Building My Bridge to 2076: Episode 1
Documenting the creation of a family Century Safe, one decision at a time
About “Building My Bridge to 2076”
On December 3, 2026, I’ll seal a Century Safe containing letters, photos, stories and artifacts from my family to be opened fifty years later in 2076.
This series documents the entire nine-month journey from vision to gathering to curation to the closing ceremony. I’m following the Century Safe Method I developed while researching Annie Diehm, a Civil War widow who sealed a safe in 1879 that sat all but forgotten for decades, but was opened by President Gerald Ford in 1976, just as Annie had planned.
For those of you unfamiliar with the story of Annie and her Century Safe, I’ve brought all five parts together in a sharable and easy-to-read PDF. You can download it below.
Thanks for joining me on this journey, and I look forward to sharing the stories of YOUR Century Safes over the next nine months, as well!
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Release Date: March 19, 2026
The moment and the decision
My daughter and I were biding our time in the airport in Milan, Italy, waiting for our flight back to Greece after the Olympics when the email showed up.
I may have screamed a little, but thankfully the holding pen was loud and there were little kids playing tag, so no one appeared to notice. Well, except my daughter.
She was, of course, alarmed. But the look on my face was more surprise and joy than terror, so that was good. As family, she knew all about my research into Annie Deihm and her Century Safe, and as my near-constant companion over the previous two weeks, she’d become more intimately knowledgeable about the topic than she likely wanted, so when I started reading her the email, she got it.
I’d reached out to the folks at the Architect of the Capitol's office in DC earlier in my research seeking access to some information in their archives. Crickets. Of course I followed up and included specific questions I was hoping to answer.
Their response showed up a few days later and included an invitation to come to DC to meet with them, share my research and see Annie’s safe.
I couldn’t change my return flight fast enough.
Five days later, I walked through security at the Capitol Visitor Center, my research notebook in hand.
The U.S. Capitol building is an extraordinary place. Originally built between 1783 and 1800, burned down by the British in 1814 and rebuilt in 1826, it is grand without being ostentatious or garish. No Hall of Mirrors here, but the sense of history, the expected gravitas, is definitely there. I’d visited the grounds before but never gone inside, so that first walk down the Minton tiled halls was breathtaking. Knowing I was about to see Annie’s Safe, spend time with items she’d stored inside, was almost heart stopping.
Introductions were made and then I was ushered into an elegant meeting room. A leather-bound copy of The United States Centennial Welcome from 1876 was sitting on the table next to pair of white archival gloves.
I don’t know about anyone else, but when I research something, it becomes part of me. I won’t say I become obsessed – my husband might disagree – but I do get intensely curious. And excited. And curious. Intensely.
I had to sit on my hands to keep from reaching for those gloves. From opening that book.
Annie started publishing her Centennial Welcome newspaper in March 1876, just ahead the Centennial Exposition which opened May 10th in Philadelphia. In the inaugural edition of her monthly publication, Annie shared her vision for it:
This journal will appear in its present form for the centennial year only; it will then die and be buried for a hundred years, rising again only to be recognized and re-entombed for another century. Under a proposition so peculiar, a multitude of subjects will crowd within our sanctum, asking for honorable treatment at our hands.
Even then, she knew that the year-long collection would be bound in black leather, locked in the Century Safe, and taken out a hundred years later only to be placed on a table for me to page through in the chill of a February morning in 2026.
At least that’s what it felt like when I finally pulled on those white gloves and opened the cover. The pages crackled softly – 150 years in the waiting.
First impressions:
In much of her marketing material around the Centennial Welcome, Annie made a big deal about it being printed in “the national colors”, and it was a big deal in 1876. Printing in color was extraordinary, costly and cutting edge. Most historians point to the Milwaukee Journal as the first newspaper to include color in its pages, ironically also red and blue, in 1891.
Of course color printing was available before then, before 1876 when Annie used it in her newspaper, but mostly for posters, labels and children’s books. Not newsprint. Not every page.
The Centennial Welcome doesn’t use any black ink. The copy is blue. The graphics, portraits and illustrations are blue. The borders and accents red.
And you can feel them. Feel the colors on your finger tips. Remarkable.
The content is remarkable, as well, but in an entirely different way. Annie shared recipes and short stories, historic sketches and presidential biographies, personal essays and poetry. Most of it is written in the beautiful language of the day:
“Peace spreads her wings of protection and encouragement over the length and breadth of our land.”
And one final impression: The shadow of the Civil War is everywhere in Annie’s writing. Everywhere.
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A few days before my arrival into DC, Annie’s safe had been moved out of storage and added to the Spirit of ‘76 Exhibition in the Capitol. Although the exhibit wasn’t yet open to the public, I was accompanied in and allowed to look around. To spend some time with the Century Safe I’d been researching for more than six months.
It was massive. Black and shiny, having been repainted and repaired after the Bicentennial in 1976. But it was the inscriptions on the iron outer doors – inscriptions written in what papers in 1876 had called “circus-like script” – that held my attention.
I’d read those inscriptions in countless newspaper articles, seen them in old photos. I could recite them from memory. But they hit different in person:
“In Memory of those whose names appear upon the pages of the Albums deposited within, who have rendered distinguished service to their Country.”
“It is the Wish of Mrs. Deihm, that this Safe may remain closed until July 4, 1976, then to be opened by the Chief Magistrate of the United States.”
They told the story. Laid the intention. Made the promise. Built the bridge between the past and the future.
I always knew I’d create my own Century Safe. But standing there reading those inscriptions, seeing the physical proof that bridges across time can actually hold – something shifted.
It wasn’t theoretical anymore. It wasn’t just another story I was researching. It was a decision.
I always knew I’d create a Century Safe. It just took me standing in front of Annie’s safe to realize it.
A month into researching Annie Deihm and her Century Safe, I started taking notes on how she did it. It was, after all, a monumental undertaking. An impressive effort that began in 1876 when Annie was in her late thirties and outlived her. She spent everything she had — time, money, energy; social capital and connections. Everything.
Those notes filled a notebook, and that notebook turned into a how-to ebook, a comprehensive guide. A map. I’ll be emailing a copy of The Century Safe Method to each of my Paid Subscribers March 25 as a thank-you for their support. Beginning April 2, it will be available for purchase. Stay tuned for that link in Episode 2 where I’ll start answering the same question Annie started with: What’s my vision?
Until then, I’ll leave you with this: Have you ever had a moment where research became personal? Where something you were studying suddenly became something you had to DO?
Copyright 2026 Lori Olson White
The Century Safe Method teaches you Annie Deihm’s pioneering approach, refined with 150 years of hindsight and adapted for family-scale projects today and into the future
This isn’t a vague “make a time capsule” guide. This is a complete methodology for creating a Century Safe that:
Actually gets opened (most time capsules don’t)
Engages future recipients (not just passive viewing)
Survives decades of moves, transitions, and forgotten promises
Creates traditions that continue for generations
Your bridge to 2076 is waiting.
In 2076, someone will open what you’re creating.
They’ll read your letters. See your photos. Discover the “Five Things” about you that no historical record captured. Read your Good Ancestor statement and understand what you wanted to be remembered for.
They’ll sign the signature page beneath your name, answering the questions you posed across fifty years. They’ll feel connected to someone they never met but who thought about them anyway.
And maybe - just maybe - they’ll decide to build a Century Safe for 2126, continuing the chain you started.
That’s legacy. That’s bridge building. And it’s possible.
Get your copy of The Century Safe Method today.
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Recently I was invited to join Robin Stewart and the GenClub Panel to talk about Annie Deihm and her Century Safe. It was a fabulous conversation and a great format for in-depth discussions and questions.
It’s always fun to sit down with Barbara at Projectkin, and recently I had the chance to share some of what I’ve learned about time capsules with her and the Projectkin community.
The Story Catalog isn’t an archive in the usual sense. What you’ll find here is a living catalog of Lost & Found Stories – deeply researched historical narratives told in parts, discovered through newspapers, letters, court records, logs, and the stubborn human habit of leaving traces behind.
The Lost & Found Story Box is reader-supported. When you buy through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission.







When you first shared your discovery about Annie's story...I was blown away. Clearly, this is a project 👀. Can you just imagine what Annie would have done with the tools we have available today? The scale is just breathtaking — and inspiring.
Lori, I'm thrilled that you've shared your journey to find Annie... and now to create your own time capsule. We're right here and honored to get front row seats. 🥹
“I always knew I’d create a Century Safe. It just took me standing in front of Annie’s safe to realize it.”
Obsessed? No, really, I can't even imagine, tee hee. What an exciting trip to DC and your enthusiasm is contagious for this cool DIY family time capsule project.