Just some thoughts:
I did. Only once, never forgot it.
It would have been 1951 or 1952 and I would have been nine or ten years old.
Of all places see chose to do her one-hundred yard dash was in O’Hare airport in Chicago. The three of us had been walking this long corridor, my dad, mom and me. She was no Wilma Rudolph, but all of a sudden “she took off.”
We were at the airport in Chicago to meet my brother (he’s the one on the right in the picture) who was returning from the Korean War after a year of duty in Korea. I will never forget that year. The trips I made to our mail box for his letters and the calendar we had hanging on a kitchen wall with me marking off the days until his return.
All of a sudden as solider’s were come down the ramp from the returning plane when my mother spotted my brother. She said nothing to either of us, she just took off in a run to greet him. She got to him first, hugged his neck and cried.
Over the years I have often repeated that scene in my mind and thinking how many times over many years a similar scene was repeated in the lives of so many mothers and fathers.
“Her eyes widened when she saw her son, now a grown man, standing in the doorway. “Gene” she screamed, wiping her hands on the apron and running into his outstretched arms.”
Play with the Enemy==Gary W. Moore
“Oh, dear God thank you for bringing my boy home to me.–then she wept”
Words of this mother upon her son’s return.
On that day in 1951-52 sixty plus years ago….we did also…said a prayer and wept.
August 1, 2018
Posted September 15, 2018