It is perhaps only rarely that we see the intersection between our family story and world history. But when we do, it certainly personalizes history and makes it come alive. I had such a moment recently . . . .
That intersection was a letter written by my mother to her sister on August 16, 1945, the morning after Japan surrendered in World War II. My dad had spent the entire war as an instructor pilot in the Army Air Corp, teaching young boys to fly who eventually wound up as the fighter and bomber pilots who had such an important part in the war. Now he was in flight school himself, training in the B-29, with almost certain combat over Japan as the next stop. Mom had a daughter who was a few months old and suspected another child was on the way. In that context this is the way she began her letter:
My Dearest Sister;
No, you can’t be as happy as I am! My, Nona, isn’t it wonderful that Peace has come to this Ole’ World once more. I’ve never been so happy in all my life. It still doesn’t seem possible that it’s all over & we can go back to a normal Life once again. Oh! I’m so happy! My, when we heard the news I just couldn’t keep the tears back. I wanted to jump up & holler & rave & all that stuff but Wayne & I were in the car downtown when it all happened so I just had to sit there & watch the other people do it. But I was glad just to sit very still & quiet for a few minutes & thank God for bringing Peace to America once more.
Reading that became a very personal reminder that for every historical event there are thousands and thousands of individuals whose very lives were changed. History is not just ‘history’ on the grand scale. It’s thousands of individual stories, some happy and celebratory like these paragraphs, others heartbreaking and full of despair. But it’s those small stories that combine to make the history we know.
A moment in history came alive for me as I read those words.
