prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Where was I when I heard about Pearl Harbor?


A most often asked question is “where were you when you heard about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor?” I was a passenger in a car. A friend and I had spent most of Sunday at the beach in Long Beach, California. We lived in Pomona and were on our way home. At an intersection in the city of Bellflower newspaper boys were yelling the news and selling newspapers.


The fact that Japan had attacked was not much of a surprise. My friends and I had played Japs and Yanks as much as we played cowboys and Indians. I had a friend in school who was Japanese, I went to the internment center at the LA Fairgrounds and visited with him through the fence. It would be interesting to see him now and trade stories.

On Monday morning, December 8, at Pomona High School we were all in the auditorium to listen to the speech by FDR about the Pearl Harbor attack. On Tuesday morning I rode the bus into Los Angeles to the Marine recruitment station. I flunked the eye test. This failure might have saved my life. When I got off the bus on my return to Pomona I walked straight to an eye doctor and got an exam. I had bad eyes alright.

I could get in the Army or Navy with bad eyes, (They had heard about glasses). But my Father would not sign the papers for me to join. Your parents permission was required if you were under age.

Walking down the streets military people in cars would yell "draft dodger" and "4F" at me. I was six feet tall and looked Army ready even tho I was only 16.

I could not stand it. In a year I registered for the draft and lied one more year to my age. I was drafted and in the Army in three weeks at the age of 17. The draft did not need my Father's permission.

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