Of course Alzheimer’s disease existed in 1954. 

It’s just that the people you and I think of as having the disease wouldn’t have had it back then. Or at least be able to say they had Alzheimer’s.

Until the 1970s, a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease was limited to people in their 40s, 50s and 60s who experienced memory loss and other signs of dementia.

But once the definition changed, it turned out that the majority of elderly people diagnosed with dementia had Alzheimer’s. 

It also turned out that, with a population that was living longer, there were so many more cases.  

One of them would be my father. 

So my family and 6 million other American families understand, in a way people just didn’t 70 years ago, how devastating Alzheimer’s is. It exploded into our consciousness with all the pain a disease can deliver. And if affects one in 16 people over the age of 65, according to the National Institute on Aging.

My father passed away seven years ago today. I’ve tried to block out the memories of his last years and focus on what made him great – his sense of humor, his ability to tell a story, his way with words and the strength of his love and devotion to his family.

But as I and my peers reach these later years, the fear of Alzheimer’s gets more real. I’m not sure how to stop it – we keep hoping for a real cure. But I sure as hell am going to try.