Museums are hallowed places where we house items so that future generations will learn about how we lived. And it’s those lives, the connections to real humans, that make these pieces important. We tracked down some people to tell the stories behind some of the personal effects at prominent American museums. As told to Michael Grant

Staff Sgt. Walter David Ehlers, a Kansas native, served throughout World War II, including on D-Day. On June 9 and 10, 1944, he performed acts of heroism near Goville, France, that earned him a Medal of Honor. “[T]hough wounded himself,” the citation reads, “he carried his wounded automatic rifleman to safety and then returned fearlessly over the shell-swept field to retrieve the automatic rifle which he was unable to carry previously.” Ehlers’ Medal of Honor is at the National WWII Museum in New Orleans.

Ehlers died in 2014. His daughter Cathy Ehlers Metcalf, 69, of Orange, California, regularly visits the museum.

★ Seeing the medal at the museum touches my heart. During his Medal of Honor action, he was shot in the side, and the bullet ricocheted off a rib, went out through his pack and shot a hole in the side of his mother’s picture. That picture is in the museum with the Medal of Honor.

On the 50th anniversary of D-Day, he delivered the keynote address on Omaha Beach. He mentioned that they didn’t just fight for the cause or for the people, they fought for the life they left behind and the life they hoped to return to. I feel that the museum gives me a sense of recognition for what Dad and his family did to secure the freedom we still relish in this country.

Dad said Medal of Honor actions happen in context. Part of the reason he was so determined to keep his story in context was that it was also his older brother’s story. Dad was able, with the help of a beachmaster, to get his whole platoon safely off the beach on D-Day. By contrast, Roland’s landing craft was hit by a mortar, and he and other men were killed. My dad always felt that his brother was truly a hero who made the full measure of sacrifice.

On January 20, 1980, the Pittsburgh Steelers won their fourth Super Bowl, becoming the first NFL team to achieve that milestone, at a time when football was cementing its position as America’s favorite sport. A ball from that game is now part of the collection of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History, although it is not currently displayed. Hall of Fame quarterback Terry Bradshaw, 77, who played for 14 seasons with the Steelers and is now a broadcaster for Fox NFL Sunday, was unaware of the ball’s enshrinement.

★ That football represents the closing of a decade when a group of men stayed together for about 10 years and won four Super Bowls. That was our last Super Bowl together. That is the culmination of all that, so it is extremely rewarding. But I say we did this, not I did this. I’m just one of 53 players who were part of the ball being in there, so that’s what I’m proud of.

Winning four Super Bowls was special. Now, looking back, here comes Joe Montana, and he wins four. Then here comes Tom Brady, and he wins seven—but he lost three. Seven minus three is four. That’s the way I like to look at it. I’m not going to give anybody the upper hand.

Evel Knievel was America’s first superstar daredevil, known for his death-defying motorcycle stunts. His customized 1972 Harley-Davidson XR-750, in the collection of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History, was used in some of his most famous jumps, including a successful flight over 14 buses that was nationally televised on ABC’s Wide World of Sports on October 25, 1975.

His oldest son, Kelly, 65, witnessed many of his father’s risky stunts.

★ I’ve always been proud of my dad. He wasn’t the easiest man to grow up with, but you don’t become a world-famous daredevil by being a shrinking violet. My dad’s accomplishments are a reflection of the freedom and spirit of America. If you follow his career, even after he crashes, he gets up and jumps even farther the next time. That’s what made him so popular—his courage, his confidence in himself, his originality, his showmanship. No one had ever seen anyone like Evel Knievel before.

At the time, in the early ’70s, I think motorcycles were more associated with outlaws and gangs like the Hells Angels. Today, motorcycle culture is more of an expression of freedom and individualism. I think my dad was the turning point between the bad guys and the good guys, with that red, white and blue outfit he wore. The fact that he had the highest-rated Wide World of Sports show in history is just a testament to how he had the whole country sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what he would do next.

Look at all the people he has inspired—freestyle motocross riders, racers and extreme-sports enthusiasts. He created a new industry, and it’s still going today. Not a single person in these sports doesn’t credit Evel Knievel for it, and he definitely deserves it.

As the First Americans Museum in Oklahoma City prepared to return some items on loan from the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian, it asked artist Heidi BigKnife to create a contemporary piece to replace the dush-toh, a type of hair ornament worn by the Shawnee. The original was created sometime between 1870 and 1900. BigKnife’s version is made of maple wood, cotton calico, glass seed beads, silk ribbon, wool broadcloth, sterling silver, brain-tanned hide and embroidery floss.

★ The dush-toh is worn during ceremonial dancing. The hourglass shape, to me, represents the Earth and the universe. When we’re dancing, we are in a relationship with those two things.

When I made this piece, I thought about different designs, but I landed on illustrating things that relate to my ceremonial ground. It’s got oak leaves on it because our ceremonial ground is called White Oak. It has a tiny pendant hanging from it, a little dogwood flower, which is significant to my grounds. I don’t know the person who made the original piece, but making this made me feel more connected to my ancestors and my heritage.

The Smithsonian’s object was collected about 1910, and then to see that they’re still being made—that’s important. People who roll in off Route 66 see that Native people are still living, the cultures are still alive and languages are still being spoken. Maybe they will be able to see that some of these objects are spiritually significant, just as one might find significance viewing objects in other religious contexts.

The dush-toh represents Shawnee culture. The Shawnee have been building community on this continent since time immemorial, and our history, culture and people embody the lived experience of what is now called America.

U.S. Air Force Col. James E. Randall lost his helmet on October 13, 1965, when his F-105 Thunderchief was shot down near Dien Bien Phu, Vietnam. It was later found in a Vietnamese flea market and returned to him. In recent years, Wish of a Lifetime from AARP, an organization that works to fulfill the dreams of older Americans, helped get the helmet accepted into the collection of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture, along with Randall’s Purple Heart and other items.

Randall, a member of the legendary Tuskegee Airmen who had a 36-year military career that included combat missions in two wars, died in 2019. His widow, Essie, passed this year. His daughter Roberta Rollins shares his story.

★ In August 2013, they presented my dad with his helmet at the Tuskegee Airmen Convention in St. Louis. He brought it home and had a cabinet built. Before my father passed away, he said he wanted the helmet to go to the African American museum. It was important to him because there isn’t much memorabilia left of the Tuskegee Airmen.

My dad fought for his country during a time when African Americans couldn’t even vote. He faced racism, but he persevered. I have never been prouder of my dad than I am now.

Few articles of clothing embody cool quite like the Fonz’s leather jacket from the ABC sitcom Happy Days. Portrayed by Henry Winkler, now 80, during the show’s 11-season run in the 1970s and ’80s, Arthur Fonzarelli was TV’s most popular character on one of the era’s most popular shows. One of the jackets used on the show is part of the collection at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History.

★ I got a call from Gary Nardino, the president of Paramount Television. He said, “The Smithsonian would like to have your jacket.” When you’re first asked, it is an honor, but the breadth and the depth are not fully comprehended. As you go through life, it becomes this gigantic compliment.

The original was a beat-up bomber jacket that was stolen from the costumes department at Paramount after the show’s first year. Then they made five and stored them in a vault. Two of those jackets are still in my closet.

I think the jacket represents external toughness. The jacket is instantaneously recognizable as Oh, I would give that human being space. I would arrive on set at 12 on Friday and have my hair combed into a ducktail. I got ready for dress rehearsal with the T-shirt and the boots. When I put on the jacket, the character was complete.

I never wore the leather jacket as myself. I couldn’t live up to the character; he was bigger than life. One time, I went to see the jacket at the Smithsonian. I didn’t have a camera, so I waited by the case. A family came by. I said, “I know this is crazy, but I’m going to ask you to take a picture of me with the jacket. I’m going to give you my address, and you’re going to send it to me.” They knew who I was, but they looked at me like I was crazy.

I hope that when people see the jacket, they think that even though the Fonz was supposed to be tough, his humanity always shines through. As the character, I never hit anyone. I never used a weapon. It’s the strength of a human being that convinces both the good and the bad to do the right thing.

Artist Jon Lomberg, 77, designed this poster for NASA’s 1975 Viking Project, the first U.S. mission to land a spacecraft on the surface of Mars. These posters were often handed out to media, and one is now part of the collection at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum.

As a frequent collaborator with Carl Sagan, Lomberg produced images that helped us visualize what the universe looked like. He won an Emmy Award for his artistic work on the PBS show Cosmos, served as a consultant on the movie Contact, and created the illustrations for Sagan’s books.

★ Space has always been my thing. As a child, the question was always: Why isn’t everybody interested? Some people are born to play soccer or play the cello. I think I was born with a love of space.

Sagan and I began working together when he wrote his first solo book, The Cosmic Connection, in 1973. He was also one of the scientists on the Viking mission. One day, he told me, “You know, Jon, the mission doesn’t have a really good patch. It doesn’t have an insignia. If we leave it to NASA, I don’t know what they’ll do, so why don’t you try to do something?”

I came up with the design, which took a Viking ship and placed it in space, approaching Mars. On Mars, there’s an image of the Viking lander itself. It never became the official Viking mission patch, but this design was used for the launch of the Viking mission in 1975 from Cape Canaveral. I think NASA just wanted to have some nice handouts for the launch. I was just starting my career. I was still in my 20s. It made me feel, in a very small way, part of the mission.

I don’t know how widely it’s seen in the Air and Space Museum, but for me, it’s a bit of history. Viking is one of NASA’s great achievements, but it’s been overshadowed now because we have rovers on Mars. But at the time, the first U.S. landing on Mars was a big deal. My tiny contribution has somehow been preserved.

By Katya Cengel

As told to Claire Leibowitz