On the day Richard Nixon died, 21 years ago today, I happened to be visiting the United States from my home in Canada.

Coincidentally, I was wearing my blue jean jacket with my treasured Nixon pin on the collar. It was given to me by my dear friend Stephen, many decades ago, and I have treasured it ever since.

I was standing at the cash register in a K-Mart at Lincoln and Greenfield, in Oak Park, Michigan, waiting to pay for a cheap pair of sunglasses. I didn’t yet know Nixon had died; it happened the night before. Suddenly the cashier started screaming at me about how rude and offensive I was. I had no idea why I was suddenly singled out and, for a brief moment, thought I was in the middle of a racial argument, since the cashier was Black and incredibly angry at a slight I didn’t understand.

When I was finally informed that Nixon had died overnight, I apologized profusely for my accidental faux pas, removed the button, and have never worn it again.

Eight years later, to the very day, I was watching the news when it was blasted that Linda Lovelace, born Linda Susan Boreman, had died.

To me it seemed to be a cosmic joke. Linda Lovelace, famous for the movie Deep Throat, died on the same day as Richard Nixon, who was brought down by Deep Throat, the nom de guerre given by Washington Post reporters Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein to their secret Watergate tipster.

The book “All The President’s Men,” and later the movie of the same name starring Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman, further publicized the connection between their whistle-blower and the movie that changed the erotic entertainment industry.

Three years after Linda Lovelace’s death, and 11 years after Nixon’s death, W. Mark Felt, former Deputy Director of the FBI, came out as Deep Throat on his deathbed.

Animation by author from White House press photos