My four grandparents (and one step-gtandparent) were all born in the United States between 1915 and 1920.
My maternal grandmother was the child of Scottish immigrants. Her perspective on history was restricted to her own (difficult) life in small-town America. When I try to imagine how incredibly limited her sources of information as well as her opportunities for travel were, I begin to realize how easy it must have been back then to tell people absolutely anything. Her parents, arriving from the old world around 1900, would have believed without question whatever story they were told about the history of the United States. If they noticed some obvious anomaly like a half-buried building, they probably wouldn't think twice about it. They were too poor to care. In the off chance that they did pursue some kind of investigation, they would hit a dead-end immediately. In any case, that generation got a very strong anti-past brainwash. All of my grandparents exhibited this deep refusal and even hatred of old objects and ideas. This generation witnessed their beautiful cities being raped with interstate highways and brutalist architecture and applauded it.
My Boomer parents got the same brainwash, but a little less virulently.
My maternal grandfather's story is of possible interest here. He died when I was six. His father was a Croatian immigrant and his mother was half "Cherokee" and half white. I put that in quotation marks because I'm not sure the Cherokee were Indians as we generally imagine them. Both of his parents died or disappeared when he was a baby, so he was raised by his Croatian grandparents. Well, that's the story, but who knows? He was an orphan in any case. He lived in a small coal town in Pennsylvania (probably a mud-flooded town, they're everywhere in that region) and became a coal miner as a teenager. I think he made it to eighth grade. He became a degenerate alcoholic. He was not a good person. I guess his life was unimaginably hard. Again, he could have been told absolutely anything, and he probably would have believed it.
My father's parents came from a higher social class. My grandfather was born in the USA of Italian immigrants. His father, my great-grandfather, died at 96, so I remember him. He was a sculptor and plaster artisan who emigrated from Italy to the US in 1903 to work on the St. Louis international exhibition. He specialized in decorative molding and became wealthy in the 1910's and 1920's doing it. I used to think this was proof that the World's Fairs were indeed temporary staff buildings as claimed, but of course they may have just brought over foreign artisans like my great-grandfather to slap on a new façade. I can easily imagine him arriving there, not speaking English, noticing the buildings were older than claimed, and not really caring. He probably knew nothing about American history.
Italian worker, in Italian, to the Italian-American foreman: "These buildings look old."
Foreman (himself probably vetted by masons): "Who knows. Get back to work." Or: "They changed the plans. Get back to work." Or: "We're not paying you to ask questions. Get back to work."
Maybe this why they were all destroyed by "accidental" fires rather than disassembled as planned: so the many people who saw the truth firsthand would just shrug their shoulders and forget. Who cared about old buildings, anyway? My great-grandfather came to America to get rich. He probably associated old buildings with being poor in Italy. He probably would have been happy to participate in the demolition if they paid him enough. All he really cared about was money. His son, my grandfather, was an astonishingly gifted sculptor and illustrator, and the old man forced him to abandon it and become an architect, because it was seen as more prestigious. They didn't even teach him to speak Italian because it was associated with the hated past. They were Americans now. My grandfather did his duty and learned to design buildings in the modernist style. He was completely disconnected from the bigger picture. A man's job was to work, get paid, and have children. If the boss says tear the old building down and replace it with a brutalist box...you do it. I used to occasionally ask my grandfather about the past, but all I ever really got were trivial "color" anecdotes about buying a Coke for two cents, or swimming in the (later filled-in) canal to grab bananas that had fallen off the boat, or whatever.
Men and women of this generation were very strongly inculturated to associate any kind of curiosity or spontaneous speech with weakness. You just didn't ask questions, and you kept your eyes down. At least in the USA.
My paternal grandmother lived to be almost one hundred. She received a college education, was an avid reader with good taste, and had an incredible memory. Of my four grandparents, she would have been the most likely to notice something and pass it on. Her family had also been in the United States longer. I spent a lot of time with her. But still, she was a woman of her generation who deeply believed that "progress" was a categorical moral good and that her duty was to trust the people making decisions. For example, I asked her once if people had been upset when the extensive trolley system in her hometown was bought by car manufacturers, destroyed, and replaced by inferior buses. She said something like, "Well, that was progress." I could see in that moment that, intelligent as she was, it was beyond her to question things like this. Even though she had personally witnessed her home city, like so many others in the United States, basically demolished and ruined due to "progress", "modernization", etc., she could not really question the process on any meaningful level. My father, a Baby Boomer, is the same way. It became clear to me when I showed him the work of "Architects and Engineers for 9/11 Truth". He refused to look at it and asked me never to bring it up again. He was programmed not to ask questions and not to notice things he wasn't supposed to. A telling vignette: despite being a "soft corona skeptic", he got "vaccinated" because it was his duty. Shortly afterwards, I asked him if I could test the "conspiracy theory" that magnets stuck to the injection site. He said sure. I took a small neodynium magnet, moved it over his deltoid muscle, and...it stuck right to the jab site. It wasn't some subtle thing. It grabbed right to that spot and only that spot. For a second he just stared at it, his mind completely short-circuited. "Why is the magnet sticking?" he blurted out, with real shock in his voice. We repeated the experiment enough times to prove the "vaccine" had really magnetized his arm. He was scared, I could see it.
But fifteen minutes later he was making dumb jokes about how he was some kind of Marvel superhero mutant now. The tiny window of awareness that had opened when he saw the magnet stick to his arm had slammed shut.
He went on to get boosted.
That tells you everything you need to know about how the history forgers continue to get away with it.
As a bonus I will include my maternal step-grandfather, whom I only knew for a few years, after he married my grandmother and before he died. He was a WW2 veteran and wore one of those mesh-back hats everywhere. On one of our first meetings, he told me the following "life lesson" story:
"When I was ten years old we moved to a new town. On the first day of school, I asked who the toughest boy was and I challenged him to a fight. I licked him, and after that, I was the toughest boy."
End of lesson.
You get the picture.
My grandparents' grandparents were probably born around the time of the Civil War, so even they would have been raised post-Reset, if we assume the Civil War was the last big Reset in the USA. Of the sixteen of them, maybe only two were born in the United States. So it's not surprising that even my grandparents would have no clue.
At the risk of sounding arrogant, I believe that not one of the family members described here was psychologically capable of questioning anything presented to them by authority, no matter how much it might contradict what they saw with their own eyes. Sadly, after Covid, this no longer surprises me.
