"IN THE summer of 1943 I was eight, and my father
and mother and small brother and I were at Peterson Field in Colorado
Springs. A hot wind blew through that summer, blew until it seemed that
before August broke, all the dust in Kansas would be in Colorado, would
have drifted over the tar-paper barracks and the temporary strip and
stopped only when it hit Pikes Peak. There was not much to do, a summer
like that: there was the day they brought in the first B-29, an event to
remember but scarcely a vacation programme. There was an officers'
club, but no swimming pool; all the officers' club had of interest was
artificial blue rain behind the bar. The rain interested me a good deal,
but I could not spend the summer watching it, and so we went, my
brother and I, to the movies.
We went three and four afternoons a week, sat on folding chairs in
the darkened hut which served as a theatre, and it was there, that
summer of 1943 while the hot wind blew outside, that I first saw John
Wayne."
A very good article. Read the rest by
clicking here.
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