He absolutely needs to be stopped, but he is far away from American soil. He is a fearmonger and has his sights on war. You’ve heard Hitler’s name before, many times.
You smile at his ability to capture the minds of America his ability to use understanding and compassion to quiet people’s nerves while coaxing them into action. Passionately though we may desire detachment, we are forced to realize that every word that comes through the air, every ship that sails the sea, every battle that is fought does affect the American future.” FDR Library “It is easy for you and for me to shrug our shoulders and to say that conflicts taking place thousands of miles from the continental United States, and, indeed, thousands of miles from the whole American Hemisphere, do not seriously affect the Americas - and that all the United States has to do is to ignore them and go about (our) its own business. Within seconds, the voice of President Franklin D. Caroline has turned the radio on, and she is tuning rapidly. It fills you with unease.įrom the kitchen, a crescendo of white-noise roars and pulls your eyes up. But still, despite the lack of detail, you can sense a sadness, a defeatedness, in their eyes. Staring at the photo, you realize the Poles in the background are blurry, their faces mostly obscured and hidden. The story tells what’s happening, and how people in the United States are reacting. The image below is of German troops marching through Warsaw. It has been years since you invited anyone over for Sunday dinner.īreaking away from your thoughts, you look down at your paper and see the headline about the war in Europe. Those who remain hide from one another so as to not share their desperation. The chaos was overwhelming, but when everyone left, the silence reminded you of the abundance in your life.īut now those days are just distant memories. It was normal to have fifteen people in the apartment, and for at least five of those people to be kids.
Back in the 20s, before the crash and when your parents were alive, the whole family gathered each week to break bread. There was a time, not so long ago, when Sunday dinners were a source of great joy. Your three sons are on the street below, playing. Your wife, Caroline, is in the kitchen, preparing the Sunday meal. You’re sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Sunday Times. The late summer sun is making one of its final descents, but the air remains heavy and warm.
0 kommentar(er)
