Last Friday I took the girls out for a walk in the neighborhood. The weather was great—more summer than spring. The four year old was riding her big-wheel while I carried her little sister.
As we passed one house an older gentleman called out to us. He was excited to see the little ones and proud to list off his children, grand-children, and great-grand-children. He told me about his time in WWII. At 84 he's seen a lot, including Europe from the vantage point of a ball turret on a B-24. His first mission was on June 6, 1944, D-Day.
The four year old had peddled off and was nearly at the next corner, so I had to excuse myself. I told him we would be walking around the neighborhood a lot in the coming months. There would be other times to stop and chat.
On Saturday, I saw another story about a B-24 ball turret gunner: Sippican Cottage: My Father Asks For Nothing. I've printed out a copy to deliver to the one I know.
This day in baseball history — a wild one in Boston
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