WA2K Radio is now on the air

Yes Panzade, I have heard of this...my mum had an friend (sadly, no longer with us) who survived the Trablinka death camp. War affects everybodies lives...and generations after

Lest we forget eh?....

I believe Japanese/Americans were also interned after Pearl Habour...is that right?

Wow! The things we learn here, Panz and smorgs.

And yes, the Japanese-Americans were interned out of fear after Pearl Harbor. Our C.I. and his family were among them.

Well well, I never knew about all that collaring carry-on.
I do know we weren't too forcoming about letting refugees in before the war, and a lot of them perished in the camps as a (an indirect) result.
Gloss is applied to history, and we don't learn about the bad things, especially those carried out by our own side.

Exactly, McTag, but I think one must have experienced the actual battlefield and the fear to understand how war is not the norm. We all have our stories to tell, and, of course, they are colored by what we are told.

I think the reason that WWII is a memory kept alive here, is because it was the last war declared by Congress. The constitution was side stepped, and, unfortunately continues to be.

You all have reminded me of a song my mother once sang to me. I've never heard it since. It was a hit anti-war song written before the entry of the U.S in World War I ,and created many controversies. A plagiarism suit on the melody was won by a composer named Cohalin. As a Pro-War spirit was developing, many "answer" songs were written opposing the lyrics to the song.

Lillian Gish performed this song on Broadway in "A Musical Jubilee", in 1975, her final Broadway appearance.

It was first performed by Morton Harvey and The Peerless Quartet in 1915 and recorded by Victor.

I Didn't Raise My Boy To Be a Soldier

Words by Lena Guilbert Ford
Music by Ivor Novello

Ten million soldiers to the war have gone
who may never return again.
Ten million mother's hearts
Must break for the ones who died in vain
Head bowed down in sorrow in her lonely years,
I heard a mother murmer through her tears:

"I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier,
I brought him up to be my pride and joy.
Who dares to place a musket on his shoulder
To shoot some other mother's darling boy?"

Let nations arbitrate their future troubles.
It's time to lay the sword and gun away.
There'd be no war today if mothers all would say,
"I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier"

What victory can cheer a mother's heart
When she looks at her blighted home?
What victory can bring her back
All she cared to call her own?

Let each mother answer in the year to be,
"Remember that my boy belongs to me!"
"I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier,
I brought him up to be my pride and joy
Who dares to place a musket on his shoulder
To shoot some other mother's darling boy?"

Let nations arbitrate their future troubles.
It's time to lay the sword and gun away.
There'd be no war today if mothers all would say,
"I didn't raise my boy to be a soldier"

I remember that one, Raggedy, but it came about through research as opposed to my Mamma.

Listeners, do you know the coolest four letter word of the day?

Nope, not that one.

It's dude. Wow, how that word has been ameliorated.

It first meant raggedy <smile> or scarecrow during WWII.
Then it became upgraded to fop.
Then to novice as in a dude ranch.
Then to Mr. cool as the result of the movie, "Fast Times at Ridgemont High"

Perhaps that is what the Beatles really meant to say when they wrote:



Hey Jude
(Lennon-McCartney)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Hey, dude don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

Hey, dude, don't be afraid
You were made to go out and get her
The minute you let her under your skin
Then you begin to make it better.

And any time you feel the pain, hey, dude, refrain
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders
Well don't you know that its a fool who plays it cool
By making his world a little colder

Hey, dude! Don't let her down
You have found her, now go and get her
Remember, to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better.

So let it out and let it in, hey, dude, begin
You're waiting for someone to perform with
And don't you know that it's just you, hey, Jude,
You'll do, the movement you need is on your shoulder

Hey, dude, don't make it bad
Take a sad song and make it better
Remember to let her into your heart
Then you can start to make it better

I'm almost certain that John and Paul won't mind my bit of tinkering.

And now it's time for Dude to report on Celebrity Birthdays on this 16th day of January.

1853 Andre Michelin, industrialist and cofounder of Michelin Tire Co. (Paris, France; died 1931)
1876 Robert W. Service, poet (Preston, England; died 1958)
1908 Ethel Merman, singer/actress (Queens, NY; died 1984)
1911 Dizzy Dean, baseball pitcher (Lucas, AR; died 1974)
1928 William Kennedy, author (Albany, NY)
1929 Francesco Scavullo, fashion photographer (Staten Island, NY)
1930 Norman Podhoretz, author/editor (New York, NY)
1934 Marilyn Horne, opera singer (Bradford, PA)
1935 A. J. Foyt, auto racer (Houston, TX)
1944 Ronnie Milsap, singer (Robinsville, NC)
1948 John Carpenter, director (Carthage, NY)
1950 Debbie Allen, dancer/choreographer and actress (Houston, TX)
1959 Sade, singer (Ibadan, Nigeria)
1974 Kate Moss, model (London, England)

I was so tempted to post Robert W. Service's poem "Rhyme of a Red Cross Man", but -- ---
I think it's time to lighten up.

So -- Happy Birthday Ronnie Milsap.



Loved this Milsap song among others:

"Let's Take the Long Way Around the World and Let's Take It Real Slow."

Sarah, rest assured I didn't mean to imply that the US didn't intern anyone or that the British were any less humane than others. It was only in the interest of exploring nooks and crannies of history. McTag for one is the better for it.

Loved the title of this Milsap song: "That girl who waits on tables used to wait for me at home"

MEMORIES OF A BEST FRIEND
The Patriot Act and other questionable Justice Department actions bring back painful memories of a terrible time in America when unjustified (and illegal?) actions were taken against Japanese- American citizens in war time hysteria. We need to remember because it is happening again in today's fear of terrorism world.

I wrote this story to describe a real event in my youth.
BumbleBeeBoogie
---------------------------------------------

MEMORIES OF A BEST FRIEND
By BumbleBeeBoogie

Tazako became my best friend in 1939 when her family, who owned the area's only plant nursery, moved to my town. We both were in the 6th grade. Her father and mother immigrated from Japan in 1936, bringing their three little girls with them to make a new life and to escape the war they knew was coming.

Tazako's father was a shy thin man with gray-streaked black hair. His face was sun-tanned from hours spent out doors transplanting flower seedlings from the green house in the back of the nursery. He spoke little English, but we talked for hours about the flowers and how to grow them. When his English failed, he showed me how to plant seeds, transplant them into larger containers, and prune shrubs and trees to promote their growth.

Tazako's mother, a sweet petite woman, sold plants and cut flowers in a little office tucked away in the corner of the nursery where she taught me how to arrange flowers in the Japanese style. Her English was little better than her husband's. When they were not in school, the three daughters helped her with customer translations.

After school, Tazako and I often walked to the small house the family rented at the rear of the nursery's lot. Although we were from different cultures, we were alike in what eleven year old girls all over the world like to do---play games and talk about boys. I was one of the few caucasians welcomed into their home because they knew I loved their close-knit family and their old-country customs.

Tazako and her two older sisters, who had quickly become fluent English speakers, were impatient with their parent's Japanese old-country ways. It was a time when immigrants believed they had to give up their heritage and assimilate into the American culture. The girls never invited their parents to school functions because they were embarrassed by their poor English. They insisted that English be spoken in their home, which was hard for the parents, and they resisted.

When the birth of their mother's forth child drew near, the three girls, Michiko, Umiko and Tazako, pleaded that the baby, the family's first child to be born in America, be given an American name. When a robust boy was born, he was named Harry.

My close friendship with Tazako was shattered on Sunday, December 7, 1941, when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. We all were scared. I never will forget my fifteen year old brother sitting on the front porch of our home, defiantly challenging the unseen enemy, pointing his 22 rifle at the evening sky to protect his family. "Let them come," he snarled, "I'll shoot them out of the sky!"

The three girls did not come to school on Monday after Pearl Harbor was bombed. Our homeroom teacher discussed with the students how embarrassed the girls would be when they returned on Tuesday. She said we should treat them with kindness because they had nothing to do with what happened at Pearl Harbor. It was painful for the girls when they returned to school and most of the students were kind, but a few made their lives miserable. I got into a fist fight with one boy who taunted Tazako, accusing her of being a traitor.

Several weeks went by. Gradually calm returned and the girls settled into their school routines. Our homes now had block warden-approved black-out curtains hanging in their windows. Our town's young men didn't hesitate to enlist in the army and navy. (Later, thousands of young Japanese-American men would enlist in the army's Rainbow Division and be sent to Europe to fight and die for the United States.)

Then, without warning, came President Roosevelt's order to move all ethnic Japanese regardless of whether or not they were American citizens, to "relocation camps" in the mid-west. I was heart-broken when I learned what was to happen to my friends. Frantically, I pestered my mother and father about what could be done. They offered no answers. I thought about the girls insisting their parents abandon their Japanese ways and become real Americans and now the government wanted to send them away. In my twelve-year old mind, I hoped the only president I had ever known would not send the family away if he knew they were good, simple people.

One afternoon I sat down at the dining room table and wrote a letter in despair to President Roosevelt. I described Tazako's family and what good loyal Americans they were and pleaded with FDR to let my friends stay in their home. I walked to the postoffice and mailed my letter to the White House in Washington, D.C. I never received a reply.

Tazako's family was frantic because their nursery could be lost because there was no time to find someone to take over the lease. The family were told they would be allowed to take only what possessions they could carry with them on the train to the camp. What to take? What part of their lives could they leave behind? I cried for my friend as I helped her choose what to take. They packed clothing and family photographs into suitcases and boxes tied with twine. They didn't even know where they were going and no address was known for receiving letters. (Years later, I learned they were afraid to receive letters from friends because of fear they would be censored and the friends might be investigated by the government.) Tazako's family just disappeared one day after the soldiers took them to the train depot to begin their journey to the concentration camps in a mid-western state.

Finally in 1946, after the war was over, the family was released from the camp and they returned to our town. Tazako, Michiko, Umiko and Harry finally were considered American enough to live among us. By that time Tazako and I were in our senior year at High School. The nursery had been gone for a long time, converted into retail stores surrounded by concrete where once beautiful trees and shrubs had grown. The family had no resources to start over again.

I never told Tazako about my letter to the president in 1942---it would have been meaningless. We were older and soon to be graduated from high school, but Tazako's trust was gone. Nothing was the same between us again.

OMG Bumble, what a sad story...I really don't know what to say...

Thanks BBB. In another thread Lash opined that there is nothing our Govt can't do in their efforts to prevent a nuclear strike by terrorists. I imagine this would include the torture and internment of its citizens and legal aliens.

Panzade, I know you weren't 'implying' and me neither. Just chatting and interested. As we know only too well, countries do terrible things to their citizens and those seeking sanctuary during times of conflict. We are all the same!

Damn, bumblebee, you made me cry.
This is such an unexpected twist for the WA2K thread...to see it go so suddenly from WA2K Lite to WA2K Dark.
I never had heard, Pan, of the deportation from Europe-not taught in our schools-but I certainly knew about the internment of Japanese Americans-also not taught-but I know ci. How did your family, Pan, end up in FL?
The Op/Ed desk will be closed tomorrow for the holiday but this has been a long, strange trip.
Thanks yall for sharing your stories with the rest of us. -rjb-

BBB, that was beautiful. You were a very unusual person to have stood up for your Japanese friends. I would never have had that kind of courage, I'm afraid, but then, I don't ever recall any bias against any ethnic group in the small area of Virginia where I lived. I was quite fortunate to have had parents who did not taint my mind, and perhaps I was too young to have recognized any disparaging remark. It was not until much later, that I discovered the bias against blacks.

Raggedy, I had forgotten about Ronnie. I had a next door neighbor named Ronnie Milsap, but he wasn't blind and he did NOT play piano.

Panz, John, and all, It is this time of openness that makes us aware of how the waves and dogs of war are far reaching.

I believe our country can survive the worst as long as it is comprised of citizens of uncorruptible moral virtue like BBB.

RJB, the long strange trip is outlined in my Bio/Profile

WA2K radio fans, I have invited Snood to post his moving piece of prose here in our thread. I think we have covered every side of the problems inherent in many cultures, and many of the positive ones.

I don't know about all of you, but I feel better having read all of the input here today. Now if I can only get Walter to visit, and some of the other ethnic groups on A2K, it would be a wonderful experience.

( besides that, it would keep me from having to do the laundry. )

By popular demand (well, actually 'cause Letty asked me to )...

An Icelandic Experience
The Christians I Know
By JOSÉ M. TIRADO

For the 3 years I have lived in Iceland now, I have had an ongoing debate with my friend J. in Illinois about our differing lives. In addition to politics, food and culture, we have regularly compared the remarkably different dominant strands of Christianity as practiced in the two countries.

Iceland being a Lutheran country with the State giving financial support and backing to the church, one might expect a dreamy American Christian nowadays to envy the high place Christianity has here. Think again. (Though there does exist a 24-hour Christian channel here, dominated by American evangelical preachers and their regular rants against Islam and liberals alike, most Icelanders hold a much different set of Christian views than what is seen there.) For example,

None of the Christians I know here think George Bush is anything but a boor and a bully, fearing him much more than any tin pot dictator the US supports then disposes of with growing fickle regularity.

The Christians I know might be against abortion, but they do not impose their opposition on women. In fact...

The Christians I know here founded the first women's political party in Europe and successfully elected the first woman President who was a single mother at the time.

The Christians I know are by and large socialists believing that poverty should be eliminated, hunger eradicated and that social equality should be the primary purpose of having a government.

The Christians I know oppose war, and regard it as evil. Period.

The Christians I know don't believe in oppressing anyone and that includes Palestinians.

The Christians I know value the Sermon on the Mount more than they do the Book of Revelations and it shows.

The Christians I know give to the poor without asking for allegiance to their version of God in return.

The Christians I know engage me and others in real interfaith dialogue, enjoying the comparative jostle while retaining a healthy respect for others of differing belief systems.

The Christians I know are actually curious about Islam and take seminars and courses on it and other religions regularly in order to know and understand more about the world they read about.

The Christians I know take none of the millennial, "end of the world" talk seriously, regarding it as silly, outdated and dangerous.

The Christians I know value reason and uncertainty, science and doubt and wear their faith in their hearts and not out on their sleeves.

The Christians I know don't think there is anything admirable about guns or militarism.

The Christians I know do not attempt to convert me nor do they attempt to convert anyone around me, respecting my freedom to be who I am and loving me nonetheless.

The Christians I know are worried about global warming (they see it daily here near the North Pole) and are constantly working to convert their economy towards more renewable sources of energy.

The Christians I know don't necessarily go to church often, if at all, but they are good, decent, hard-working people who are moved by their consciences not their ideological rigidity.

The Christians I know have differing political views but they are respectful of each other and don't engage in any of the viciousness I saw regularly in the States.

The Christians I know are not superstitiously afraid of practicing meditation or yoga and find that when they do it complements their own faith rather nicely, teaching them even more respect for traditions outside of their own, something they value as important in this modern world.

As much as I love living here, Iceland is no utopia and there are many reasons why I am a Buddhist and not a Christian. However, as I told my rigid, fearing-for-my-heathen-soul cousin recently, one of the biggest is that I was raised around them my whole life. Had I been raised here in Iceland though, things might have turned out differently.

Rev. José M. Tirado is a poet, writer and Green activist. He is also a Shin Buddhist priest teaching in Iceland.

snood, my friend. Thank you so much for sharing that lovely piece with the listeners here on WA2K Radio. It is most unfortunate that we can't all see how each of us has something to give to the world. All shapes and sizes; all beliefs and disbeliefs; all covert and overt.

We are the world; we are the children. And if that quote is trite, so be it.

<taking a little look while all is quite here>


What a delightful thread! Full of surprises, revelations, life stories, songs & more! And 132 pages long!
Wow, Letty!
I'll be back!

Good morning from Brrrrr, snow on the lawns, ice on the streets, PA.

Lots of celebrities who celebrated birthdays on January 17.

1706 Benjamin Franklin, statesman/diplomat, author/publisher, and scientist (Boston, MA; died 1790)
1820 Anne Brontë, novelist/poet (England; died 1849)
1899 Al Capone, gangster (Naples, Italy; died 1947)
1922 Betty White, actress (Oak Park, IL)
1926 Moira Shearer, ballerina (Scotland)
1927 Eartha Kitt, singer (North, SC)
1928 Vidal Sassoon, hair stylist (London, England)
1931 James Earl Jones, actor (Tate County, MS)
1931 Don Zimmer, baseball player and manager/coach (Cincinnati, OH)
1934 Shari Lewis, puppeteer and children's entertainer (New York, NY; died 1998)
1939 Maury Povich, TV personality (Washington, DC)
1942 Muhammad Ali, champion boxer (Louisville, KY)
1947 Kenny Loggins, singer (Everett, WA)
1956 David Caruso, actor (Forest Hills, NY)
1962 Jim Carrey, actor/comedian (Toronto, Ontario, Canada)

Hard to choose a picture today. Oh, let's sing Happy Birthday to the Golden Girl:



And Happy Birthday, "Red Shoes" girl, (the lady responsible for ballet lessons for so many hopefuls), Moira Shearer.