Some of the earliest memories in my life were of war. Even though I was very young, I remember being terrified at the sound of airplanes, especially at night. Even more frightening were the mandated blackouts. Sirens would wail, and all lights were to be turned off. My parents took it very seriously and our house would be plunged into darkness. At times, my father would serve as warden, I think the term was, and would have to drive around a certain perimeter to make sure all lights were extinguished. He would insert a piece of folded cardboard over his car's headlights while he made the rounds, low beams deflected downward.
There were other signs of war: ration stamp booklets, the unavailability of food and other products, and my parents' reading the daily newspaper for the accounts of the war and the death counts.
After Pearl Harbor, the country lived in constant fear of other attacks, of more bombs exploding on our soil. But that will never happen here, right?
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