A Day that will Live in INFAMY
Mother sent me to get Dad from the barn. A special radio program was coming on that we needed to hear. She put on a pot of coffee, as it was cold out, and tended to my little brother, Don. We gathered around the old wooden upright Victor radio, crackling with static and noise.
The Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor, sinking several ships and killing hundreds of Americans. We sat in silence as the reports went on and on. I was 8 years old, unable to fathom what was happening but somehow realized our world was going to change. I became scared.
Dad and Mother started talking, mostly wondering what would happen next. I think the first thing they discussed was Dad’s age of 39 years.
