Friday was “Grandparents Day” at the school, so Margaret and I showed up at 10 am and spent the next couple of hours visiting with children and teachers, having our pictures made with these 3 little McKeever geniuses, listening to their handbell choirs, and checking out their classrooms. The kids have made arrangement for Grandpa to come back some day and draw sketches of the children in all three classrooms. (Hey, it’s what I do.) Twelve-year-old Grant remarked, “One of the teachers lives in our neighborhood. She said she has driven down our street and seen the elderly man pushing us on the green swing under our tree.”
Elderly man. Thanks a lot. Let’s see now…what were we saying in the previous blog about ageism?
Thursday afternoon, I spent three hours at the World War II Museum attending the international conference on that war. The main auditorium was crowded as expected for Andy Rooney’s appearance. I’ve read the book on his wartime experiences as a reporter for the Stars and Stripes, but hearing his stories in person was special. “I had the best seat in the War,” he said. “I could travel anywhere with few restrictions, and talk to anybody. It sounds terrible to say since so many millions were killed in the Second World War, but it was the most exhilarating time of my life.”
A number of personalities scheduled to appear did not make it for health reasons. “Murrow Boy” Richard C. Hottelet, former Senator (and bomber pilot) George McGovern, and Enola Gay pilot General Paul Tibbetts were among the no-shows. I browsed the building, talked to a few authors, and bought some World War II postcards. “These are authentic,” the seller said. “A whole cache of them were found. Never used. The cartoons on the front were drawn by a fifteen-year-old kid.” A dollar each; I bought ten.
Standing in the rear of the auditorium, it was almost as much fun watching the crowd as listening to the panel of veterans and authorities. Several octogenarians were decked out in their original uniforms, and yes, they still fit. My wife is willing to bet the uniforms are new, but I disagree. In one conference room, a woman appearing to be in her late 80s was lovely in her Army WAC uniform, addressing perhaps 15 or 20 listeners. The unfortunate lady was competing with Andy Rooney.
In some of the sessions they were taking questions from the audience. What was funny about that is the old gentlemen who went to the microphones did not care a hoot about the opinions of the experts on the stage. They wanted to tell their stories. “Let me share a couple of my experiences with you,” they would begin. I looked around to see if the audience was growing fidgety and impatient, but no one was. In fact, when they finished, the crowd would erupt into applause, including the panel members.
