Memories from Dec. 7, 1941
I was a very happy 11- year-old on December 7, 1941. I was skating at a rink on South Main Street when I saw my Dad coming to pick me up 30 minutes early. I wasn’t happy to leave but he explained “We are at war and need to be home.”
There were strange times ahead. My mother saved her bacon drippings in tin cans and took them to a desig...