Pisa, in the duchy of Florence, witnessed the birth of Galileo Galilei in 1564. Far to the northwest, in the English city of Stratford-on-Avon, William Shakespeare was born that same year. And back to...
Pisa, in the duchy of Florence, witnessed the birth of Galileo Galilei in 1564. Far to the northwest, in the English city of Stratford-on-Avon, William Shakespeare was born that same year. And back to the Italian peninsula, Michelangelo di Lodovico died in 1564.
A random cluster of happenings perhaps; an unusual throng of events, maybe, reflecting the laws of statistical probability pertaining to two or more independent occurrences; or even a divine message ordaining the year 1564 as a uniquely special year for the identification of genius in the liberal arts and sciences. Whatever the reason underlying this fascinating coincidence, it has excited the rhetorical skills of more than one historian.
Are there other calendrical conjunctions to give us reason to speculate wildly about the hidden mysteries of history?
There are, for example, the deaths of two founding fathers of this nation, John Adams (in Quincy, Mass.) and Thomas Jefferson (in Monticello, Va.). Both men died on the evening of July 4, 1826, precisely 50 years after the ratification of the Declaration of Independence. And to give the day a greater sense of mystical relevance, James Monroe, this nation’s fifth president, died on July 4, 1831. One must also remember that Calvin Coolidge chose July 4, 1872, as the date to be born.
And then there were the strange coincidences between the presidencies of Abraham Lincoln (elected in 1860) and John F. Kennedy (elected a century later in 1960). Both Lincoln and Kennedy were assassinated while in office and were then succeeded by their vice presidents named Johnson: Andrew Johnson (born 1808), from the southern state of North Carolina, and Lyndon Baines Johnson (born 1908), from the southern state of Texas. And, historians insist on telling us, Kennedy’s secretary was named Evelyn Lincoln.
Dwight D. Eisenhower, this nation’s 34th president, and the American general leading the allied armies in the invasion of Normandy, was born on Oct. 14, 1890. The 11th century invasion of England by the armies of Normandy culminated in the decisive battle of Hastings, on Oct. 14, 1066.
The aura of strange historical coincidences touches even the lives of our great writers. Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), for example, was born on Nov. 30, 1835, and died on April 21, 1910. Nothing particularly unusual or auspicious about those two dates — except for the fact that Halley’s comet, with a trajectory that allows it to be witnessed by earthlings every 75-76 years, appeared on both those dates. Clemens was aware that his birth coincided with the appearance of the comet and in a published commentary in 1909 confidently predicted that his death would coincide with the next appearance of Halley’s comet.
Sociologists and demographers have long noted that chronically ill, dying humans often seek to survive a few extra days if they are within days of a special event such as their own birthday. And thus, this striving translates into a statistical dip in mortality before their birthday and a dramatic rise in mortality the day following their birthday. However, no president, of the 39 deceased presidents, died on his birthday — or even during his birth month (nor on the Ides of March, Christmas or Thanksgiving Day).
We fallible humans have trouble in accepting that events may merely coincide without representing meaningful coincidence. The conjunction of two significant events reinforces our credulous belief that there must be cosmic forces orchestrating the countless happenings that make up our lives; and, in such coincidences, that there are hints, coded messages, telling us that nothing in life is haphazard, that everything has profound meaning.
The hints are there, we are told, whether they be hidden in the alignments of the stars, the shape of the tea leaves or in the mystic numerology of births and deaths, hints suggesting subterranean or extraterrestrial connections unapparent to the skeptical or the uninitiated.
And so humans seek meaning when in truth there may be no meaning in coincidence other than random co-existence.
Stanley M. Aronson, M.D. (firstname.lastname@example.org), a weekly contributor, is dean of medicine emeritus, Brown University.