Some numbers don’t just repeat—they ripple through time. Forty-seven is one of them.

On December 5, 1847, Abraham Lincoln was sworn into the U.S. House of Representatives. A century later, on January 3, 1947, John F. Kennedy followed that same path, stepping into the halls of Congress. Two presidents, born a century apart, both elevated by destiny—and both struck down by an assassin’s bullet.

Their lives would spiral into uncanny parallels:

• Lincoln was elected President in 1860; Kennedy in 1960.
• Both were succeeded by men named Johnson—Andrew and Lyndon—born 100 years apart.
• Lincoln had a secretary named Kennedy. Kennedy had a secretary named Lincoln.
• Both were shot in the head, on a Friday, in the presence of their wives.
• Lincoln was shot in Ford’s Theatre; Kennedy in a Lincoln car made by Ford.
• Lincoln’s assassin ran from a theater to a warehouse; Kennedy’s assassin allegedly ran from a warehouse to a theater.
• Lincoln had four children. Kennedy had four children.
• And both were assassinated before they could complete a second term.

Now, in a twist that feels surreal, Donald J. Trump became the 47th President of the United States and survives 2 assassination attempts.

Lincoln. Kennedy. Trump. Three men separated by centuries, yet woven together by coincidence, conflict—and the mysterious mark of 47.

Is it chance? A pattern? Or something deeper—etched into the DNA of American power?