"These Proceedings are Closed"

The Old Man watched a video clip of General Douglas MacArthur's comments today. Those were the words he used when representatives of the Japanese government had completed signing the official surrender that brought World War II to a close. It was 63 years ago today, September 2, 1945. I was four years old, and while I sometimes have to think about why I came into the kitchen, I remember that time clearly.

The more poignant memory of those days was from a couple of weeks earlier, August 14, 1945. That's the day the Japanese said, "That's it, we quit."

There were a couple of huge mimosa trees in our yard in Bedford. They served many valuable purposes. One became the tree where Tarzan lived, and from which Superman flew. The other was the B-17 that I "flew" on glorious missions. But I'm ahead of myself. More about the mimosas in future posts. On this sultry August evening, mimosa #1 was busy fulfilling its prime purpose; shade for the family to sit in these great old wooden Adirondack chairs and catch the wisps of breeze. My dad was smoking his cigar and talking about the events of the day with my mom. I was generally messing about.

There were several factories in our town. At least one had a loud whistle that blew to signal each shift change; 7:00 A.M., 3:00 P.M., and 11:00 P.M. The town kept routines on track by the whistles. Bedford also had a siren that sounded to call all of the volunteer firemen to duty when the need arose. Suddenly, all the whistles erupted and the siren blasted the evening stillness.

My dad said, "Well the war's over." I remember saying to him, "Now will Uncle Doc and Uncle Tom come home?" Tom was my dad's brother, and "Doc" was dad's brother-in-law. Both very special giants to a four year old. My answer was a simple "Yes, son. Thank goodness". I hear it in my mind to this day.

We all loaded into the car and drove over to the courthouse area. In those days there was a traffic circle (Bedford folks called it a "turn-around" as I recall) in front of the courthouse. The street was full of cars honking, people cheering, folks dancing, and all sorts of celebrations. While I didn't know about it then, I'm quite sure some glass containers with aromas that hinted at corn were in attendance as well.

I'm told I fell asleep on my dad's shoulder somewhat later after asking him, "Why was that man kissing momma?" Later Mom and I shared a laugh about that because it seems it was "open season" on celebratory kissing. Sorry I missed that.

Doc and Tom did finally come home, and life resumed. But there were sad stories as well; the Bedford boy who survived the Bataan Death March and suffered from bad health for the rest of his life, the many families who suffered the ultimate loss, and all of those who awoke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. They didn't have many fancy names for it then, but we all knew. We all knew why this one or that one jumped and shook when a car backfired. We all knew the ones who didn't have much to say and certainly were never asked about their experiences. The Old Man and all the rest of us owe a debt to the "Docs and Toms" of the world without whom we would not have the opportunity to enjoy our lives.

Both of those old mimosas are gone now, as well as Doc and Tom. But I was there.....and I remember.