(Ole Ed, a long-time friend aged 80
came by last week, bringing his
little collection of Walking Liberty
fifty-cent coins. "I'm here as I promised
you," he said.)
These marvelous coins made my heart
beat faster...as when singing "The Star-
Spangled Banner," "America the Beautiful,"
"God Bless America," or "From the Halls
of Montezuma..,"
"I've got to get a photo," I said as we
sipped on our Diet Pepsis and I
handled each coin, over and over. "Who
knows their history? Something wore
'em down."
They were the coins of WWII. My
childhood! The rewards of many hot
hours of mowing lawns, delivering
Ward's circulars, laundry work!
The barely-readable dates on each
coin told it all: 1937, 1939, 1941,1942,
1943, 1944, and 1945. A CCC boy
might have spent that one in the
thirties; a Marine could have charged
the Tarawa beach carrying that one!
Eugene Sledge could have had that
one in his fatigues at Okinawa.
Why, that Walking Liberty 50 cent
piece might have been my pay for
that hard lawn and trimming up there
on Thornton. Wasn't it de facto the
minimum wage of the day, if you were
lucky? (No, some folks made only
20 cents an hour.)
No little kid of that time likely ever had
seven of those coins at once, jingling
in his overalls. Maybe two...but
doubtful. One would buy a ten
cent movie ticket on Saturday afternoons
at the Lyceum, with ten cent popcorn--
and later a ham salad san over at Wool-
worth's @ 20 cents. Or a balsa wood
model P-51!
Ah, isn't it too bad that many "Americans"
don't have a clue as to what our country
has endured. It almost makes one weep.
But all should see and say:
"Oh what a Glorious Coin!"
"May God Bless America,
land that I love!"
--------
MIL
31 OCTOBER 2019
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