Sunday, for those few who avoided all of the media bombardment, marked the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic.
Local papers, of course, dug through their morgues to find the actual front page reporting the disaster, or found local readers who had a frail copy and ran with that story.
I think holding a front page of a newspaper that’s 100 years old makes the history come alive. It puts me right back there when the event happened and I can imagine how a person of that era felt or reacted on reading the news the first time.
One hundred years from now, how will those citizens of 2112 react when the local (or national) media outlet plays up the 100-anniversary (of whatever earth-shattering importance is to come) story feel when the website (if they still call it that) offers up the page that reported the event.
It won’t be yellowed with time. There won’t be any creases where various owners had folder it into scrapbooks or family albums and Bibles. Assuming the electronic page has been preserved (most likely as a PDF), it will as fresh as the day it hit the Interwebs. There’s no hint of dust or must or being hidden away for the ages. No hint of age. No hint of the passing of generations.
Where’s the history in that? Where’s the mystery?