Happy Labor Day to all who are able to celebrate the last holiday of summer here in the good old US of A. Too man folks aren't able to celebrate at all. They will be at their minimum wage jobs serving those lucky enough to actually have time to spend with their families and friends. And, a huge thank you to those who serve in the safety forces and medical centers which must be open 24-7 for the benefit of all.
Above all, a deep heartfelt thank you to our men and women in uniform, laboring night and day in the heat and hostility of Iraq and Afghanistan. Sometime over this weekend, lets lift a beer or cup of tea and toast those brave men and women and wish them godspeed in coming home safe and sound.
My mother was one of those men and women who wore their country's uniform in WWII. Born and raised in Scotland, when she turned 18 she becamee a communications officer in the British Army and followed the bombers and figher planes all over the European theater. She was part of a small, elite group of women called "Ack Ack girls." They were responsible for sighting, identifying, and plotting the path of enemy air craft. That information was communicated to the anti-aircraft gunners and, well, I think you can guess the rest. The anti-aircraft guns made an ack-ack-ack sound as they fired upon enemy aircraft. That's where the "Ack Ack Girls" nickname comes from.
After the war, President Harry Truman offered any Allied soldier the opportunity to come to the United States without a sponsor, and for a shortened time for becoming an American citizen. My mother took that opportunity and arrived in New York Harbor just before Christmas 1946. She found a job as a tele-typist for Standard Oil Corporation, known to us today as Shell Oil. When she married my father, a New York City police officer, in 1947 she left the public work force as was the custom of the day.
She returned to work in the late 60's because of dysfunction in our home. She labored on an assembly line in a cold-in-winter sweltering-in-summer plant in Patterson, New Jersey. It was during that time that she was exposed to a compound called flux that was used in the soldering process she did day in and day out for 4 years. The exposure caused the development of cataracts in both of her eyes, necessitation surgery and a life long sentence of glasses so thick and so heavy they permanently marked her nose and ears.
In 1970, after my father's death, she went back to work again. The best she could find was cleaning in a local hotel. Eventually her age made her less able to do that job so she was moved to the laundry. In 1998, my brother forced her to come to Kansas where she lives in an assisted living facility with lots of other women who remember the war and like bingo. She's in heaven!
Growing up, my mother would often say she wanted only to see Scotland one more time, and sit amidst the heather in the highlands. On the occasion of my 39th birthday, when she'd been widowed for over 20 years, I presented her with 2 round trip tickets to Scotland and told her that her daughter would take her home again.
It was an amazing trip and I learned more in 2 weeks than I had in my lifetime about my mother as a girl, and as a soldier. She'd been a bus conductress in her teens, taking fares from riders as they boarded the bus. She'd spent every Sunday taking her Granny Buchanan to church then returning home to spend the afternoon beside the fire reading the Bible to her. My great-grandmother was blind. She had excellent grades, and a generous school mistress took her under her wing and taught her to do needlework. Eventually, she taught her knitting. Both passed down to me, but I never did get the knack of knitting.
From my mother I learned my work ethic - work hard, work honestly, work with dignity. Funny, as I look back on my own work life, every single employer I had would say I was a hard worker above and beyond any of my skills. My mother taught me there was inherent value in a job well done. From my mother I learn perseverance and commitment. From my mother I learned how to dress and how to conduct myself in a workplace or social setting. From my mother I learned the world was open to me for anything I might dream or desire. I am the only woman in my family to have attended college, and the only member of my family to hold a college degree. From my mother Ilearned that such was always my birthright because I was born an American girl.
So, yeah, my mother did wear combat boots. She also wore a lot of hats from which my brothers and I benefited and grew up to be good, self-supporting workers in this country.
Who taught you your work ethic? What did they do in their own lives to keep a roof over their heads and food on their tables? What kind of worker are you?
What does WAYWO stand for? What Are You Working On? WAYWO is a weekly series about crafts, arts, and DIY. All are welcome to post in WAYWO, and guest hosts are invited to email me at the address in my profile. WAYWO posts every Sunday at approximately 6:30 pm Eastern time.
If you would like email notification when WAYWO is up, please join ourWAYWO Yahool! Group.>
Thanks for visiting WAYWO