I belong to the early segment of Baby Boomers; we were lucky to have small town America mixed with the great spirits of the war being over. We were born knowing we had won. We reaped the benefits. My mother’s school was called into the gym on Monday, December 8,1941 to hear President Roosevelt’s speech. My father was driving back to Gary from having been in his hometown of Kingman, I don’t know who is was with, but I remember him saying he turned to the guy and said, “Well,  I guess we’ll be going soon.”

Six days later my grandmother mailed him a letter and in it you can hear the worry about the war and the tight times of The Great Depression. I think she had not yet grasped, however, just what a tremendous endeavor was looming.

Of course, he did go and he made his allotment out to her . . . and every time it came, she walked up to the bank and put it into an account for him  . . . for when he would come home. I once heard someone remark about still being able to see her making those regular trips.