Stephanie Wilt (Goff)
Class of 1955
Class of 1955
| July 04, 2000 | |
||
| Dusk has fallen, the cloudy sky shields the view of the rocket’s red glare and the bombs bursting in the air. Yes, it is the Fourth of July. As a I view the Boston Pops on the television, I find myself drifting back in time to a place called Hopedale. | |||
| I remember my family gathering around the radio to hear the latest reports of World War II. I remember the planes flying overhead and sitting on the front steps with my brother and father. I remember my father explaining to us where the planes had come from and where they were going. I remember the air raid drills, the darkness of “lights out”, the stillness of the night. I remember the school trips to the post office to purchase “war stamps” and pasting them in little booklets. I remember the coupon ration books that my mother treasured and how upset she was when I found one and used it to play “store” in the attic. | |||
|
|||
| I remember the family listening to the radio eagerly awaiting news of the war efforts in the Pacific and in Europe. I remember V-D day, V-E day, funerals, and parades. | |||
| I remember being a Camp Fire Girl and marching in the parade. We were near the end of the procession; my grandfather was marching near the front with the veterans group. He had served in the Spanish-American war of 1898. I remember the parade ending at our cemetery and the service that followed. What pride filled my soul! | |||
| I remember learning such songs as American The Beautiful, The Star Spangled Banner, Onward Christian Soldiers, saluting our flag each day at school. I remember history lessons that made each epic event spring alive for me - from the landing of the pilgrims to the Boston Tea Party to the events of World War I and II. “One if by land, two if my sea” -- “breathes there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself has said, This is my own, my native land” - “In Flanders field the poppies blow between the crosses, row on row” | |
||
| And now as the Pops orchestra begins to play the 1812 Overture and the crowds anxiously await the firing of the cannons and the ringing of the Boston church bells, my soul fills with pride knowing many died to preserve our freedoms and their efforts have not been in vain. I remember these things because of my acedemic and religious teachings, my friends, my family, because of my beginnings in a town called Hopedale. | |||
|
Stephanie Wilt (Goff)
Class of 1955 |
|||
|
|||