***The Roots Is The Toots- The Music That Got Them Through The Great Depression And World War II…

 

…she was doing cartwheels, well not literally cartwheels but that amounted to the same thing when she heard the news that Johnnie would be on the next troop transport home from Europe. It had been a hellish sixteen months not knowing exactly where he was, whether he had been taken prisoner, was in some unknown  hospital or had, no, she did not want to think about that laid his head down in some foreign field, meadow, or forest. Then news came that he had been a prisoner of war, had received some wounds and was on his way home after recovery. So she prepared to get ready to go to New York and meet the boat since she could not wait to see him until he took the train home to Boston.

And so she prepared, put her suitcase and things in order. She went down to New York, taking the forever stopping Greyhound bus. Once arrived she waited as the ship docked. As the gangplank came down she peered intensely for her Johnnie love watching as the most seriously wounded and those who needed strong assistance came down first. She reddened as she thought about the poor families and girls who would have their hands full taking care of those invalids and what if her Johnnie needed that kind of care. She felt helpless before that task, she did not believe she was up to it. Then after the severely wounded and helpless were done down came the ambulatories, and her Johnnie. Her Johnnie with a pronounced limp and aided by a sturdy cane. She gasped. Yes, she gasped, then composed herself, and went rushing to meet him, meet him determined to learn how to care for her brave soldier boy…