Good night from yankee occupied Dixieland CSA yall. It was about this time on a Saturday night 73 years ago when I was 4 years old, when I went to bed with everything seemingly okay around the world. But when I awoke at about 8 am the next morning the news on the old tube type radio was blaring the bad news that the Empire of Japan had bombed some U. S. ships and aircraft that were parked at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Now I had never even heard of Pearl Harbor, Japan or even Hawaii. And the word bomb had no meaning to me either. But I had heard a stick of dynamite explode in a new water well that was being dug at our house near Duluth, Ga. I thought the world had ended when that thing blasted off and mud and rocks flew out the top of that well and scattered the debri every where I thought I was going to lose my mind and wet my britches; which, to be honest, I did. Then when my daddy woke up and heard the news he explained the whole thing to my mother, me and my 2 older brothers. Then it was only a day or 2 when we began to hear the news that, thousands of young men were being drafted and volunteering for military service and to fight the Japanese after President Roosevelt called on the Congress for a declaration of war on them on 8 December, 1941. Then the news came on 11 December that Germany, being an ally of Japans, declared war on the U.S. Then a few months later the bad news about U.S. casualties started coming in from both theaters of WW II. 23 young men from our small community in Gwinnett County lost their lives in that very short amount of time and I use to go up on the dais at church to see the little red, white and blue banners, each with a fallen friend or neighbors name and the date of his death on it. Then I would ask my mother to tell me whose name was on each one of those little banners, and I cried with each name because I knew that soldier. Then mother would tell me that I should go sit with the congregation and Preacher Hogan would tell her it was okay for me to stay up there, so she let me and I would spend the duration of Preacher Hogans sermon looking at my friends and neighbors banners and crying over their deaths and still not understanding what bombing and killing people in a war was all about. Then my daddy would explain that and read articles to us from the Atlanta Journal & Constitution every day until the war ended. Then for a long time after that, I would remember a soldiers name that I had known for the short time that I had had the opportunity to enjoy some time with them while they still lived among us. May they all rest in peace. Amen! Thank you all and good night America.
Posted on: Sat, 06 Dec 2014 02:01:54 +0000
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