Armistice Day, aka, Veteran's Day
At one time, back in the 20th Century, the day in November commemorating the end of the "war to end all wars," was referred to as "Armistice Day". In a small way, it was the "war to end all wars" or World War I, that helped create me.
It was during this time, that two children of Polish immigrants, met in southern Massachusetts. One of them, a young man wearing the uniform of Uncle Sam's fighting men, met a quiet, shy girl who worked in one of the many shoe factories in Webster, Massachusetts. He was from Chicago, she was from Webster, Mass. He left Chicago to join the US Army, in part to serve the country of his birth, in part to escape his tyrannical father and begin to make his own way in the world. His company, Company B of the 36th US Infantry Regiment, was in Massachusetts awaiting their turn to board a ship to take them to France. He had a special skill possessed by few men had at that time and he was kept busy typing reports for his company officers.
Exactly how they met, I don't know. But a few years later, in 1920, they wed there in Webster, Mass. He continued to use his typing skills, often working as a clerk for one railroad or another. He often was sick; apparently, one of the things he got from his military service was exposure to tuberculosis. Lung disease and an average of three packs a day of unfiltered cigarettes eventually did him in. But, he and his young bride produced six children, the last being my Dad.
My grandfather's doctors urged him to seek a dry climate to help his lungs. So they moved from Chicago to Phoenix. There, my Dad, while checking out the records at a music store owned by a man named Culver, met my Mom. And a few years later, along came Polski3. All because of the "war to end all wars" ? Maybe. What do you think ?
Thank you, Veteran's for your service to this nation.
Thanks for reading my blog ! I welcome your comments.
It was during this time, that two children of Polish immigrants, met in southern Massachusetts. One of them, a young man wearing the uniform of Uncle Sam's fighting men, met a quiet, shy girl who worked in one of the many shoe factories in Webster, Massachusetts. He was from Chicago, she was from Webster, Mass. He left Chicago to join the US Army, in part to serve the country of his birth, in part to escape his tyrannical father and begin to make his own way in the world. His company, Company B of the 36th US Infantry Regiment, was in Massachusetts awaiting their turn to board a ship to take them to France. He had a special skill possessed by few men had at that time and he was kept busy typing reports for his company officers.
Exactly how they met, I don't know. But a few years later, in 1920, they wed there in Webster, Mass. He continued to use his typing skills, often working as a clerk for one railroad or another. He often was sick; apparently, one of the things he got from his military service was exposure to tuberculosis. Lung disease and an average of three packs a day of unfiltered cigarettes eventually did him in. But, he and his young bride produced six children, the last being my Dad.
My grandfather's doctors urged him to seek a dry climate to help his lungs. So they moved from Chicago to Phoenix. There, my Dad, while checking out the records at a music store owned by a man named Culver, met my Mom. And a few years later, along came Polski3. All because of the "war to end all wars" ? Maybe. What do you think ?
Thank you, Veteran's for your service to this nation.
Thanks for reading my blog ! I welcome your comments.
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