As an 8-year-old, I never really gave much thought to those two words, coined years earlier, I suppose, as the unofficial name for a community of hard-working people. No grass grew there; when it rained, it was muddy, when the weather was dry, it was dusty.
Christmas morning, 1942: Early risers were we three boys, ages 10, 8, and 4. World War Two was on everyone’s minds, and we knew not to expect a lot from Santa. But, we never had much before the war, either. Read More»