One Summer: America,1927

One Summer: America,1927 - Review

U.K. Book Cover

Only the most dedicated students of history may remember the "resplendent name of Philo T. Farnsworth" says Bill Bryson in his latest book, One Summer America, 1927. But could they recall what he patented that year? Did you know 1927 was Yankee sluggers, Lou Gehrig’s and Babe Ruth's best year in Major League Baseball. Or for that matter, baby-boomers, remember - the most famous 25 year-old who captivated the world that summer, Charles Lindberg. Or was it Al Capone, said to be one of the best business minds in recent history.

Without a doubt, my favorite author, Bill Bryson’s new book transcends time to take you back to a year that America lead the way in inventions, culture, movies, sport, and gangsters.

One riveting chapter explores how Philo T. Farnsworth (just saying that name is fun) unveiled his all-electronic television prototype—the first of its kind—made possible by a video camera tube or "image dissector." If you’ve watched TV, and who hasn’t, you can thank this young inventor who lived in San Francisco. All but forgotten, Bryson brings it back to life with his uncanny wit and lucid writing style.

The book hinges on two very recognizable icons, Charles Lindberg, and Babe Ruth. Lindberg became famous over-night with the first successful solo Atlantic crossing from New York to Paris by airplane. And the Babe, the most recognizable name in baseball, set a home run record of 60 that lasted for 34 years. Gehrig and Ruth together hit more home runs that year than most of the major league teams combined. Sports fans, maybe you remember Jack Dempsey, the most notable name in sports. What was it like in Chicago of 1927 when Jack Dempsey and Gene Tunny met at Solider Field?

A marvelous jaunt through history. Bryson captures forgotten personalities, intriguing events, with his trademark clarity, eye for detail, and uncanny humor.

Comments

Paris – the End of Silence

✈️ In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...

Pushing the Pause Button

In this episode, Pushing the Pause Button: Stepping Off the Treadmill Hello, friends — If you're reading this, I'm already off the grid. Today begins a much-needed vacation, and for the next few weeks, On the Fly is taking a break right along with me. For a long time, my inner voice has said, 'Keep every commitment, no matter what.' That's meant early mornings, long days, and a calendar packed with posts, podcasts, and projects I couldn't seem to say no to. I've been trying to be the tireless workhorse—but that kind of grind doesn't end well. Lately, I've noticed I'm not quite myself—shorter fuse, louder sighs, and a few too many grumbles (Lori deserves a medal). That's when you know it's time to hit pause before the spark burns out. So, I'm stepping back to rest, recharge, and remember what it feels like to not live by the next deadline: no tech, no to-do lists, just some space to breathe. Thank you, truly, for all your support and ...

The Friday Morning Pause

In this episode, The Friday Morning Pause: When My Brother’s Bookshelf Called Me to Stillness We live in a world allergic to stillness. Our mornings begin mid-sprint—thumbs scrolling before our eyes even open. The impulse to jump into the digital chaos is immediate. But sometimes, stillness finds you . It was early Friday morning. We’d arrived late the night before, stepping into the cool air before the day turned hot. Half-awake, I reached for my phone—emails, headlines, social feeds waiting like a morning buffet of distraction. We were in Cuba. No Wi-Fi. No 5G. No password. Just stillness, disguised as inconvenience. Instead, I caught sight of something unexpected: a small stack of books on my brother’s TV shelf. My brother and his wife are powered by perpetual motion. They are the definition of overscheduled and overstimulated. Yet there it was: Stillness Is the Key by Ryan Holiday, quietly mocking my scrolling habit. The irony was perfect. I put my phone down—a small, delibe...

Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment

In this episode, Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment. Sometimes love waits half a century for its moment — and when it finally arrives, time doesn’t stand still; it disappears. The moment I stepped off the train in Nantes, it felt like time froze. There she was — my cousin Michèle — waiting on the platform, arms waving desperately. When we finally embraced, the fifty years that had passed between us disappeared in an instant. The melody in her voice was the same, but softer than I remembered. We both shed tears of joy that only come from love long overdue. “I’m so happy you are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Thank goodness for the translation app on my phone, because the conversation began immediately — fast, fluid, and unstoppable. The Frenzy of Catching Up As we drove for about an hour to the tiny town of L’Épine on the Island of Noirmoutier, the words kept tumbling out. Michèle and her husband, Alain, are the most gracious hosts — but my new challe...

On The Fly

Search This Blog