LIVING THE FAITH OF OUR FATHERS. Donald E. Wilson

of Jim’s building ability. The house still stands today and looks as good as it did in 1953. No one I ever knew had a better work ethic than James Watson. And no one better fit the image of the so called “greatest generation.”

      And his work ethic fit in perfectly with the Camp Taylor culture. While the small community of roughly 2,000 residents was located only six miles from downtown Louisville, it was in many ways a separate island. It was predominantly a blue collar working class society with most citizens, like Jim Watson, struggling to survive. Religion played a strong role in the close nit family oriented culture, with over half Roman Catholic, and a high percentage of the remaining, Southern Baptist or Methodist. A few other denominations such as the Nazarene rounded out the church population.

      Alleen describes the area as being relatively independent, with a grocery and dry goods store, pharmacy, hardware store, bakery, barbershop, Post Office, and water company, all within walking distance of her house. Among employment opportunities, was a large tobacco warehouse, that held auctions in the fall of each year, much like the tobacco warehouse near my Shelbyville home. It was a most unique community, and the street layout largely followed the pattern of the old army post.

      On a recent drive through the area, Alleen was surprised at how little the basic community had changed in the 60 plus years since she lived there, and how well the buildings had been maintained. I noted that you could still clearly visualize what had once been an army camp, and formations of men with rifles over their shoulders marching on the long streets, and training for the horrors of war.

      Alleen relates memories of a struggling mother and father, always guided by an unshakable Christian faith, that found the family at Farmdale Baptist Church whenever the doors were open. It was a hard life, but for a child growing up obviously somewhat sheltered from the many hardships her family faced, it was a happy one. She has fond memories of the Saturday night baths in a wash tub, and her father assisting the washing of dirty backs etc., singing in his slightly off key voice, Oh Suzanna.He also entertained the children counting in German, a language he learned in High School. By the time the last bath was taken the water was well used.

      Most activities outside of church were associated with the extended family of her mother’s parents, Annie and Melvin Headley, and aunts, uncles and cousins, all living across the railroad track from Camp Taylor. Close by, also across the tracks, her dad’s family, Rose (Mama), and James Watson Jr. (Jay) were overall better educated than the Headley’s, and a bit more worldly in their knowledge of the world beyond their neighborhood. Alleen has many pleasant memories of time spent at both the Watsons’ and the Headley’s. Much of the family entertainment was in their homes, and her world was for the most part a sheltered one, and not until we were married and the Air Force took her to places she only imagined, did she break the tight family circle.

      Her Grandpaw Headley spent many hours reclining in his favorite chair always ready to relate stories about the “good old days” and his boyhood home. I do believe that he suffered a mild form of depression, a diagnosis virtually unknown in those years. But, he was a hardworking and successful tailor at the Enro Shirt Company in downtown Louisville. Outside of work and church, Grandpa Headley put his family first in his life, and dreamed of keeping the entire “clan” together forever. The thought of any member of the family ever leaving the area was far removed from his thinking. Years later, when I took Alleen several hundred miles away from the fold, she was the first one to break the bonds, something I am sure Grandpaw Headley never understood.

      I must comment on the overall love and admiration Alleen and I had for our fathers. We were both very fortunate in having fathers who were truly representative of what the Tom Brokaw called the “greatest generation.” While they are no longer with us, our memories of them are quite vivid, and we have come to recognize and appreciate more and more what a wonderful legacy they left with us. While their love of family took first place in their lives, they also left behind untold numbers of friends. To know James Watson and Charlie Wilson was to know two remarkable men.

      Both men were men of God, and none of the trying times in the depression years could shake that faith, and indeed only strengthened it. Both men lost their jobs, resulting in a struggling existence to feed and provide shelter for their families, that included Alleen and me. Jim lost his job as a skilled builder, and was forced to take on many demeaning tasks to keep his family from starving. Even though his education ended prior to formal graduation from Male High School (perhaps the best High School in Kentucky), he was remarkably educated far beyond many other citizens of Camp Taylor. He became a master craftsman (tool and die maker), who could make anything with his hands, and his curiosity knew no bounds.

      While my dad was forced to give up the job he loved the most-teaching school, he was willing to take any job available to meet our family’s needs. Instead of teaching he worked on an assembly line at the Shelby shoe factory, and as indicated above he entered sales, and excelled as a salesman. But, teaching was never far from his mind, and in his later life, in better times, he left sales behind and went back to the class room.

      But, as important as their efforts were in the depression years, perhaps our best memories were of their unshakable love of family. And, beyond their families, our dads loved everyone. They understood the Christian concept of loving our neighbors. That love and overall character certainly gave us traits that we can only hope we will pass on to other generations.

      Of course Alleen and I are who we are today, not only because of our fathers, but also our mothers. Our dads would never have made it if it were not for our mother’s one major goal in life: rearing and raising a Christian family. In the 40s women had one responsibility: taking care of their families, and both mothers certainly took that responsibility seriously.

      Chapter 3: The War Years

       "We are now in the war. We are now in it all the way. Every single man, woman, and child is a partner in the most tremendous undertaking of our American history."

       President

       Franklin Roosevelt

      As I look back on the war years, 1941-45, the era in many ways was a paradox. It was a time of hardship for many, especially those families separated from their loved ones, and not knowing whether or not they were living or dead. And, of course, life on the home front was often difficult with shortages of so many every day necessities and constantly dealing with rationing of everything from gasoline (three and a half gallons a week), to sugar, meat, canned goods etc.

      But while I remember all of those difficulties and much more, I also remember the excitement of doing so much to support the war effort, and the belief that radio, movies and sacrifices placed us all in the war with those who fought. We were not encumbered with the plethora of “things,” especially those tied to fashions, television, computers and the internet of today’s bored teenagers. The sight of thousands of young men in uniforms packed into the main shopping and theater district of Louisville’s Fourth Street on Saturday night provoked the utmost in my imagination. I knew I was part of something overwhelming, especially when men paraded down Broadway in frequent parades, accompanied by bands playing stirring music behind the huge tanks and other military vehicles; and countless patriotic songs filling the radio air waves on virtually every radio station. And, of course, a glance in any direction in the business district at the sea of khaki was a vivid reminder of the seriousness and sense of purpose we felt in the tremendous crusade beyond America’s shores. Many songs were composed just to relate people of all ages to the realities of what war was all about, i.e., "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition," or "Johnny Got a Zero Today."

      Unlike other American wars, Americans in the Second World War kept patriotism front and center. While some Americans, as in all wars opposed the war, the number of people involved was minuscule, and never had an impact on the relative solidarity of most patriotic Americans. Much of the ground swell in support of the war was directly related to the events of December 7, 1941, and especially the surprise attack itself, that was perceived as a “stab in the back.” Nothing could have done more to raise the ire of Americans and the intense hatred of Japan than such an unprovoked attack that literally destroyed the American Pacific fleet. And, as Japan soon discovered, while America was severely