We shall overcome
In 1963 a news article in the Daily Press coined the name “Baby Boomers” to those of us born between 1946 to 1963. The oldest of us were getting close to high school graduation and the colleges were preparing for a huge influx of students.
I’m a child of the military. I grew to my teen years traveling all over the place. Everywhere we lived, my classes had the most students. No matter where, we never had enough textbooks even when we had to buy our books. It didn’t seem all that unusual to us kids. It’s just the way it was. At any given time from 1946 to 1963 there were a record number of 5-year-olds, 9-year-olds, 15-year-olds and so forth and so on.
Just what had happened all of a sudden? Where did all these babies being born come from? Why were all these babies being born year after year? Using common sense, these questions can be answered quite easily. Many young men were finally coming home. World War II had ended and nature took its course when these young men came home to wives and girlfriends.
I was born at Tyndall Air Force Base while my father was attending Officer’s Candidate School. After the war was over, he decided to re-enlist in the Air Force and qualified to become an officer. He had been a lieutenant in the Army during the war.
The earliest recollection I have of my childhood was when I was around 3 and we lived in a little wood frame house in Johnson City, Tennessee. Dad got my mom the latest modern appliance, a wringer washing machine. I was a curious kid. As I watched my mother feed clothes through the wringer, I wanted to try it. Mom told me not to touch it. She learned pretty quickly that this was the wrong thing to say to me. “Be careful” were words that went right over the top of my head.
When her back was turned, I picked up a shirt and started it through the wringer. Since I was 3, letting go of the shirt was not even a thought. One of my hands got caught in the motion of the wringer and in went my arm. I can remember it plain as day.
Of course, I started screaming at the top of my lungs. My mother immediately unplugged the machine and I believe she put it in reverse. That’s a little sketchy. My arm was fine. It was too skinny to be damaged. I don’t remember her scolding me, but I’ll bet she said a curse word under her breath. She did that sometimes, especially around me.
When I think back, my growing up years as a Boomer were quite exciting. I got to sail on a huge ocean liner on our way to Morocco, and while we lived there I played on the beaches of the Mediterranean Sea. We were warned not to go out in the waters because of sharks and barracudas. I learned how to speak French and played with Arab, French and American kids who lived in the village. We all got along well.
I flew out of Casablanca to Paris and on to New York City by way of Newfoundland and lived in Alabama, Louisiana and Kansas before my dad decided to retired at the age of 37 after 21 years of service. He was able to retire so young because he lied about his age when he joined the Army during WWII.
My teenage years were spent in Knoxville, Tennessee. I witnessed the horrors of the civil rights era when persons of color were so violently discriminated against. I was horrified. You have to remember I was a military kid first. I had friends of all colors and nationalities. If I had been older, I would have ridden on those freedom buses. Although they understood my feelings, I think my parents worried I would do it anyway. It was a dangerous time.
In the ensuing years, my generation clashed with government policies and human rights. We made our voices heard with demonstrations, only most did not carry guns. We carried signs. Many did not agree with American soldiers being in Vietnam. I was torn about it. Later, after college graduation and moving away from home, I met my future husband. He had been to Vietnam. He served his country and did not dodge the draft. He was and still is a hero in my eyes.
We are older now, we Boomers. We changed the world from music, to entertainment, to science and technology. We’ve made our way in this life despite it all. For many of us, our theme song was and still is, “We shall overcome.”