I can remember the morning of Dec. 7, 1941, as if it was yesterday. It was the day President Franklin D. Roosevelt called "the day of infamy."
I was relaxing on the couch in the front room of my house in Dracut Center, reading the funny pages in the Sunday Boston American, when my brother Jackie came running down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom. Holding his portable radio, he shouted, "The Japanese just bombed Pearl Harbor!"
Even though I was only eight at the time, I still realized we were at war -- and that my two older brothers would soon be involved.
As time moved by, it became Sept. 2, 1945, the day the Japanese signed their surrender papers on the battleship USS Missouri, ending the war. After spending four years in the U.S. Army Air Force, this meant my two brothers were coming home.
The United States suffered over a million casualties, either killed of wounded during the war, but fortunately both of my beloved brothers returned home safely.
Older brother Izzy, the All-Star second basemen of the Lowell Twilight Baseball League and quarterback of the Lowell High football team during the '30s, served as a staff sergeant over in England during the infamous "Buzz Bombings" danger. He was a sheet metal specialist, which meant it was his job to patch up damaged B-17 bombers after they returned from missions over Germany and other European countries.
Brother Jackie, a first lieutenant, was stationed in Puerto Rico and flew B-24 bombers on enemy submarine patrols over the Caribbean Seas. Prior to the war, he saw duty at the Panama Canal Zone and became an experienced pilot and bombardier.
Needless to say, Pearl Harbor Day stands in my memory, even after some 71 years.