I have the fondest memories of Tom MacNevin, Frank Perry and Chippie Fitzgerald. I worked in the Master Mechanic's office for four years and I have never forgotten them. I often refer to those years as my "glory years."
I recall the day that Pearl Harbor was bombed. Rumors had been trickling in about the Nazi atrocities, but not too many were concerned. We had our doves and parades promoting peace. Then Pearl Harbor!.. Everyone wanted to retaliate. The following day, there were lines at the recruiting office. We had been attacked.
Draper Corporation was transformed into an ammunition plant. Guards were posted at each entrance and we were compelled to show our identification cards (photographs, etc.) Security was tight. This was war.
Rationing was introduced. Each family was given stamps. Meat, butter, gas and various items were allotted to each family. Silk stockings were a luxury. Nylon had not yet been invented. It was not unusual to wear a stocking that had been mended. But, most of the women in the offices dressed well; fashionable dresses and high heels. Women who replaced male labor wore slacks.
Because of the draft, the "big band" era seemed to slowly fade away. Saturday nights had been dance nights. With all eligible boys in the service, girls sought other types of entertainment. (Click here to read Hermina's account of the Draper softball teams during the war years.)
The war seemed endless. We had to wait for news. Every letter was censored. Soon, dreaded black telegrams began to arrive, informing a family that a son or a brother had been killed in action.
My brother Tony enlisted in the Navy. He spent most of his time in the service attending classes, even though he kept volunteering for active duty. My mother kept praying that he would be spared. Finally, the Navy allowed him to go to Japan. While he was in the middle of the Pacific, the U.S. dropped two atomic bombs and the war was over.
After all those years (seemed so much longer at the time), the home front went wild when news arrived of the victory. People from Mendon Street and Mendon came to White City to celebrate.
My mother went into her room to say a prayer of thanksgiving. Everyone else on the Hill got a bit tipsy-all, except my father. He saw a chance to get some free drinks. Most of our neighbors had some alcoholic drinks in their homes. My father disappeared into the night. He came home at midnight-sober! "English woman-she kept giving me tea-tea-tea! And, she could not stop talking." Everyone was excited. The war was over. Hermina Cichanowicz Marcus, December 2002.
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