Researchers had a rare opportunity to peek “under the hood” of the Carnegie Mellon University Libraries’ two Enigma machines, opening the World War II-era machines to photograph their carefully-crafted interiors and to locate and record the serial numbers printed on their rotors.
The heartbreaking photo is seared into our consciousness: the little boy face down on the sand. At first glance we want to believe he’s sleeping peacefully; then we realize he’s been drowned in his family’s desperate attempt to escape from Syria. Tima Kurdi, the little boy’s aunt, bravely takes us through each agonizing turn until we understand why her brother Abdullah took his wife and their two boys on this dangerous journey.
Andrew Meade McGee is the University Libraries’ CLIR Postdoctoral Fellow in the History of Science and Computing. An historian by training, he specializes in the political, cultural, technology, and business history of the twentieth century United States, with a particular focus on the history of the information society.
You previously served as visiting faculty in the History Department before going to the Library of Congress. What brought you back to CMU?
On July 20th, 1969, an estimated 600 million people witnessed the live broadcast of the first manned lunar landing known as Apollo 11. Astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin left the lunar module to become the first human beings to step foot on the moon, while Command Module Pilot Michael Collins stayed in orbit. This was the first of many historic events to take place on the moon that day. Armstrong’s left foot was the first human footprint left on a lunar surface, while the first meal eaten on the Moon consisted of four bacon squares, three sugar cookies, peaches, pin
The Disappearing L: Erasure of Lesbian Spaces and Culture by Bonnie J. Morris
The Woman’s Hour: The Great Fight to Win the Vote by Elaine Weiss
This November is the 100th anniversary of the Armistice, the end of World War I. To mark the occasion, I thought I would dig into the early history of the Mellon Institute of Industrial Research to highlight some of the work that was carried out there during World War I.
When I was small, my grandparents had a console TV with a framed photo sitting on top – right about eye level to a child. In the photo my grandfather, in uniform, sat astride a huge black horse. I was told he was in the Cavalry in World War I, but I had no idea what that meant.
Fire Shut Up in My Bones opens with the author driving down the highway, crying, screaming, with a gun on the car seat beside him, headed toward revenge. Then we’re pulled back into the childhood of that wounded man, a story told so well that by the time we come to that scene’s resolution, we’ve almost forgotten it.