Letters to the Editor

June 1, 2014

Letters | Remembering those lost to war

It was a beautiful day in early October 1944 with bright sun and clear blue skies. I was 2 months shy of my 13th birthday. My parents had gone to visit some friends with Aunt Martha and Uncle Floyd who were visiting from Maryland. I decided to ride my bike over to my Grandmother’s house on Montell Street. We had a nice visit, as always and had a cup of tea together.

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