It was 1969, rebellion in the air, when Native-Americans landed on Alcatraz, claiming it as Indian Land.

Dorothea Lange gave the Depression a human face, but she was more than a “one-picture photographer.”

Tongue in cheek and baton in hand, Peter Schickle poked fun at classical music and the justly forgotten P.D.Q. Bach.

Ma Rainey sang, lived, and became the blues. But there was more to her than that “Slow, Drivin’ Moan.” (As seen in “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom.”)

Reeling from the news, David Byrne began compiling “reasons to be cheerful.” His website now shines a light on innovation, progress, and what works.

When Jim Crow whitened American newspapers, the Chicago Defender spread news about “the Race.”

American food was bland until Edward McIlhenny mashed peppers with vinegar and salt. And an American icon was served.

When the first blockbuster movie spread dangerous myths, one man rose to challenge them. And seeds were sown.

Laura Ingalls Wilder grew up in the “little house” but her daughter, Rose, became the story’s midwife.

From behind bars, King wrote an amazing letter with all the power of his dream.

Madison Avenue had statistics and selling points but one Mad Man dared to think different.

Denied government aid for a water project, Kinney, MN (pop. 325) and its “little old lady” mayor got a radical idea.

When the horror surfaced, Winfred Rembert carved his stories into leather. And a survivor became an artist.

When voting rights hinged on Selma, LBJ stunned the nation with a single phrase.

On radio he interviewed the famous but in his spare time Studs Terkel listened to “the etceteras” of history. And he heard America talking.

First there was Webster, then Twain. But it took Mencken to celebrate how Americans really talk.