I was going to school in a fishing village but nothing at the time was more poignant to all those in our village than the death of FDR three weeks before the Nazi surrender. It was as a family member had died.

I do not err in retrospect when I say his death touched this 12-year-old more deeply than any other aspect of the war, even more than the July day in 1942 when the telegram came that my bomber-pilot father had been shot down.

Fathers wouldn't die, no, and he didn't, the only survivor of his crew. Americans should know of the reverence their president commanded and deserved for his leadership as the world watched his body fail his great heart.

Last edited by King Brown; 06/06/07 01:26 PM.