Many thanks to my mother for filling in for me to recount her memories of the day Japanese planes attacked Pearl Harbor, an act that drew the U.S. into World War II.
Sunday, December 7 was a sunny, but cold, early winter day in Pittsburgh. After going to morning Mass and having lunch, Mom went visiting at a girlfriend's house where their socializing was interrupted by a news bulletin on the radio reporting on Japan's surprise aerial attack of the U.S. Navy base in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii shortly after sunrise. Shortly afterward her friend Ginny's brother-in-law, who was home on military leave, received a call ordering him back to base immediately. (The book At Dawn We Slept is one of many on the subject of this sneak attack.)
Because Pittsburgh was one of the centers of U.S. military production there were fears about it being bombed as well. This led to regular blackout exercises whereby residents were required, upon hearing air-raid sirens, to switch off all lights and pull down their window shades. The goal was to make streets and landmarks harder to pinpoint in the event enemy bombers were overhead. Mom's brother, my uncle George, was a senior in high school at the time and after he graduated was inducted into the Marines and sent to Paradise Island for training. He then spent the next three years in the Pacific Theater repairing planes. And Mom, then a junior in high school (her "sweet 16" birthday was the following week, on Dec. 14), helped with the war effort by distributing ration coupons. After she graduated in 1943 she got a job documenting and tracking supplies of ammunition being put on supply ships sailing to Europe.
Although it was a time of great worry Mom didn't recall feeling fearful but instead there was a sense of purpose and solidarity with neighbors and schoolmates as each made contributions to the war effort.
As remembered by Mary Frydlewicz