DUSTY'S THEN AND NOW

Again, I have decided, not to write my usual column. How can I in all fairness? On September 11, 2001, terrorists attacked us!

This time it was New York City. On December 7,1941, they attacked us at Pearl Harbor.

Around us is nothing but sadness. Families are destroyed. Buildings that held many businesses and the people who worked in them. The buildings can be rebuilt.

The families cannot! My heart grieves for all. The victims the dead, the rescue workers, and the volunters, the medical personnel, who have shown up from towns whose names we do not even, know. The streets were lined with thankful New Yorkers holding signs and flags and cheering as help and supplies began to arrive in their city. The New Yorkers, who admitted that they were none caring about anyone, became a family! Friends and enemies stood side-by-side and helped with and in anyway they could.

The stores that opened their doors to admit people and help them clean up after the buildings collapsed, the trays of food held out by strangers to strangers who came to help.

Today I am in the Poconos writing this. This morning we went to the flea market and I expected to see price gouging for the flag and any symbol of America. There was not! We rode into East Stroudsburg to the K-mart, no flags, for sale, but I noticed trailers parked in front of donation areas and filling up rapidly, I saw flags on homes, on lawns, lining driveways, and business, flying the flag half-mast.

As my husband sat in the K-mart restaurant waiting for me and sipping coffee, a Senior Citizen approached him for a donation, she pinned a ribbon on him. When I sat down to have my coffee she came over and apologized because all her ribbons were gone.� If I knew he had someone with him I would have made sure you got a ribbon also, I am so sorry� I gave her the donation and told her not to worry. She came back a few minutes later with a red, white, and blue ribbon and a safety pin and said �here I found this and you should have one to,� My eyes teared and she proceeded to tell me that last night 72 of the residence where she lived had a candle light vigil and sang 4 hymns. She was proud of what she and the others had done and with all right to be!

We talked for a few minutes and I told my husband, that what I have noticed that it was our seniors who were forming the front line at home!

As we rode home, I noticed more flags had been displayed along Rt. 209. I felt proud being an American. I am second generation born here. I don�t remember WW11, but I remember distant cousin who was in the �Death March on Batan� how he held me close to him and so tight I had to tell him that he was hurting me. How he put out a cigarette in his sister�s rug and not a trace was left, nor was there a burn mark. Later he was sent to hospital to receive care. I never was to see him again, and never to hear from him. I remember ration books and Grammy doing without things and trading with neighbors so that she could bake bread, how we had a garden and chickens, ducks and turkeys. Exchanging vegetables and fruits from our back yard garden obtained them.

I remember fruit and vegetables being sent to a family whose �father was in the war�; my older cousins coming with kerosene for our lights and a few matches that were shared among the family. I remember the men in our family going higher into the mountain gathering wood or cutting down trees and dragging them home to be use for heat and cooking. I remember a farmer friend who brought us pork and beef when he butchered what a treat that was to us and that meager amount he shared with us was shared with my Great-aunt and her family of five.

I Remember packages made up after the war and being sent to my Grammy�s Mother and father and sister�s in Czechoslovakia, and money and medicine hidden inside for them. Mother worked in Harrisburg and on my birthday, she showed up in school with cupcakes! How she managed that on a ration book I don�t know and she pinned a corsage on me made of stamps. And it had red white and blue ribbons on it.

I am watching the children play outside which is a good thing. Parents should keep life normal for the children right now. They fly up and down the road in front of the trailer and squeal; it�s coming down the side of the mountain that keeps them excited and daring. I hope they can grow up with no wars in their future.

I have the local radio station on and they play a song from WW11, every now and then. �Bell-Bottom Trousers, Until We Meet Again, You Belong to Me, PS, I Love You� I could go on, but you remember them.

I see people growing anxious, frightened, confused, closer, turning to their religion and some are in denial.

Today I was in K-Mart again, I ran into the same lady, and she told me that she and four others held a candle light vigil out side the store the other night and some people passed by them giving them the �thumbs up� and others rode by without noticing.

Make no mistake, war is coming. It will not be a war like WW11, Korea or Viet Nam. It will be long and hard and we will have to make sacrifices. But we will make it. We will not be held down and we will overcome.

Let us hope we can be as brave as our Parents and Grandparents were. With the help of our God, or whatever deity you believe in. Believe and be strong.