Bar Harbor, Maine, near his home at Swan's Island.

Dominick Dunne, author and former Hollywood producer, dies at 83

Dominick Dunne, author and former Hollywood producer, dies at 83

By Elaine Woo, Los Angeles Times

He was notorious for his skewering accounts of the trials of celebrities including Claus von Bulow, the Menendez brothers and O.J. Simpson. He was diagnosed with bladder cancer last year. Dominick Dunne, the bestselling novelist and Vanity Fair writer who chronicled the misdeeds of the rich and famous with wicked glee -- most memorably in his highly personal accounts of the trials of Claus von Bulow, the Menendez brothers and O.J. Simpson -- died Wednesday at his home in New York City. He was 83.
The cause was bladder cancer, according to the Vanity Fair website, where his death was announced. Dunne had recovered from prostate cancer in 2001 but was diagnosed with bladder cancer last year. Although ill, he covered Simpson's recent armed robbery trial in Las Vegas, which resulted in a pronouncement of guilt -- a verdict that Dunne awaited for more than a decade.
Covering the last Simpson trial capped an extraordinary career that had bloomed from tragedy. Dunne was a television and film producer for two decades until drugs and alcohol ruined him. He had started life over as a writer when his daughter, Dominique, was slain in 1982.
Dunne wrote an article for Vanity Fair magazine that raged at the injustice of the crime and the leniency of the killer's punishment. The story propelled its author into a new career reporting from the intersection of celebrity, society and scandal. He filled the niche with panache, becoming, according to the Cambridge History of Law in America, "one of the nation's premier popular chroniclers of notorious criminal trials and lawsuits involving celebrities."
He wrote a column, "Dominick Dunne's Diary" and hosted a Court TV program, "Power, Privilege and Justice." His absorption with money and privilege led one writer to call him the "Boswell of the bluebloods," while another less charitable critic dubbed him "the Jacqueline Susann of journalism."
What was indisputable was that Dunne -- with his silver hair, tortoiseshell glasses and Turnbull & Asser finery -- became a celebrity in his own right, sympathizing with crime victims, skewering the perpetrators and riding in limousines to his front-row seat at their trials.
He unabashedly declared his belief that Simpson was guilty of the 1994 slayings of his ex-wife, Nicole, and her friend, Ron Lyle Goldman. He disparaged Erik and Lyle Menendez, the handsome brothers convicted of shooting their parents to death at their Beverly Hills mansion. Dunne slyly dissected Phil Spector, the eccentric record producer convicted of murder this year, calling him "a drama queen, albeit straight."
When Dunne wasn't covering a sensational trial, he was writing intimate profiles of movie stars, socialites and newsmakers -- "the only person writing about high society from inside the aquarium," former Vanity Fair editor Tina Brown once said. Many of his subjects were friends from his previous life, such as Elizabeth Taylor and Gloria Vanderbilt. Others were highly placed friends of friends, such as former Philippines First Lady Imelda Marcos, who gave him an exclusive interview shortly after she and her husband took up life in exile, and Lily Safra, the international jet-setter whose banker-husband Edmond was killed in a suspicious fire.
Like Truman Capote, another social chronicler, Dunne often bit the well-manicured hands that fed him. A friend of Alfred and Betsy Bloomingdale of the department store fortune, he turned Alfred's relationship with his mistress, Vicki Morgan, into a roman a clef, "An Inconvenient Woman" (1990). Similarly, Dunne, who had been a guest at the 1950 wedding of Robert F. Kennedy and Ethel Skakel, turned his theories about the culpability of Ethel's nephew, Michael Skakel, in a long-unsolved slaying into another novel, "A Season in Purgatory" (1993). Skakel ultimately was tried and convicted. His cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr., blamed Dunne for the conviction and told talk show host Larry King that the writer was "not a journalist. He's a gossip columnist."
If, as Capote said, all literature is gossip, Dunne was a believer. He loved to "dish," giving rumor equal time with news in his Vanity Fair reports. His story on the Safra slaying, for instance, was an engrossing brew of fact and rank speculation as only Dunne could produce. He repeated hearsay and used unnamed sources liberally, such as a "well-connected woman once married to a prominent figure in the film world" or "a waiter serving me risotto" at a dinner party. Dunne had everyone whispering in his ear.
His willingness to entertain nearly any source made him the target of an $11-million defamation lawsuit by former California Rep. Gary Condit after Dunne told a bizarre, unsubstantiated story on national television and radio programs that implicated Condit in the 2001 disappearance of Washington intern Chandra Levy. He apologized to Condit and paid an undisclosed sum to settle the lawsuit in 2005.
Born Oct. 29, 1925, he was the second of six children in a wealthy Hartford, Conn., family. One of his brothers was John Gregory Dunne, the late screenwriter and novelist who was married to another literary celebrity, Joan Didion.
His early life was marked by a poor relationship with his father, a prominent heart surgeon, who belittled his son for being a sissy. Dunne himself professed astonishment when he earned a Bronze Star during World War II for rescuing a wounded soldier at the Battle of the Bulge.
After earning his bachelor's degree at Williams College in Massachusetts in 1949, he moved to New York and found work as a stage manager for the "Howdy Doody Show" and later for "Robert Montgomery Presents."
In 1954, he married Ellen Griffin, an heiress. They had two sons, Griffin and Alexander, in addition to Dominique. Two children, both girls, died within days of being born. Ellen Griffin Dunne, from whom he was divorced in 1965, died in 1997. He is survived by his sons and a granddaughter, Hannah.
In 1957, Dunne moved to Los Angeles to work on the CBS showcase "Playhouse 90." Two years later he was executive producer of the ABC drama "Adventures in Paradise."
By 1970, he was producing films. His credits include "The Boys in the Band" (1970), "The Panic in Needle Park" (1971), "Play It as It Lays" (1972) -- based on the Didion novel of the same name -- and "Ash Wednesday" (1973).
He and his wife hosted lavish parties at their Beverly Hills home, most notably a black-and-white ball for their 10th wedding anniversary in 1964 with a guest list that included Nancy and Ronald Reagan, Natalie Wood, David Niven, Billy Wilder, Gina Lollobrigida and Capote, whose fame was about to peak as the author of "In Cold Blood." The party inspired Capote to give his own black-and-white ball two years later at New York's Plaza Hotel, a legendary affair that included 500 of the biggest names in literature, Hollywood and society. "He didn't invite us," Dunne noted whenever he told the story.
Another favorite Dunne story took place at the Daisy, a Rodeo Drive club popular with the Hollywood set. He was dining there one night in the 1960s when Frank Sinatra, with whom he'd had a testy relationship, paid a waiter to punch him in the face.
Although Dunne led a famous person's life, he felt like an impostor whose success did not match that of his peers. "Within me, I knew I would never be a first-rate producer. I wasn't tough enough," he wrote in Vanity Fair's 25th anniversary issue last October. His social ambitions ruined his marriage, and he began drinking excessively and abusing drugs. In 1969, he was arrested for possession of marijuana.
The final act in his self- destruction was when he told an offensive joke about the powerful Hollywood agent Sue Mengers and the Hollywood Reporter printed it. That was when he knew that "my demise as a film producer was imminent." He had no more work and was so broke he sold his dog.
"When you're down and out, there's no meaner place to live than Hollywood. You can get away with your embezzlements and your lies and your murders, but you can never get away with failing," Dunne said years later.
In 1979, he left Hollywood and drove to Oregon. He decided to stay, stopped drinking and using drugs, and contemplated his failures. One night he went to bed with a knife beside him, intending to kill himself, only to be jarred awake by a phone call telling him that his youngest brother, Stephen, had committed suicide.
After his brother's funeral, Dunne decided to start over in New York as a writer. He had gotten the idea a few years earlier, after a chance encounter in the Beverly Hills Hotel with a Washington Post writer who went to college with Stephen. The reporter came to Los Angeles to investigate reports that David Begelman, then head of Columbia Pictures, had been embezzling funds by forging the signatures of some of its top stars -- most notably Cliff Robertson -- on studio checks. No one in Hollywood would return the reporter's calls so he asked for Dunne's help.
"Nothing could have pleased me more," Dunne recalled in his 1999 memoir, "The Way We Lived Then: Recollections of a Well-Known Name Dropper." "I knew all the players. I knew all the phone numbers. I knew everyone's back story. And I was furious that I had become a reject." He found the investigative work exhilarating and told himself that he "could do what these reporters do."
His first assignment was to write "The Winners," a sequel to gossip columnist Joyce Haber's popular novel "The Users." Released in 1982, it was poorly reviewed but for Dunne it wasn't a bad start. Then came the tragedy that would define the second half of his life: His actress-daughter, Dominique, 22, was strangled by her boyfriend, John Sweeney, a chef at a tony West Hollywood restaurant.
The day before Dunne flew to Los Angeles for Sweeney's trial, he attended a dinner party where he met Brown, who had just taken over as editor of Vanity Fair. She asked him to keep a journal during the trial and come see her when it was over. "If I hadn't kept that journal, as Tina suggested, I would have gone mad," Dunne later wrote. "What I saw in the courtroom filled me with the kind of rage that only writing about it could quell."
The 1984 article that his journal became, "Justice: A Father's Account of the Trial of His Daughter's Killer," was a powerfully dry-eyed indictment of the legal proceedings that found Sweeney guilty of the lesser charge of voluntary manslaughter.
Dunne signed a long-term contract with Vanity Fair but also tackled fiction again, this time producing a bestseller, "The Two Mrs. Grenvilles" (1985), based on the sensational Woodward murder case in 1955. His last novel, "Too Much Money," is scheduled for release in December.
"He was unique," veteran Associated Press trial reporter Linda Deutsch told The Times recently. "He always said, 'I'm for the victims.' "
Dunne wore his sympathy for victims of heinous crimes like a badge of honor. "I made no pretense of doing balanced reporting about murder," he wrote in his memoir. "I was appalled by defense attorneys who would do anything to win an acquittal for a guilty person."
He reported the juicy details that others ignored -- how Menendez defense lawyer Leslie Abramson strode down a courthouse corridor giving the finger to the swarm of photographers following her and how fans sent bouquets to Simpson prosecutor Marcia Clark. He also was a wily analyst of character, revealing mores, conceits and other flaws through well-observed details and scenes in which he was as much a participant as a reporter.
After Von Bulow's acquittal in a 1985 retrial on charges he attempted to kill his wife with insulin injections, Dunne interviewed the aristocratic former defendant at the opulent apartment on New York's Fifth Avenue that he was then sharing with the woman Dunne described as his "self-proclaimed" mistress, Andrea Reynolds. In a surreal scene, Dunne found himself following Reynolds into Sunny von Bulow's former bedroom, where Reynolds had expensive garments laid out on the bed. It seemed to Dunne the appropriate moment to ask about the rumors he'd heard: Was it true that as Sunny Von Bulow lay unconscious in a nursing facility Reynolds wore her clothes and jewels?
"Not true!" she told Dunne. "I have far better jewels than Sunny von Bulow ever had."
Dunne's stories were filled with revelations such as these. "He was a great listener," said New Yorker writer Jeffrey Toobin, who became friends with Dunne during the first Simpson trial. "People just loved to talk to him."
When the Simpson trial opened in 1995, Dunne's sympathy for the victims was so well-known that Judge Lance Ito assigned him a front-row seat in the courtroom. Reporters for major newspapers, including The Times, were relegated to the rear. One annoyed reporter called Dunne "Judith Krantz in pants."
Privileged or not, Dunne worked very hard, always arriving at the courthouse early and recording every wink and nod. Dunne's insider accounts of the Simpson trial for Vanity Fair and commentaries on Court TV elevated him to a new echelon of celebrity. He covered the proceedings by day and dined out on them at night, entertaining the likes of Elizabeth Taylor, Nancy Reagan and Princess Diana with stories from the so-called trial of the century. "O.J. Simpson improved my social position," he told USA Today in 1997. His obsession with the case inspired “Another City, Not My Own” (1997), a "novel in the form of a memoir" based on his involvement in the Simpson murder trial.
Dunne felt it was fitting that Simpson's armed robbery trial should be the last one he would cover. The octogenarian attended the trial against doctors' orders, unable to resist what promised to be the final curtain in a protracted saga.
"I've lived this very dramatic life, with high points and terrible low points," he told a London paper as the trial drew to a close. "Nothing has been ordinary, and I want to have the experience of the last breath. I want a little drama to it. I don't want to die under anesthesia. I'd rather be shot to death in the Plaza or Monte Carlo by Lily Safra. I want something in the papers."

Gene Pitney

Gene Pitney hailed from Hartford but grew up in Vernon. Not only was Pitney a future member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (2002), he was an accomplished songwriter, guitarist, pianist, and sound engineer. Pitney enjoyed much success as a performer, cranking out more than twenty Top 40 hits at a time when most other American acts were being pushed aside by the British Invasion.

He didn’t fight the trend, he joined it by working on several of the earliest recordings of the Rolling Stones. Pitney’s first hit came in 1961 with “Town Without Pity” from the film of the same name. He sang it at the Academy Awards ceremony, being the first pop singer to perform at the event.

His hits as a singer or songwriter continued with a vengeance. He can count the following as his own (as a writer or singer): “He’s A Rebel,” “Hello Mary Lou,” “Rubber Ball,” Today’s Teardrops,” and “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.” He even gave songwriters Mick Jagger and Keith Richards their first Top 10 hit with his version of “That Girl Belongs To Yesterday.”

Pitney continued to record and perform throughout the rest of his life until he died of natural causes in his hotel room while on a tour of the UK in 2006. He was 66.

Noted in passing

Jack Lawrence (96) former podiatrist who wrote lyrics for songs, many of which became hits. Lawrence's biggest hits include "If I Didn't Care" (1939; first hit for the Ink Spots), "All or Nothing at All" (1943; No. 1 song for Frank Sinatra and the Harry James Orchestra), "Linda" (1947; commissioned by Lee Eastman, father of Linda Eastman, who grew up to marry Beatle Paul McCartney), and "Tenderly" (1947; a hit for Sarah Vaughan and Rosemary Clooney). Lawrence died of renal failure and complications from a fall, in Danbury, Connecticut on March 15, 2009.

Michael V. O'Hare (73) bookkeeper to former US Sen. Thomas J. Dodd (D-Conn., d. 1971), a whistle-blower whom the senator mainly held to blame in a case that ultimately led the Senate to censure Dodd, father of current Sen. Chris Dodd, in 1967 for using campaign money for his personal benefit. O’Hare died of a stroke in Chapel Hill, North Carolina on March 15, 2009.

Dave Mahan (61) member of an investors' group that owned 2003 Kentucky Derby winner Funny Cide. Mahan was a Waterbury caterer and a principal of Sackatoga Stable. He owned a 20% interest in Funny Cide, the first New York-bred horse to win the Kentucky Derby—and the first gelding since Clyde van Dusen in 1929. Mahan suffered from a brain tumor and had been hospitalized since Dec. 26. He died in Waterbury, Connecticut on January 14, 2009.

Hiram Bingham III

Hiram Bingham III, (November 19, 1875 – June 6, 1956) was an academic, explorer and politician. He rediscovered the Inca settlement of Machu Picchu in 1911. Later, Bingham served as a member of the United States Senate.Bingham is descended from Deacon Thomas Bingham who had come to the American colonies in 1650 and settled in Connecticut

Bingham was born in Honolulu, Hawai'i, to Hiram Bingham II (1831–1908), an early Protestant missionary to the Kingdom of Hawai'i, the grandson of Hiram Bingham I (1789–1869), another missionary. He attended O'ahu College, now known as Punahou School in Hawai'i from 1882 to 1892. He went to the United States in his teens in order to complete his education, entering Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, from which he graduated in 1894.

He obtained a degree from Yale University in 1898, a degree from the University of California, Berkeley in 1900, and a degree from Harvard University in 1905. While at Yale, Bingham was a member of Acacia Fraternity. He taught history and politics at Harvard and then served as preceptor under Woodrow Wilson at Princeton University. In 1907, Yale University appointed Bingham III as a lecturer in South American history.

Bingham was not a trained archaeologist. Yet, it was during Bingham's time as a lecturer – later professor – at Yale that he discovered the largely forgotten Inca city of Machu Picchu. In 1908, he had served as delegate to the First Pan American Scientific Congress at Santiago, Chile. On his way home via Peru, a local prefect convinced him to visit the pre-Columbian city of Choquequirao. Bingham published an account of this trip in Across South America; an account of a journey from Buenos Aires to Lima by way of PotosĂ­, with notes on Brazil, Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, and Peru (1911).

Bingham was thrilled by the prospect of unexplored Inca cities, and in 1911 returned to the Andes with the Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. On 24 July 1911, Melchor Arteaga led Bingham to Machu Picchu, which had been largely forgotten by everybody except the small number of people living in the immediate valley (possibly including two local missionaries named Thomas Payne and Stuart McNairn whose descendants claim that they had already climbed to the ruins in 1906).

Bingham returned to Peru in 1912 and 1915 with the support of Yale and the National Geographic Society. Machu Picchu has become one of the major tourist attractions in South America, and Bingham is recognized as the man who brought the site to world attention, although many others helped to bring this site into the public eye. The switchback-filled road that carries tourist buses to the site from the Urubamba River is called the Hiram Bingham Highway.

Bingham has been cited as one possible basis for the 'Indiana Jones' character, His book Lost City of the Incas became a bestseller upon its publication in 1948. Peru has long sought the return of the estimated 40,000 artifacts, including mummies, ceramics and bones, Bingham had removed from the Machu Picchu site. On September 14 2007, an agreement was made between Yale University and the Peruvian government for the return of the objects. though on April 12, 2008 the Peruvian government stated that they had revised previous estimates of 4,000 pieces up to 40,000.

Soon after Bingham announced the existence of Machu Picchu others came forward claiming to have seen the city first, such as the British missionary Thomas Payne and a German engineer named J. M. von Hassel.[4] Recent discoveries have put forth a new claimant, a German named Augusto Berns who bought land opposite the Machu Picchu mountain in the 1860s and then tried to raise money from investors to plunder nearby Incan ruins. An 1874 map shows the site of Machu Picchu

Bingham achieved the rank of captain of the Connecticut National Guard in 1916. In 1917, he became an aviator and organized the United States Schools of Military Aeronautics. He served the Aviation Section, U.S. Signal Corps and the Air Service, attaining the rank of lieutenant colonel. In Issoudun, France, Bingham commanded the primary Air Service flying school.

In 1922, Bingham was elected Lieutenant Governor of Connecticut, an office he held until 1924.
In November 1924, he was elected Governor. On December 16, 1924, Bingham was also elected as a Republican to serve in the United States Senate to fill a vacancy created by the suicide of Frank Bosworth Brandegee. Bingham defeated noted educator Hamilton Holt by a handy margin. Now both Governor-elect and Senator-elect, Bingham served as Governor for one day, the shortest term of any Connecticut Governor.
Bingham was re-elected to a full six-year term in the Senate in 1926.

Senator Bingham was Chairman of the Committee on Printing and then Chairman of the Committee on Territories and Insular Possessions. President Calvin Coolidge appointed Bingham to the President's Aircraft Board during his first term in the Senate; the press quickly dubbed the ex-explorer "The Flying Senator".

Bingham failed in his second reelection effort in the wake of the 1932 Democratic landslide following the Great Depression and left the Senate at the end of his second term in 1933. During World War II, Bingham lectured at several United States Navy training schools. In 1951, Bingham was appointed Chairman of the Civil Service Commission Loyalty Review Board, an assignment he kept through 1953

The Senate Judiciary Subcommittee investigated an arrangement between Bingham, his clerk, and a lobbyist who agreed to pass information on to Bingham's office after executing a plan that was irregular, "even by the standards of his day." Bingham took his clerk off duty, and paid his salary to the lobbyist, thus allowing him to attend as a Senate staffer to closed meetings of the Finance Committee's deliberations on tariff legislation.

The initial ruling of the Judiciary Subcommittee was a condemnation of Bingham's scheme; but recommended no formal Senate action. Subsequently, Bingham decided to label the subcommittee's inquiry as a partisan witch hunt, provoking further Senate interest which eventually lead to a Resolution of Censure that passed on November 4, 1929, by a vote of 54 to 22 On June 6, 1956, Bingham died at his Washington, D.C. home. He was interred at Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington, Virginia

Delia Bacon

Actual historical evidence of the man William Shakespeare is meager and seems incongruous with the language and the art of the plays and sonnets attributed to his hand. Delia Bacon was one of the earliest to speculate publicly that the author and William Shakespeare might be two different people.

Could the man whose will mentions disposition of his second-best bed be the same man who adapted stories found only in Italian or Latin, who knew details of a 1580 visit of Marguerite de Valois and Catherine de Medici to Henry of Navarre's court?

Delia Bacon was born in Ohio and moved to Connecticut where she studied at Catherine Beecher's girls' school. She taught school for some years, unsuccessfully tried to start her own school, published a book, Tales of the Puritans, and a play, The Bride of Fort Edward, and had some success as a paid lecturer.

An affair with a minister led Delia Bacon to withdraw into private study and reading. She came to the conclusion that Shakespeare's writings were not the product of the "stupid, ignorant, third-rate player," in her words, but of a group of writers including Sir Walter Raleigh, Edmund Spenser, and most prominently, Francis Bacon.

Delia Bacon argued that the political content of the plays and even the sonnets made it safer for these notables to attribute the writing to the actor whose name was Shakspear (he spelled it differently in different records, but never signed his name "Shakespeare.")

Encouraged to pursue her theory by Ralph Waldo Emerson but few others, she traveled to England for further research. Nathaniel Hawthorne at one point rescued her from poverty and then helped her to publish her theories in The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakespeare Unfolded (1857).

Almost immediately after the book came out, Delia Bacon, in the words of contemporaries, "went insane," and was returned to the United States. She died in Connecticut in 1859.

While Bacon's book was treated primarily as a crackpot theory and literary novelty, it opened up speculation into the authorship of Shakespeare's writings. That speculation continues today, although Delia Bacon's theory centering on Francis Bacon has met with considerable counter-evidence. The current "leading suspect" is, instead, Edward de Vere, the Earl of Oxford.