Editorial: The importance of history as taught by David McCullough

It is often said that those who do not study history will be doomed to repeat it.

Whatever afterlife David McCullough finds himself in, it will not involve repeating history.

The Pittsburgh native and world-renowned author died Sunday. He was 89.

But what does the death of a historian matter in the great context of the world? Someone who writes about history isn’t making history.

Or is that perhaps exactly what a historian does?

The field of history is not crowded with famous names — at least not on the spine of the book or on the back with the author’s picture. No, if there is a book about a war or tragedy or figure whose name you memorized for a midterm, it is likely that book becomes more famous than the writer.

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• Pittsburgh native David McCullough remembered as ‘guiding light’ for preserving Western Pa. history
• David McCullough, Pulitzer-winning historian and Pittsburgh native, dies at 89

McCullough was one of the few to break that mold, becoming a well-recognized name even outside historical circles. One could argue that what Carl Sagan did for astronomy and physics, McCullough did for history. He made it something people could recognize as not only important from an academic standpoint but also valuable for daily life.

He wrote about the Johnstown Flood — and taught us a little something about the hubris of putting the desires of the wealthy ahead of the welfare of the common man.

He wrote about the Brooklyn Bridge and the Panama Canal — and showed us how audacious plans could change the landscape and the world.

He introduced us to presidents — and painted them as both great and humble, larger than life and all too familiar.

And he told us the story of the American Revolution, illustrating how we went from a possession of a foreign king to a nation standing on its own.

If that weren’t enough, McCullough took it a step further. In addition to recording his own books, he also brought history to life by narrating other work, including documentaries and the Oscar-nominated feature film “Seabiscuit.” He didn’t just deliver history to the people. He coaxed people to come closer to history, making it a delicious treat to be savored.

History is not just a dusty list of dates to memorize for a test. It is touching a hot stove, learning from the pain and recognizing how not to burn yourself in the future. It is a critically important lesson that we should use constantly. It should inform how we work, how we plan and, perhaps most vitally, how we vote.

Not everyone learns this lesson, and that is why they are doomed to repeat it over and over.

But McCullough didn’t just learn it. He taught it.