Tuesday, December 5, 2017

No Sign of It


Last week while we were in Athens, Tennessee, we decided to drive out to see where we had lived when we first moved there years ago. I remembered the little house with a garden plot just up the hill where I would take our older daughter to play while I worked in the garden. We brought our second daughter home to this house a few days after she was born. It seemed like an easy thing to do—just see what the place looked like now. 

Our first problem was that although we knew which road to take out of town, we weren’t quite so sure about which road to turn down to the house. I thought I knew, but we passed it up and went on up the road. Meanwhile, I called a friend and asked her if she remembered where we lived at that time. She thought she did and directed me to another road while we were out that far. We turned down that road but found nothing that looked familiar. Finally, we drove on back to the road I thought was the one, and we drove out that way, but nothing looked familiar there either! We have decided that they probably tore the house down and built a new subdivision there.

The experience reminded me of a book I read during the research I did for my upcoming novel. The book is called On the Swing Shift: Building Liberty Ships in Savannah by Tony Cope. Cope says that he was a child during World War II and remembers the shipyards with thousands of workers. When he returned to Savannah a few years ago, he says he was “reminded that few people my age—and almost none of lesser years—remembered anything about that part of Savannah’s participation in the war effort.” 

On the Swing Shift was a valuable resource for me as I read about the shipyards in Savannah and the Liberty Ships built there. Cope interviewed people who had worked there in a number of different capacities, and they were able to describe with precision many experiences they had during those years.

Both my experience in Tennessee and the research for my novel are reminders that things are constantly changing on the landscapes of our lives. If we want to remember them, we’ll have to write them down and make pictures! Many of those who served in World War II and who worked on the home front during those years have died already. If we know any of those who are still with us, it is important that we talk to them and hear their stories NOW!

                                                            

Saturday, November 25, 2017

Nettie and Her Girls


Today I received a picture in the mail of a lady and her three young girls. I was astounded at how beautiful they all were. When I knew them, the mother was in her mid-sixties and the girls were probably in their forties. I was in college at the time and I didn’t think much about their ages. I just knew that they were all much older and wiser than I was. The mother’s name was Nettie. Nettie had suffered a stroke in her early forties, leaving her whole right side paralyzed. At some point after that they had decided to have college girls stay with her to help her with chores in return for room and board. I arrived in the fall of 1962 as a junior in college. I lived with Nettie for the last two years of college as well as the summer after I graduated in June of 1964.

As a result, I got to know two of the daughters quite well. Doris lived near her mother and taught in a local elementary school, and Opal lived in a town about twenty-five miles away and taught at a community college. The third daughter, Ardith, lived in Florida. Although I met her, I really never got to know her.

Nettie (whom I always called Mrs. Lee) was an amazing woman. Although she had no use of her right hand and had to wear a brace on her right leg in order to stand and walk, she cooked lunch for her daughter, her son-in-law, and me every day of the week. She always cooked enough so that she and I would have left-overs for dinner. I learned a lot about being frugal from her meal-planning, but it was later that I realized how much effort it must have taken for her to cook all those meals. Mrs. Lee died just a few months before my older daughter was born, and I always regretted that she did not get to see my first child.

Recently I learned something about Nettie and her three daughters that I had never known before. They all went to Detroit, Michigan, during World War II and worked in an airplane factory. According to the oldest daughter, Opal, it was her youngest sister Doris, who is now deceased, who decided that she wanted to go to Michigan and work.

Along with thousands of other women, they learned that women could work in many fields that they would never have thought of before the war. Also, like most other women, they seldom spoke of those years. I would have thought that during the many conversations I had with Doris, she might have mentioned her work in the airplane factory at some time, but she didn’t. She was a wonderful first grade teacher for many years. Several years after I graduated, she became Dean of Women at the college where I had attended.  I always admired her. Now that I know more of her story, I admire her even more.



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Tuesday, November 7, 2017

The Soldier Prays for Peace

“The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war.”—Gen. Douglas McArthur

As I did research for my fourth novel, I realized that even though I was born right in the middle of World War II, I had been almost entirely shielded from the horrors that many had faced. My dad worked in the shipyards in Baltimore the year I was born, and I knew that sugar and gasoline had been rationed for a while because my mother had kept the rationing stamps. Other than that, my life had been protected from any knowledge of the war. But what if the bombs had been dropped all around me as they had been for those families in London and Paris (and many other places)? As I read about those who had seen unspeakable acts of brutality and violence, I realized how fortunate I have been.

The reality is that war is happening somewhere all the time, and with 24-hour news coverage and constant social media discussions, we hear about it every single day. If we are not careful we just become immune to the horrors of war. Every president has to deal with tensions around the world and how the U.S will relate to them. Often a president will make a decision that seems reasonable to most people, and later we realize that it may have been the wrong one. That just happens. If we really look at the results of bombs and other weapons upon any country, though, we know that many innocent people are always killed in any war. It’s usually not the presidents or the other decision-makers. It’s the young soldiers, the ordinary citizens going about their daily tasks, the mothers, and the young children.

The rationale for war is often that it saves the lives of many while some lives are lost. We should never be too critical of our leaders because sometimes war may be unavoidable, and most of us don’t have the facts needed to make these decisions. However, our leaders have the responsibility of studying all the options. I believe that it is ALWAYS better to find a diplomatic solution if there is one. Not everyone agrees with that. Often leaders who seek peaceful solutions are considered weak and ineffective, because some want leaders who look and act tough. The leaders who have had the most influence on me, however, are those that are good listeners. They set high standards by the way they live, not by the use of force.

Whether it is World War II, the Vietnam War, or the war in Iraq, war always kills many innocent men, women and children. We are extremely fortunate that we have not seen its devastation on our soil in our lifetime. As we look at our options when other countries threaten our safety, our goal should always be a peaceful solution.

Sometimes our country has to make decisions about citizens who flee their  countries because of war. This presents other difficult questions. Obviously we cannot solve all the world’s problems, but sometimes we can help those who need help so badly. My church was involved in helping some refugees from both Vietnam and Iraq when they were in danger. What I learned is that most people are alike. They just want a safe place to live their lives. I haven’t kept up with those we sponsored from Vietnam, but those from Iraq (Kurdistan) have become lifelong friends, and they have contributed immensely to our community. A few months ago we celebrated their twentieth anniversary here by having a meal and a short program, remembering our first days together. Some of them have married, had children, and worked nearly twenty years in our community. It was a great celebration of our friendship.

The most recent conversation regarding refugees has centered around those from Syria. I haven’t been involved with any of these refugees, but I listened to an activist named Lena Arkawi, who is particularly concerned about the Syrian refugees because her parents were born there. Ms. Arkawi was born and raised in Arizona. When she was asked about her purpose as an activist, she said that she just didn’t want people to become numb to the pain of these Syrian children. If you’d like to listen to her story, it was on a program called “Uncomfortable,” which offers conversations with influential people about issues which divide Americans. You can find it here:

I found this picture of three children who are refugees from Syria on the World Vision website.
Syria refugee crisis: 5.1 million people have fled Syria's civil war as refugees, straining the region's ability to cope and to care for the needs of displaced children.More information about the refugee crisis can be found here:  https://www.worldvision.org/refugees-news-stories/syria-refugee-crisis-war-facts

When I hear stories about these refugees, I am reminded of how fortunate I am to have lived in a country where I haven’t had to face the horrors of war. I did nothing to deserve this kind of good fortune. I realize that because I have been given much, much is expected of me. I also realize that war is born of hatred and division, not love and unity. Our country today has become very divided, with little evidence of a desire for peace, and this concerns me. I believe that “Love never fails,” but it’s easy to become burdened down by circumstances. Right now, I am watching our young people. Their willingness to engage in meaningful dialogue and their concern for others is inspiring. I encourage you to watch and listen to them too. In closing, I will quote Martin Luther King, Jr.: “I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.

Merrill J. Davies, Writer, Facebook Page: http://on.fb.me/1HHkUXf
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Wednesday, October 25, 2017

Finding the Unknown



Several years ago I read a book by YA author Annie Laura Smith called The Legacy of Bletchley Park. Bletchley Park is in England, and the book is about the code-breakers during WWII. It is fiction of course, but a group of codebreakers did work there and helped hasten the end of the war.

I never thought about those who might have worked in similar ways in the U.S.—until I met Lou. Lou worked as a codebreaker in Washington, D.C., during WWII and is one of the many “Rosie” women who contributed to the war effort. In her nineties, she is a perky lady with a great sense of humor and obviously a very bright woman. She worked with the Signal Corps and later married a sailor who was a medic and was wounded as he rescued a friend at Iwo Jima.

In talking about her work as a codebreaker, Lou said that when she started the job she was told that “If you tell anyone, even where you work, the penalty will be death. You will be put before the firing squad.” When I heard her say this, I had wondered whether she might be exaggerating until I read an article by David L. Boslaugh (Capt., USN, Retired) in which he said that in his interviews with people who had been involved in post war codebreaking computers, they were usually open about their work, but not when he asked about World War II activities. Then he said, “It seems that a security officer’s admonition, ‘If you ever talk about your work here we can have you shot,’ was very effective” (Boslaugh Article). I also learned that David Kahn has written a book called The Codebreakers—the Story of Secret Writing. If you are interested in that aspect of the war, you might want to check it out.

Like many other women (and men) who worked on the home front during the war, Lou didn’t know the exact significance of her work, but she had the sense that it was important. She says that her job was to “find the unknown.”  The workers, (all women, she says), put the numbers into three different categories before giving their results to the Sergeants, who then actually decoded the messages. You can learn more about Lou’s story by visiting the Kennesaw University’s Museum of the Holocaust, where they have what is called “The Legacy Series.” It is also on line at http://historymuseum.kennesaw.edu/ .





Monday, October 9, 2017

RISING STARS


A few weeks ago I attended a session of National Geographic’s Explorer Classroom at Georgia Highlands in Rome, Georgia, where students actually see and talk to scientists deep in a cave in South Africa. You can actually watch the session here:   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmXbd4zIFVE . The technology is amazing these days, and I was especially excited to see the session because one of my former students, Hannah Morris, was one of the scientists who made an exciting discovery four years ago, and she was back for another excavation with the Rising Star Expedition. You can learn more about the expedition here: 
One of the things which interests me about the whole expedition is that all the scientists who went into the cave were women. Dr. Berger introduced the three who were in the cave during the classroom experience as “some of the brightest and most skilled scientists” in the country. My former student mentioned that she is close to completing her Ph. D., and that the other two have already completed theirs. Listening to the three of them describe their experiences and their process for this particular excavation left no doubt that these are exceptional scientists.
What was of particular significance to me in reference to my recent research was that not too many years ago these bright young scientists would not have been able to participate in this exciting expedition. Although many say that there is still much work to be done in the area of making opportunities for female scientists equal to those for men, one thing is clear: the work that women had to do out of necessity during World War II was the beginning of a trend in women’s role in the workplace, including in the field of science. It continued during the Cold War in  the 1950’s.
According to Proceedings of the National Academy of the Sciences (PNAS), women have made great strides in the field of science since 1970 (http://www.pnas.org/content/108/8/3157.full ). That fact is evident in looking at the Rising Star Expedition, but I don’t believe that could have ever happened without the work of all those women during WWII, who proved that women can do anything men can!

Merrill J. Davies, Writer, Facebook Page:http://on.fb.me/1HHkUXf
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Wednesday, September 27, 2017

The Greatest Generation



Back in 1991, when my dad was 83 years old and my mother was about 79, they got their “fifteen minutes of fame” when a man forced his way into their home because he was being chased by the local police. During the incident, the man shot and injured a deputy just outside my parents’ home, and several bullets came through their walls during the efforts to take him into custody. Luckily my parents were not hurt. My mother had just returned from the hospital following a heart attack and was in bed. I was surprised she didn’t have another heart attack during that encounter!

When she called to report the incident the next day, I asked my mother whether they would be able to sleep that night after all that had happened, and her answer was typical for her. “Well, I guess we will. We went on to sleep last night after all those police cars left.” (About 15 cars I think!)  That experience would have traumatized most of us for days, weeks, maybe months or years. For them, it was just another bump in the road.

My parents’ generation is often referred to as the “Greatest Generation.” They lived through the Great Depression and World War II, and they were strong people. Most of them have passed on now and we have only the memories of their lives. Recently I have done research on the era that produced that great generation for my next novel and have learned much about how they changed our way of life, especially the lives of women. I will be sharing some of the things I have learned in the next few blog posts.

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