December 7, 1941, a day never to be forgotten by those who lived it. Seventy-nine years later, it still holds a vivid picture in my mind. This is a true story of living through WWII as seen through the eyes of a child

Mom, Dad, and I, along with my aunt were on a trip from Columbus, Ohio to Canton. My brother Veto was driving. The radio was playing a popular tune by one of the big bands of the day, when suddenly, the music was interrupted with the news that forever changed the world as we know it.

I thought to myself, "I'm not really sure what just happened." Everyone was laughing and talking and then this man stopped the music I was listening to and said something about a bunch of planes bombing a place called Pearl Harbor. I never heard of Pearl Harbor. Now everyone is still talking, but no one is laughing.

Mom started to cry. She said something about her boys would be leaving to fight in a war. I thought to myself, "I hope Nicky doesn't have to go away. He's my favorite brother. I love him best of all."

Today Nicky got his letter from the Draft Board. He will be leaving soon. I can't help it, I just can't stop crying. I'm going to miss him so much.

A lot has changed since the war started. Mommies always stayed home, and the daddies went to work. Now almost all the daddies are gone and most of the mommies are working, mostly at war plants.

Mom has a hard time when she goes to the store. She has to count her ration stamps so she can buy meat and sugar and other stuff. They only sell meat two days a week. We eat a lot of meals with just vegetables. I don't care so much, but my sisters sure do complain about it.

We always had a garden. So did most of our neighbors, but there are a lot of people who never had one before the war. Now everyone seems to be growing one. Almost every field is turned into a garden and some people even grow gardens on rooftops of buildings. They call them "Victory Gardens". It's supposed to help the war cause, so they say.

There are a lot of sad, scared people. A lot of people are going to church to pray for the boys fighting. It seems everyone has a star in their window. That told people that someone who lived there was in the service. If they had a gold star, it meant that someone there died in the war. Nobody wants to see a Western Union man show up at their door. It generally means bad news about someone they loved who was fighting in the war. My two brothers fought. Nicky went to Burma and India while my brother Tony fought in Europe and in the South Pacific. We were supposed to feel proud if we had someone in the family fighting, but I just felt sad and mom is worried.

Most boys felt bad if they were turned down at the recruiter's office. They were labeled '4F.' There were a lot of reasons to be turned down, but it always made them feel really bad. People looked down on them because they thought they were unpatriotic; that made them feel worse. If you had bad eyes or feet, you were turned down, because you couldn't see to shoot, or you couldn't march. My brother Veto was turned down because of his feet. He worked in a defense plant till after the war.

Everyone was surprised the war lasted so long. I was eight when it started, and I am thirteen now. Nicky and Tony finally came home. So much has happened while they were gone and I don't think things are ever going to be the same. Some of the moms quit their jobs, but a lot didn't. It seems people have a lot more stuff than they used to. Now more moms are working so they can have more stuff too. I hear them saying they have to keep up with the 'Joneses,' whoever they are.

We never had a lot of stuff and we still don't, but we have enough I guess. I sure would like to have more, but mom never went to work. We kept our garden, and now we have meat at most meals. But best of all, mom is there when I get home from school. My brother Nick still lives at home. All my other brothers and sisters are married now, but they come home all the time. There's a lot of laughing and talking going on while the radio plays the music of the day. I hope that never changes.