It was a time when families gathered around the radio, and ate at the kitchen table. A time when if you had 5 cents, you had lots of friends.

It was a time when mothers sat on porches, and knew about whatever was going on. It was a time when everybody was rooting for the Allies.

It was 1943. FDR was president, and we believed with him at the helm, we could win. Hell, he had already proved it with the New Deal, why not now?

My younger sister, Trudy, was eight, and I twelve. Dad had been fortunate enough that he had a bad back, so they didn’t send him away. I didn’t care, so long as he’d still play football with me.

Everynight, we’d listen to hear progress… if there was any. And sometimes, we’d just listen to the sounds of Brooklyn.