On August 8, 1988, Wrigley Field lit up for the first time in its long and storied history. The Cubs were finally playing under the lights, ending decades of sunlit baseball tradition on Chicago’s North Side. It was a moment fans had waited for, some reluctantly, others eagerly.

Television demanded it, the league supported it, and even the city council finally agreed to it. But as history would have it, the game didn’t go as planned. The rain came hard, thunder cracked over the ivy, and the lights that had just come on were soon shining down on an empty, soaked diamond.

That first night game never officially counted, but it marked the end of an era just the same. In this episode, we explore what happened that night, why it mattered, and why, for those who were there, it remains one of the most memorable games that never was.

In the summer of 1959, as Cold War tensions brewed and the space race gained momentum, a small American satellite quietly made history. Explorer 6, a modest sphere bristling with solar paddles and scientific instruments, launched from Cape Canaveral with little fanfare. Its mission was technical, its goals ambitious, but what it accomplished transcended science and touched something deeper.

On August 14, 1959, from over 17,000 miles above Earth, Explorer 6 captured the first-ever image of our planet from orbit. It was grainy, faint, and barely recognizable by today's standards, yet it was the first time humanity saw itself from space. This unassuming photo marked a quiet revolution in how we viewed the world.

In this episode of Dave Does History, we take you through the story of Explorer 6, the satellite that blinked our first portrait home, and helped pave the path to Apollo, Earthrise, and the spacefaring age.

(Special Thanks to Bill Mick sitting in for me today while Cami and I are on our anniversary trip!)

On this episode of Dave Does History, we travel to the thick woods of upstate New York, where on August 6, 1777, one of the bloodiest and most personal battles of the American Revolution erupted. The Battle of Oriskany wasn’t fought by foreign armies or distant kings. It was neighbors against neighbors, families torn apart, and Native nations forced to choose sides.

General Nicholas Herkimer, wounded early in the fight, refused to retreat. Propped beneath a beech tree, he smoked his pipe and gave orders as musket fire echoed through the ravine. Around him, the Tryon County militia fought not just for freedom, but for survival.

This battle shattered alliances, split the Iroquois Confederacy, and changed the course of the war in the North. Today, we remember what happened in that ravine, and why its legacy still matters. Fill your mug, lean in close, and join us as we remember Oriskany.

This week on Dave Does History, we step directly into the candlelit committee rooms of 1776, where a handful of exhausted men, some brilliant, some bothersome, grappled with the impossible: writing a document that would declare independence, defend it to the world, and somehow hold thirteen squabbling colonies together.

In August 1972, Uganda's dictator Idi Amin issued a chilling ultimatum. He gave the country’s Asian population just 90 days to leave. No hearings, no negotiations, no appeals. Seventy thousand people, many of them Ugandan citizens, were suddenly unwanted in the only home they had ever known.

What followed wasn’t just an expulsion. It was organized theft, driven by racism and hunger for power. Businesses were seized, families torn apart, and Uganda’s economy was gutted from within. Amin claimed it was about patriotism, about giving the country back to its people. But the truth was far uglier.

In this episode, we look at the story behind those 90 days. We’ll explore how Uganda's Asian community became a target, what really motivated the purge, and the lasting damage it left behind. It’s a story of betrayal, loss, and survival, and one that still echoes across generations.

In the summer of 1936, under the shadow of swastikas and the watchful gaze of Adolf Hitler, two American sprinters lined up for a race that would shake the foundations of Nazi propaganda. Everyone remembers Jesse Owens crossing the line first. Few recall who finished second.

Ralph Metcalfe, a man shaped by grit, faith, and speed, ran the race of his life in Berlin. But his story didn’t end on that track. He would go on to serve in World War II, mentor young athletes, and become a U.S. Congressman who challenged the powers that be, even within his own party.

In today’s episode of Dave Does History, we remember a man who never let second place define him. His legacy stretched far beyond the finish line. This is the story of Ralph Metcalfe, the fastest man to ever lose, and one of the finest to ever serve.

This week’s episode of What The Frock? begins with the unthinkable.

Rabbi Dave takes to the mic alone, shaken and grieving, to deliver a eulogy for his friend and co-host, Friar Rod, who he believes has passed away from a sudden heart attack. He reflects on their years of friendship, their podcast journey, and the irreplaceable presence Rod brought to every episode. It is heartfelt, raw, and deeply personal.

But nothing is quite as it seems.

What starts as a tribute turns into one of the most unexpected and hilarious episodes in the show's history. From AI-generated death notices to submarine history, misleading supplement advice, tsunami false alarms, and Major League Baseball rain delays, the show barrels forward with the same irreverent charm listeners have come to love.

Grab a pint and buckle in. It’s a ride filled with laughter, disbelief, and the kind of chaos only What The Frock? can deliver.

On today's episode of Dave Does History, we're pulling up a chair at a Deadwood poker table and watching the final moments of one of the West’s most iconic figures. James Butler Hickok, known to the world as Wild Bill, wasn’t looking for a fight that day. He was just trying to win a hand.

He had no idea that someone had already decided to end the game, permanently.

But who was Wild Bill really? Beneath the pistols and portraits, was he a hero, a fraud, or something far more complicated?

We’ll explore his rise from canal brawler to Union scout, his time as a lawman in Kansas, and the long, slow slide that brought him to that fateful chair in Saloon No. 10. The legend says he died with aces and eights. The truth might hold something even more valuable.

Stay with us. The hand has been dealt, and the story’s just getting started.

Its the hottest month for a reason

In 1963, the battle over civil rights reached a boiling point, and President John F. Kennedy stood at the edge of a political cliff. For years, he had played it safe, balancing ideals with cold electoral math. But that year, something shifted.

From the fire hoses of Birmingham to the death of Medgar Evers, the moral weight of the moment pressed hard. Kennedy stepped forward with a national address that called segregation a “moral issue” and backed it up by sending landmark civil rights legislation to Congress, knowing it might cost him politically.

This episode of *Dave Does History* dives into that critical year, exploring what pushed JFK to act, how he navigated political minefields, and why his civil rights stance in 1963 still echoes today. It’s the story of a president, a movement, and a nation being pulled, sometimes kicking and screaming, toward its better self. Let’s take a look back.