“Once in a while my mother used to get some sorghum and some ginger and mix us up a batch of gingerbread,” said Lincoln, who grew up in a modest household in rural Kentucky. “It wasn’t often, and it was our biggest treat. One day I smelled it and came into the house to get my share while it was hot. I found she had baked me three gingerbread men, and I took them out under a hickory tree to eat them.”Photo © CORBIS.