Not long after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963, the a list of seemingly amazing coincidences between the two men’s lives appeared, and it has been widely and continuously reprinted and circulated ever since:

Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846.

John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946. Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860.

John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960. The names Lincoln and Kennedy each contain seven letters. Both were particularly concerned with civil rights. Both wives lost their children while living in the White House. Both Presidents were shot on a Friday. Both were shot in the head. Lincoln’s secretary, Kennedy, warned him not to go to the theatre.

Kennedy’s secretary, Lincoln, warned him not to go to Dallas. Both were assassinated by Southerners. Both were succeeded by Southerners. Both successors were named Johnson. Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808.

Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908. John Wilkes Booth was born in 1839.

Lee Harvey Oswald was born in 1939. Both assassins were known by their three names.

Both names are comprised of fifteen letters. Booth ran from the theater and was caught in a warehouse.

Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater. Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.

Despite the seemingly impressive surface appearance, several of these entries are either misleading or factually incorrect, and the rest are mostly mere superficial coincidences that fail to touch upon the much more substantial differences and dissimilarities that underlie them.

Let’s examine them one at a time:

Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846. John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.

First of all, we have to note (in regard to this and subsequent entries) that two similar events taking place 100 years apart is no more of an “amazing coincidence” than if those events had occurred 92 or 105 years apart; it’s only something we take note of and think special because of our non-logical fascination with round numbers.

In this particular case, the statement is literally true as worded: both Lincoln and Kennedy were first elected to Congress one hundred years apart. Aside from that minor similarity, however, their political careers bore little resemblance to each other.

Lincoln was an Illinois state legislator who, outside of his election to a single term in the U.S. House of Representatives, failed in his every attempt to gain national political office until he was elected President in 1860, including an unsuccessful bid for the Senate in 1854, a unsuccessful bid to become the Republican vice-presidential candidate in 1856, and another unsuccessful bid for a Senate seat in 1858.

Kennedy, on the other hand, enjoyed an unbroken string of political successes at the national level when he entered the political arena after World War II: He was elected to the U.S. House of Representatives in 1946, re-elected to the House in 1948, re-elected again in 1950, won a U.S. Senate seat in 1952, was re-elected to the Senate in 1958, and was elected President in 1960.

Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860. John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960.

It’s hardly surprising that two men who (as noted above) both achieved their first political successes at the national level a hundred years apart would also ascend to the Presidency a hundred years apart. This “coincidence” is even less surprising when we consider that presidential elections are held only once every four years. Lincoln couldn’t possibly have been elected President in 1857 or 1858 or 1859 or 1861 or 1862 or 1863, because no presidential elections were held in those years. Likewise, Kennedy couldn’t possibly have been elected President in the non-election years of 1957, 1958, 1959, 1961, 1962, or 1963. So, even though both men were politically active at the national level during eight-year spans when they might have been elected President, circumstances dictated that the only years during those spans when they both could have been elected were exactly one hundred years apart.

We’re also supposed to be amazed at minor happenstances such as the two men’s being elected exactly one hundred years apart, but we’re supposed to think nothing of the numerous non-coincidences: Lincoln was born in 1809; Kennedy was born in 1917. Lincoln died in 1865; Kennedy died in 1963. Lincoln was 56 years old at the time of his death; Kennedy was 46 years old when he died. Lincoln was shot in April; Kennedy was assassinated in November. Lincoln was shot on the 14th day of the month, Kennedy on the 22nd. Also unmentioned is the fact that Lincoln was re-elected to a second term as President, but Kennedy was killed before the completion of his first term. No striking coincidences or convenient hundred-year spans in any of those facts.

The names Lincoln and Kennedy each contain seven letters.

Surely this is the most trivial of coincidences, especially when one considers that the average length of presidential surnames is 6.64 letters. No mention is made of the fact that the two men’s first names contain different numbers of letters, and that Kennedy had a middle name (Fitzgerald) while Lincoln had none.

Both were particularly concerned with civil rights.

Saying that Lincoln and Kennedy were both “particularly concerned with civil rights” is like saying that Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt were both “particularly concerned with war,” or that Herbert Hoover and Ronald Reagan were both “particularly concerned with economics.” Those weren’t subjects these men had evinced a particular overarching interest in; those were issues they were forced to deal with due to events currently taking place in the U.S. which were beyond their control.

Both wives lost their children while living in the White House.

Another statement that, while literally true, encompasses events that were completely different in circumstance and nature.

All of Lincoln’s children were born before he entered the White House, and the Lincolns actually lost two children, not just one (although only one died during Lincoln’s tenure as President). Edward Lincoln died of tuberculosis in 1850, just before his fourth birthday, and the Lincolns’ eleven-year-old son Willie succumbed to typhoid at the end of their first year in the White House.

JFK and his wife, on the other hand, were the rare Presidential couple still young enough to be bearing children after entering the White House, and a premature child born to Mrs. Kennedy in 1963 died two days later.

Other substantial differences not mentioned: The Lincolns had four children, all boys, only one of whom lived past his teens. JFK and his wife had three children, two boys and a girl, two of whom survived well into adulthood.

Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.

Another non-surprise. Absent all other factors, the odds were already an unremarkable one in seven that both killings would have occurred on the same day of the week. (No, the odds are not one in forty-nine; that’a common mistake made by statistical novices.)

Both were shot in the head.

This “coincidence” is another one which is exceedingly trivial in nature. The only two types of shots which reasonably assure a dead victim are chest shots and head shots, so two assassinations committed by head shots aren’t the least bit coincidental — especially when one considers that since both Lincoln and Kennedy were shot from behind and while seated, their assassins had no other practical choice of target.

And the “coincidence” here is even less surprising when we note the substantial differences: Lincoln was killed indoors with a small handgun at point blank range; Kennedy was shot outdoors with a rifle from several hundred feet away.

Lincoln’s secretary, Kennedy, warned him not to go to Ford’s Theatre. Kennedy’s secretary, Lincoln, warned him not to go to Dallas.

This is one of those coincidences that isn’t a coincidence at all; it’s simply wrong. John Kennedy did have a secretary named Evelyn Lincoln (who may or may not have warned him about going to Dallas), but one searches in vain to find a Lincoln secretary named Kennedy. (Lincoln’s White House secretaries were John G. Nicolay and John Hay.)

The more important point is that since Presidents are frequent recipients of assassination threats, they rarely make any public appearances without somebody’s warning them of potential danger. Only on the extemely rare occasions when a tragedy actually occurs do we later take note of the warnings; in all other cases the failed “prophecies” are quickly forgotten. (Lincoln received “an unusual number of letters about plots to kidnap or assassinate him,” said to have numbered at least eighty, yet none of those plots were enacted.) Nor does anyone think to mention other attempts at kidnap or assassination that were not preceded by any recorded warnings to the victims. (Lincoln was shot at on at least one other occasion.)

Yes, Lincoln was warned not to go to Ford’s Theatre by persons concerned for his safety, just as he had been warned not to visit Richmond a week earlier, and just as he had been warned not to attend his own inauguration in 1861. Obviously, only one of the myriad of warnings he received throughout his four years in office was on the mark. Likewise, Kennedy was warned not to visit San Antonio the day before his trip to Dallas (and undoubtedly before a host of other appearances as well), but only the last warning he allegedly received is considered significant, because it coincidentally happened to come true. As various “psychics” have demonstrated, if you make enough predictions, one of them is eventually bound to come true; the public remembers only that and forgets about all the others failed predictions.

Both were assassinated by Southerners.

A dubious use of the term “Southerner.” John Wilkes Booth was undeniably a Southern sympathizer, but he was born in Maryland, which (along with Delaware) was the northernmost of the border slave states and remained part of the Union throughout the Civil War. Additionally, Booth spent a good deal of his life in the North and “thought of himself as a Northerner who understood the South.”

Oswald was nominally a Southerner by virtue of his having been born in New Orleans; he spent his youth being shuttled between Louisiana, Texas, and New York before finally joining the Marines. But Oswald’s “Southerness” is of no real import, because, unlike Booth, Oswald was not motivated by a regional affiliation.

Both were succeeded by Southerners.

Both Lincoln and Kennedy were “succeeded by Southerners” because both had Southerners as vice-president, another fact hardly surprising considering the historical circumstances of their times. Lincoln was a Northern Republican running for re-election while the country was in the midst of a civil war and needed a Southerner and a Democrat to balance the ticket, hence his choice of Tennessean Andrew Johnson. Kennedy, represented New England and therefore needed a vice-presidential candidate who could appeal to the populous Southern and Western regions, hence his choice of a Southwesterner, Texan Lyndon Johnson.

The identification of Andrew Johnson as a “Southerner” is also a bit problematic here. Although Johnson was born in North Carolina and spent his adult life in Tennessee (both slave states), Johnson was also the only Southern senator who refused to follow his state when it seceded and remained loyal to the Union.

Both successors were named Johnson.

Given the high frequency of “Johnson” (literally “son of John”) as a surname in both Lincoln’s and Kennedy’s time, this “coincidence” should be no real surprise to anyone.

Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808. Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.

Another hundred-year coincidence that is hardly surprising, since nearly all American politicians have attained high office (President or Vice-President) while in the 50-70 age range (and Andrew Johnson and Lyndon Johnson were, obviously, contemporaries of Lincoln and Kennedy, respectively). It’s time again to point out that there’s nothing “coincidental” about events merely because they somehow involve the number 100. If we sifted through all the Lincoln/Kennedy data, we could produce multiple instances of events involving the number 17 or 49 or 116, but nobody would consider those “coincidences” because they don’t yield nice round numbers that have any significance to us, even though they’re all just as “coincidental” as the number 100.

And once again, let’s consider all the differences between the two Johnsons, such as that one hailed from North Carolina while the other was from Texas, or that one supported slavery while the other championed civil rights, or that one was never elected President in his own right while the other won the biggest presidential landslide in history, or that one was impeached while the other wasn’t, or that one became President at the end of a war while the other became President at the beginning of a war.

John Wilkes Booth was born in 1839. Lee Harvey Oswald was born in 1939.

Another coincidence that is no coincidence because it’s plain wrong: Booth was born in 1838, not 1839. His birthday is typically fudged by a year to make it fit a predetermined pattern.

Both assassins were known by their three names.

Another “coincidence” of dubious veracity. John Wilkes Booth was often billed as “J. Wilkes Booth” or simply “John Wilkes” (primarily to distinguish himself from his father and brother, both named Junius, and his brother Edwin, all three of whom were also actors), and as a prominent actor, his name was already familiar to the general public at the time of Lincoln’s assassination.

Lee Oswald was generally referred to simply as “Lee” (not “Lee Harvey”) before Kennedy’s assassination, and he was completely unknown to the general public until his arrest. The common usage of his full name only came about after the assassination, because his habitual employment of false names (including several variations on his real name) and his possession of forged identification cards made it difficult for the Dallas police to initially identify him, so they used his full name for specificity.

Both names are comprised of fifteen letters

Coincidence? Neither their first nor last names have the same number of letters. And why should it be significant that both assassins had the same number of letters in their full names when the same wasn’t true of Abraham Lincoln and John Fitzgerald Kennedy, or of Andrew Johnson and Lyndon Baines Johnson?

Once again, perhaps we should focus on the substantive differences between the two men: Booth was born into a prominent family and, like his father, was a well-known, popular, gregarious actor. Oswald was born (and lived most of his life) in near poverty-level circumstances, never knew his father (who died two months before Oswald was born) and was an obscure, moody malcontent who never had any close friends or a steady job. Oswald was married with two children; Booth had neither wife nor offspring. Oswald enlisted in the Marines, but Booth kept a promise to his mother not to join the Confederate army.

Booth ran from the theater and was caught in a warehouse. Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater.

Another “coincidence” that is both inaccurate and superficial.

Booth shot Lincoln in a theater of the type where live stage shows are held, then fled across state lines before being trapped and killed in a tobacco shed several days later.

Oswald shot Kennedy from (not in) a textbook warehouse, then remained in Dallas and was caught and taken alive in a movie theater a little over an hour later.

Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.

Another superficial similarity with much more significant underlying differences, and a potentially dubious use of the word “assassinated.”

After Booth shot Lincoln, he fled the scene and eventually (with a co-conspirator, David Herold) crossed the Potomac River from Maryland into Virginia, eluding capture for a total of eleven days before federal troops finally discovered him to be hiding on a farm belonging to Richard Garrett and surrounded the barn in which he and Herold were sleeping. The two men were ordered to surrender: Herold complied, but when Booth failed to drop his weapon and come out, the barn was set ablaze. A trooper named Boston Corbett, who was watching Booth through a gap in the barn’s siding, shot the assassin. Whether Corbett can be said to have “assassinated” Booth is problematic — the deeply religious Corbett sometimes claimed that he had shot Booth because “Providence directed” him to do it, or because he “did not want Booth to be roasted alive,” but he also testified that he shot Booth because he “saw [Booth] in the act of stooping or springing and concluded he was going to use his weapons.”

Oswald left the warehouse from which he shot Kennedy and was arrested in a movie theater a little over an hour later by police officers who had no idea who he was. (Oswald was initially arrested only for the murder of Dallas police officer J.D. Tippit, whom he shot while in flight; his connection to the Kennedy assassination was not established until later.) Oswald was captured alive and remained in custody for two days before being gunned down by Jack Ruby, a private citizen.

Other differences: Booth was shot in the back in the neck and lived for another three hours; Oswald was shot in the abdomen and died within minutes of his arrival at Parkland Hospital.

A month before Lincoln was assassinated he was in Monroe, Maryland. A month before Kennedy was assassinated he was in Marilyn Monroe.

This is a latter-day addition to the list and nothing more than a salacious joke. Even as a humorous coincidence it fails the test, as Marilyn Monroe died well over a year before Kennedy’s assassination.

So what are we to make of all this? How do we account for all these coincidences, no matter how superficial they may be, and why do so many people find this list so compelling?

The coincidences are easily explained as the simple product of mere chance. It’s not difficult to find patterns and similarities between any two marginally-related sets of data, and coincidences similar in number and kind can be (and have been) found between many different pairs of Presidents. Our tendency to seek out patterns wherever we can stems from our desire to make sense of our world; to maintain a feeling that our universe is orderly and can be understood. In this specific case two of our most beloved Presidents were murdered for reasons that make little or no sense to many of us, and by finding patterns in their deaths we also hope to find a larger cosmic “something” that seemingly provides some reassuring (if indefinite) rhyme or reason why these great men were prematurely snatched from our mortal sphere.