Taking a cue from Dave's recent meme-games and my own reading of the weekend book review section of the paper, I'm inspired to wonder how many answers can fit the following blanks:
"The period between the end of _______ and the end of ______ is one of the most important in American history and, these days, one of the most neglected."
This sentence was part of a review of Daniel Walker Howe's What God Hath Wrought: The Transformation of America, 1815-1848. The review was by Jonathan Yardley; recently, Jill Lepore had a fascinating essay centering on the same book in The New Yorker. Popular new book, I'd say. That's a lot of press for a work of antebellum history. Though I shouldn't feign shock -- I'm familiar with Howe's work, conversant with the historiography under discussion in both recent reviews, and wishing I can some day achieve the well-earned success Howe has. The period about which he writes is at the very core of my own historical work. All of which is to say, the answers to the fill-in-the-blank in original form are "War of 1812" and "Mexican-American War in 1848."
Thus: "The period between the end of the War of 1812 and the end of Mexican-American War in 1848 is one of the most important in American history and, these days, one of the most neglected."
But that alone isn't a lot of fun. What piqued my interest was the gall of the reviewer's statement. How could you verify such a claim? "One of the most neglected"? What does that mean? By what measure? A rhetorical flourish, I presume.
So, although I *should* be one to cheerlead the call for greater public awareness of that period, and I *do* agree that the period deserves more attention, I actually imagine one could say the same about almost any given time period in American history. Even if you fill in the blanks as such -- "The period between the end of the first hour of D-Day and the end of its fourth hour is one of the most important in American history and, these days, one of the most neglected" -- I bet someone could make a case. Or, "the end of Kennedy's motorcade in Dallas" and "the beginning of the Zapruder film's final cut." Or, "the end of Nixon's odd wave on those helicopter steps" and "the end of his last step into the actual helicopter." Or so on...
Dear able-minded World's Fair readership, any blank fillers?
(At least HgMan should pitch in, if not our interns.)
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Hey, if the last 7.5 years were not so neglected, perhaps we would not be in such trouble right now.
Hmm. I don't think it's at all neglected, but from a technology/science standpoint, the period from the end of World War II to the end of the Cold War is pretty important.
Or, the period from the first wireless telegraph transmission by Morse (I don't know the date off-hand, late 1890s or early 1900s, I think) 'til the widespread use of commercial television in the mid-1950s (the golden age of radio technology, which saw many military applications, and also changed the face of western society; also RADAR was invented in the middle of this).
Ha. I like Coturnix's answer, so I'll repeat it, slightly modified:
"The period between Bush's Supreme Court-appointed presidency and the moment I post this comment is one of the most important in American history and, these days, one of the most neglected."
How about this?
"The period between the dropping of the atomic bomb in Hiroshima and the landing of that atomic bomb is one of the most important in American history and, these days, one of the most neglected."
Just think, worldwide, how many people died while the bomb was falling.
"At least HgMan should pitch in"??
I think Daniel Walker Howe got it pretty close to right. I can't think of a more important and overlooked period in American history, though, perhaps, 1848-1861 (David Potter's "impending crisis") deserves a shout. And if the theme is science and technology, then it has to be the quarter-century and a bit after the Civil War.
Whatever Bush's transgressions, there is no way he transformed America on the level that was witnessed in the 19th century. I suspect that fifty to a hundred years from now, historians will look back on the now and be able to identify considerable consistency in American politics and history from Goldwater to 2012 (and beyond). Maybe I'm just a cynic, but what's really changed since Clinton? Presentism is so... well, yesterday.