Autumn days, just before winter sets in, is my favorite time of year, but along with it comes many memories of past years.
When one gets “long in the tooth,” as my Gran used to say, often times events and people come to mind. Maybe that’s God’s way of letting us take stock of ourselves and the lives we have led. Did we do the things that were dreamed of or was it all one compromise after another? Have we shown family and friends what they mean to us by being there in time of need? Perhaps a kind or encouraging word is all it took.
Being human with a conscience, there are always regrets. If you look at it this way, being human is a tough job — always wanting to do the right thing then sliding back. I was taught by my mother when I complained, “Life was not meant to be fair but lived.”
For me, in my progression over the years, I have found peace within myself and faith is my comfort. Today I am still blessed with a busy and active mind. Some are not so fortunate. Oh, sure, I forget where I left the keys, or can’t find that note I wrote to remember something, but ask me what I remember about Pearl Harbor or other events and I can tell you every detail of the day.
I still remember my folks knowing something was in the wind after receiving mail from mother’s older brother, Forrest, who was in the Army Air Force in 1939 and the 1940s. It was yet to become one Air Force until WWII. He was stationed in Borneo, just north of Java, Indonesia, and was warning what was coming before long. As a child I had no idea what it was all about, or why the whispers after letters came, and Java was just slang for coffee. I liked to look at the beer labels and the black and white pictures he sent, thinking he was at the end of the world. I guess in that day it really was.
It still seems like a bad dream. I was the first to hear the paperboy trotting down our little street yelling “Extra, Extra”, and something about war. After waking the folks after a late night out, I was sent flying after the paperboy. Running back, I saw people talking and crying over fences, still in robes and slippers. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the white faces of my parents when I reached home. The radio was on and they were quietly sitting and listening. Uncle Forrest had been right, but Pearl Harbor bombed — a real shock!
My stepfather, William, joined the Navy as a medic and mom took a job at Boeing, welding on the wings of the first B-29 bomber. She was frozen on the job, meaning you didn’t up and quit, and I became the babysitter for my brother and two little sisters. My own father was not able to join the service and went to work for Todd Shipyard until he retired.
We’d come through a world depression to WWII, and when the war was over, there were again some hard times, but we picked up, fought for unions and a strong economic base for a middle income.
We dreamed of a good education, jobs with decent wages, and safe working conditions for our children. We did achieve our goals and will again because Americans are a tough mix of people — knock ’em down and when they have had enough, you can always bet they will come up swinging … and again there is always hope.
Happy holidays to all.
— Contact Jacque Thornton at jacquejt@centurytel.net
