...was attacked 68 years ago today. I was five years old. I don't remember that day but i remember things that happened during those times. I remember almost nothing about my father - who was off again, on again with my mother until their divorce was final. I do remember though, asking him why he didn't have to go to the war. He told me it was because he was '4F' - and when i asked him what that meant he told me it was because he had flat feet!!!?
Now i know he was alcoholic. I also know he was eleven years older than my mother which means he was about 36 years old at the time.
I also remember when the war ended. I was nine years old at the time. We lived in a two apartment house in a primarily Italian-American neighborhood. My mom had banned my father from ever coming around to see us - their four kids. My new dad was not yet in the picture. He was in that war... a nephew to two of my mom's best friends in the neighborhood.
People were making noise with whatever means available... mostly tooting their car horns. Everybody was happy. It was a really good day!