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Dorothy Copus Brush Another day that will live in infamy Twice in my lifetime I have heard those words,
"a day that will live in infamy." Before the day ended
after the second act that brought forth those words, we had been
in touch with all our family scattered around the country. Each
conversation ended with "I love you." Our daughter in Colorado asked, "Was
Pearl Harbor like this?" I couldn't answer that question
then. It took me some time to sort through all those memories
from so long ago. I am one of 12 percent of people still living
who remembers that first day of infamy, Dec. 7, 1941. Now I can
say no, that lovely December Sunday was much different from the
sunny September morning in New York City. When the first news came, it was through the
radio. We heard the unbelievable in the descriptive words of
trusted voices. The pictures filtered through later. First in
the newspapers, and then at the movies by the Fox Movietone
news, which always preceded the feature picture. There was not
the 24-hour assault on our senses as now. We were able to process
the happenings more slowly The first news of Pearl Harbor came at noon,
and that Sunday evening the man I was to marry went with me to
a church service. All these years later, I remember how strange
it was that the minister made no mention of what had happened
that day. Today's most often heard song is "God
Bless America," and although Kate Smith first introduced
that Irving Berlin classic on Nov. 11, 1938, it was not heard
as often in those first days of World War II. It was "Praise
the Lord and Pass the Ammunition" which was the song on
everyone's lips. One phrase we have heard over and over is,
"Our world is changed forever." But has it? My husband
mused, "Our marriage 59 years ago began with war and it
seems will end with war." Before we were born, as World
War I began Rudyard Kipling wrote his poem "For All We Have
and Are," expressing his despair. In wantonness o'erthrown There is nothing left today But steel and fire and stone! Three newspapers arrive on our doorstep each
day. In addition to the many stories and pictures of courage
and horror, they have been filled with full-page paid ads expressing
sympathy from companies and organizations. Only one packed so
much emotion in its simplicity. It was placed by the Catholic
Health Initiatives Memorial Hospital in the Chattanooga paper.
The full page of white space was bordered in black, and in the
center, were four bold, black letters: Pray. · · · |