While going through very old boxes from my aunt who passed away, I ran across a newspaper column written long before (perhaps) many of us were born. The paper was dated April 13, 1944. All the articles in the paper were written by the people (without credit to their names), who wrote to the paper, to share their point of view. I would like you to read one now. This old paper was too valuable for me to throw away. I would like to dedicate it to all who worked for the Milwaukee Road, Soldiers, Wives, Mothers, and Children and all who had loved ones who served in World War 11.
With the exception of the image I added, this was the entire article written inside a newspaper by one person on April 13, 1944.
We can't all wear wings ---Author Unknown
We know how you feel, young fellow ---that stout heart of yours is breaking because you can't be up there in those army bombers.
You couldn't help it that the medicos turned you down. You wanted to fight for your country.
Well, what else do you think you're doing now? You're fighting ---even though your uniform is a railroad trackman's overalls.
Every time men of your courage and character apply for work that will help shorten the war, we of the Milwaukee Road learn anew what makes this nation invincible.
Out on the rolling prairies, on the endless plains of the Dakotas, or in the rugged mountains of Montana or Washington, the sound of heavy war trains rolling over your stretch of track is like the roar of a bomber to your ears.
You don't wear wings. But we thought the country you're serving ought to know about you.
And we can tell you that over 5,000 men and women of the Milwaukee Road in the armed services consider you their kind of man.
I sit here and I wonder how many stories written on paper or in books have been discarded in my lifetime. I can only guess 20, 30, 40, 50,000 or more have been written but most no longer exist. Those stories written to the people, by the people, for the people are part of our American history. There may have been diaries, magazine articles, and scraps of paper with heartfelt words. Ordinary people told their stories. Published books contained documentation from people who lived. It is so sad, to me that history can be neglected and not part of a treasury of research for future generations. Afterall, history pages teach so much about the people, by the people, and for the people.
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