Scandalous history: my gr-gr-gr-gr grandma was impregnated by a British redcoat in Worcester, MA (1774ish). She was tried for adultery, but allowed to keep and raise the little bastard Brit 
I worked in a Jazz bar in New Orleans called The Famous Door in 1986. There was an audio/media convention in town. I waited on Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin. It was during the cocaine height. He looked like shit. Skinny as a rail. He was also a very nice person. Unlike some of my coworkers who acted like 12 year old giddy girls when a celebrity came in, I didn’t make a huge deal about anything, and treated him like I did anyone else. He was there with his girlfriend, another couple and a bodyguard. I walked into the bathroom to find his GF snorting a line of coke on the counter. At the end of his stay, I did ask for his autograph. He gave me two - one for me and one for my father. And he left me a $50 tip.
About 3 years ago I brought the autograph in to my work to show a colleague who loves Led Zeppelin. It was on a small piece of paper. He made a photocopy of it, and then I promptly stuck it in my back pocket. I did laundry that night. :smack:
Ummm. . .the one at Tule Lake that we were touring.
My husband grandfather was Louis Zamperini’s (the movie Unbroken) commanding officer.
When I was in high school my best friend escaped the fall of the Shah - as in her parents put her on a plane to France with her younger sister when she was thirteen - there weren’t enough seats for them to get out. She came to school one day upset - she’d learned from the news that her uncle had been executed - he’d been part of the Shah’s government.
Thought of another…
My uncle was an accountant and worked at airplane manufacturer North American. When I started flying planes he asked if I’d ever heard of Bob Hoover. That’s a bit like asking a basketball fan if he’s heard of Michael Jordan. Turns out every year he worked with Hoover on their exhibition at the Paris Airshow. Said he was exactly the souther gentleman he appears to be.
My wife had the cooler brushes:
*She and a girlfriend sneaked off, drove to Washington, DC, and walked to the Lincoln Memorial just in time to hear MLK’s “I have a dream” speech.
*She was at the Beatles’ Shea Stadium concert in 1965.
*She has a thank-you letter, sent to her and signed by Jim Jones
I exchanged a couple of “emails” with him back in the early days of the internet myself!
I really liked one of his stories…where someone important told him that a landing gear had to be designed to take an 18 foot drop and still not break…and he worked and worked and worked on it…deciding it was impossible he asked again…turns out 18’ not equal 18" 
Ohh…and Carter, president that is. I had lunch (a couple of times actually) with one of his major economic advisors…nice guy…he vacationed in our little burb and liked the hole in the wall Thai place I frequented at the time.
I worked with a woman whose father was a bodyguard for the Shah.
I was a hospice worker for 13 years. Among my clients, I knew:
*A man who had been part of the first-wave landings on D-Day. He had a Silver Star among his mounted military decorations and I always wondered what he did to earn that medal. But he never talked about it and obviously I didn’t ask.
*A man who was a medic the battle of the bulge.
*A man who was in Tokyo Bay during the Japanese surrender on Sept. 2nd 1945. He wasn’t on the Missouri, but an adjacent ship. A minesweeper, IIRC
*As a hospice worker I met three (that I am aware of) holocaust survivors. One had the tattoo. As a history student in college I met two other holocaust survivors.
*A German immigrant who had been in the Hitler Youth during the war.
Additionally,
*When I was growing up an elderly couple lived next door. We were out in the sticks and didn’t have any kids around to play with, so when were bored we would go over to the old couple’s house and visit.
The wife had been a switchboard operator back in the 30’s at Crater Lake Lodge in Oregon. At one point during her employment FDR (who was president at the time) and Eleanor visited for a few days. During their stay they would get telegrams that would be sent to their rooms. A friend of my neighbor’s was working as a maid and instead of tossing those telegrams out with the rest of trash she would sneak them out. She gave one to my neighbor who kept it all those years… up to the 90’s when we lived next door. She let me hold it couple times but as god is my witness I don’t remember what it said, although I remember it was addressed to Eleanor. At the time I’m not sure I understood its significance. Unfortunately when the couple passed away their son, who lived in Canada, came down with a pickup, took a few sentimental items, gave the furniture to Salvation Army, and paid a junk hauler to take the rest to the landfill. I suspect that old telegram is buried in the dump, long lost and all but forgotten
*One of my college professors had taught Chris Stevens (the diplomat killed in Benghazi in 2012) when Stevens was an undergrad. According to my professor, who had worked for the state department for several years, it was he who had encouraged Stevens to go to work for the state department. When he talked about it he suddenly had this deflated, beaten demeanor. I suspect he felt some personal guilt over it.
*And finally I knew three of the victims of the Umpqua Community College shooting.
While no one could blame him…one can certainly understand the undeserved guilt over such a thing:(
Former Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert is a close friend of a friend of the family. Close enough, I’ve been told, that Phone Calls were Made once when a family member had some post-9-11 related red tape almost cause their international wedding plans to be cancelled.
Oh, and my mother’s father was involved in the retaking / reoccupation of a WWII concentration camp. He didn’t talk about it, ever. He did get very, very angry at Holocaust deniers.
The maintenance supervisor who worked for me in Mali in 1995 was an older French expat who had been with the French Underground in WWII. He was caught by the Nazis and spent the remainder of the war in one of their POW camps. The first American he ever saw was a GI who helped liberate the camp.
Fifteen or so years ago Wil Wheaton contacted me via email about something I’d mentioned on Fark. The conversation went on over several days. He seemed like a decent sort.
My dad’s best friend was in the World Trade Center on 9/11. He was on the first floor buying doughnuts for a meeting when the plane hit. He discovered that everyone else at the meeting also got out safely, fortunately.
Also, my father in law was William Carlos Williams’ mail carrier.
My father was friends with L. Ron Hubbard. I have an autographed copy of Dianetics.
And on the not exactly famous front my father-in-law won a gold medal at the Senior Olympics.
Couldn’t help being involved at least at second or third hand with some significant names in the sciences.
–One of my TAs was the grand nephew of Wolfgang Pauli
–I worked indirectly with Arthur Kantrowitz, president of the L-5 Society, fouynder of Avco Everett Research Labs, and inventor of lots of stuff
–I co-authored two papers with Ron McNair, one of the astronauts on the shuttle Challenger.
– I worked in Harold E. “Doc” Edgerton’s strobe lab.
–My first boss after grad school was on the Citizens’ Advisory Council on National Space Policy (A group that included astronauts, scientists, engineers, SF writers, and SF fans. Larry Niven, Robert Heinlein, Jerry Pournelle – who was chairman – and Greg Benford, among others, were members.) I note that the Wikipedia page on the group doesn’t list his name, though. He wasn’t a science fiction fan, and never mentioned the writers in the committee.
When I worked in a neurophysiology lab, I once took a phone call from Eric Kandel who left a message for my boss. I wrote “Call Eric Kandel @ xxx-xxx-xxxx, ext xxx” on the dry-erase board.
My boss forbade anyone from erasing the message, saying he “needed the number” for future use.
I’ve got one - I’m not sure it counts as history except in the field of true crime / notorious ass history but its a pretty good story.
The case in question was the Easthampton murder of Ted Ammon, in which a crazy woman named Generosa Ammon had an affair with a sleazebag electrician/general contractor whom she later married after doing all sorts of fun stuff like putting him up at a suite at the Plaza Hotel on her husband’s dime. Her husband was brutally murdered and the sleazebag contractor, a guy named Danny Pelosi, was convicted of her murder.
If you are unfamiliar with the case here’s a quick link
Please note that Generosa Ammon had a jealousy problem- to put it mildly.
Back in the late 1990’s I was working as a sales rep for a company that made high end lighting products. I got a call from a customer of mine, an electrical contractor, telling me he had a customer that was interested in a certain product and asking me to drop by the construction site with a sample.
I show up at the Ammon townhouse which was under renovation. I find my customer and show him the sample and he goes to find “the boss” - when I asked who “the boss” was - general contractor, owner’s rep, owner? my customer blushed scarlet and hemmed and hawed and I never got an answer
The this guy who was sort of good looking in a Long Island greaseball kind of way comes into the room, sees me – a somewhat attractive young woman – standing in the entryway of the house and immediately freaks out. He pulls my customer into the other room and I overhear him say something like “what were you thinking, she’ll be here any minute now”.
Then he comes back into the room, glances at the sample I’m holding and says “She’s not going to like it, you need to leave RIGHT NOW before she sees it”. I’m kind of thinking “WTF?, I’m not forcing anyone to buy anything? Is she going to attack me if I bring a product sample she doesn’t like?” Maybe if someone tells me why they don’t like it I can show them something else?"
But I found myself being escorted to the door by this sleazeball who insisted I had to leave NOW.
So I left, and chalked it up to crazy rich people.
It was a few years later when the murder story was all over the paper that I thought the names sounded familiar. I checked my old sales notes and found the appointment record - Ammon Residence, Danny Pelosi. So I did finally find out why I was given the bum’s rush. And if Ms. Ammon had come to the house 10 minutes earlier that day I might have changed history.
And may years later ( about 3 years ago ), I was invited by another contractor to give a proposal on some work at the murder house which was now in trust for the Ammon children. Nothing ever came of that but I did get an in-depth tour of the “murder house”, which was a totally unremarkable Easthampton house except for being a famous crime scene.
He was an American prisoner guest of the Germans in a POW type camp.
Also my great grandfather was 5 or 6 when the Civil War started and his 3 older brothers joined the Union Army. One died at Cold Harbor, the other at Andersonville. The 3rd came home all messed up and basically relied on his family and younger brother all his life afterwards. Back then no one knew what it was, of course we know that now as PTSD
I’ve mentioned this many times, but my grandfather was friends with Albert Einsten and Benjamin Britten had a crush on my father.