The British
statesman, Winston Churchill once told us, “History is written by the victors.”

Case in point,
stop by the Sanderson Museum and read the British account of the Battle of the
Brandywine in the 1797 edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. 

Or did you know
congressmen may edit and “append” their comments made on the floor before
publication in the Congressional Record?

How cool is that,
as in “what I really meant to say…”

In many cases, the
history of the United States has been re-written or re-interpreted especially
when we as a country have realized our errors such as the imprisonment of
American citizens of Japanese decent during World War II, or the enslavement of
African-Americans prior to the mid 19^th century. 

But have you ever
written or rewritten your own personal history? Yes, I’ve even known two or
three friends who have gone so far as to start rumors about themselves!

I first discovered
this neat trick more two years ago when I was on the committee for my high
school reunion with all the cool kids–you know, the former football hero, the
National Merit scholar, the cheerleader, the student council president, the
popular girl, the cute boy…

And then there was
me. I had been totally lost in our large public high school on the Upper Main
Line–stick thin, painfully shy, braces, academically average, awkward, weird
straight hair which became positively frightful when my mother gave me a Toni
Home Perm; madly in love with Paul McCartney (a mega rock star with the Beatles
for those of you under a certain age) but didn’t date–in other words, a teenage
disaster.

But by the end of
our two years of planning, chatty emails, bubbly phone calls, dinner meetings
and the big 3-day reunion weekend, everyone seemed to remember me as bright,
outgoing and popular.

See what I mean?
This is really awesome!

I am currently
experiencing another history re-write.

Since spring, I
have been “seeing” a man I knew in college. I love that word. It’s a fabulous
euphemism.  We were in the same
classes for four years. I had never forgotten his incredible dark brown eyes
and his habit of strolling confidently down the halls, a solitary figure,
looking straight ahead, focusing intently on academia.

And for some silly
reason, he had never forgotten me. He was no longer married and was happy to
find me again after 38 years and to discover I still had the same last name.

Last week he
wanted to walk through the old college campus with me to “re-write” history.

We walked hand in
hand across the now beautifully landscaped Quad as members of the faculty
stopped to greet this oddly out of place couple. We reminisced about our
classes and profs and stood in the entrance arch of Old Main, the only part of
that elegant serpentine structure which was saved when the c. 1871 building was
torn down four decades ago.

Is history written
by the victors? Perhaps it is just written by those with the loudest voices or
the most imagination.

As for your own
history, don’t worry about yesterday. Turn on your computer, hit “New Document”
and re-write some history of your own. It just might be fun.