<HTML><FONT FACE=arial,helvetica><FONT SIZE=2 FAMILY="SANSSERIF" FACE="Arial" LANG="0">I am a charter member of the "baby boomers" born Dec. 1946, so my "memories" of WWII and of the depression are second hand of course. But two of the stories have stood out for my whole life and have perhaps helped to form some of my life today.<BR>
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Mama would start the story about Dec. 7, 1941 the same way every time she ironed. They were living on Fairmount in Eugene, in a pretty little house with a garden and a fence, and were having a Christmas party. (now, I have always questioned the accuracy of this...but it was her consistant memory, and time was never her strong suit!)....The men were drinking (their usual pastime) and the radio was on and they were dancing around on the "shiny hardwood floors" when the announcement was made about the attack on Pearl Harbor. Mama was holding a Haig and Haig bottle at the time...and that is why she always related the story when she was ironing...that bottle has been the "sprinkling" bottle ever since in our family, I still have it. Their lives were changed forever of course at that moment. They moved from that house, Daddy went into the army and was wounded on Normandy, Mama went to Portland and was a welder in the shipyards, her nickname was "Brownie" because her leather suit was brown and she was so thin that they would send her into really tight places where the men couldn't fit to weld. <BR>
The depression stories were so numerous, it was such a difficult time for so many. Her stories of how to make dinner out of nothing, and how to re do clothing over and over to make it continue to provide service but with a penache of style....all have rooted deeply within me. I need to start the winter with a full pantry...a throwback to to the full fruit cupboard of my youth....mama always felt if the pantry was full nothing else would really matter...and of course if the wood box was full with more cords waiting. That was luxury. It is 2003...I now live in Michigan, and when any kind of emergency occurs I have an inordinate need to fill my pantry. This was the case on 9/11....I filled a shelf with tuna (it was on sale)...and it relieved my anxiety immensely. Of course it increased my family's as they were all concerned that that was what they were going to eat forever and ever! I ended up donating most of it to the local food pantry a couple of weeks later. But, the point is that so much is ingrained in us...and it is good stuff...the stuff of survival. I am concerned that my nine children and their families are not going to be equipped to withstand much adversity. <BR>
I am making grape jelly this week from a son's grape vines....he let them rot on the vine last year as his wife didn't know what to do with them (not a criticism)...so I am making some jelly this year, and also going to make some wine......and maybe I will start a new tradition and put some of the wine in the Haig and Haig bottle......and while sharing it at table with the 30 member family I now have, tell them the stories of survival....they may find them useful someday.<BR>
Joy Tomseth Franklin<BR>
Chelsea Michigan </FONT></HTML>