When I was a kid In the 1940s a movie ticket cost 25 cents. For that price, I watched two features, a cartoon, and a newsreel.  World  War 11 was in full swing at the time, so I saw far too many images of death and destruction than was good for me, particularly the images of the Red

Recently, an article appeared in a newsletter which reminded me that everyone has a story to tell. The one I was reading contained the recollections of a woman, near my age, after the bombing of Pearl Harbor in 1941. She was seven at the time but retained vivid memories of her internm