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Most of the details for this biography were taken word for word from letters my mom sent to her family during her "Great Adventure." I was a bright kid - at that time, they skipped you into a higher grade level in school so you wouldn't be bored. As a result, I graduated from high school at age 15. Needless to say, my love life in high school was non-existant! After graduation, I took a secretarial skills course. I had always looked mature for my age, so for once I could blend in with other students. Then I went to work as a secretary for a local real estate firm owned by a cousin. Before WW2, most of the secretaries in the Federal Government in Washington, D.C. were males. When war was declared in December 1941, most of these young men enlisted to defend the country. That left a lot of secretarial jobs open. In late 1941, the government posted an emergency request for secretarial staff, apparently in all newspapers in the US (my paper in SE Kansas included this advertisment. You can see it below.) Dec. 27, 1941 I received a telegram that I was offered "probational indefinite appointment as a junior clerk typist." On Jan. 4, 1942 I was off on the Missouri Pacific Eagle train to my great adventure! With all the new people moving into D.C., space was at a premium. I was rooming in NW with three other girls in what once was a small bedroom. At first there were only two beds! Busses removed their seats and installed slats for people to lean their rear-ends against. Because I was young, and there were lots of young men around, I was escorted to dances, concerts, plays, movies, and local attractions all the time. At one period, I had four "boyfriends." Since they were deployed most of the time, I could get away with this. But one unfortunate weekend, they all landed on my doorstep on the same afternoon. Two of them had brought engagement rings! My landlady (who had warned me this could happen) laughed and laughed. I stuck to "friend-friends" after that. Initially I was a clerk-typist for any members of the House of Representatives who needed one. Later I was mostly working with state representatives who were requesting attendance at one of the Miltary Academies for one of their citizens. I went to the parade for Admiral Nimitz. Most impressive to my air-mind were the planes overhead - supposedly a thousand of them - flying in battle formation. I also was given an hour's leave to see the funeral procession of President Roosevelt. I wanted to see the President for the last time and in my small way pay him homage. Being tall (I'm 5 foot 12...) was, for once, an advantage: people were lined up five deep all along the route from Union Station to the White House. All along both sides of the street were stationed soldiers with fixed bayonets spaced about 3 feet apart. First came the Marine Band. They were playing very softly and the drums were all covered with black cloth. Then came the Army tanks and heavy guns and then the jeeps. Then came the Coast Guard, and then the Army on foot. After the soldiers came the Navy Band. They too had the drums draped in black. After the band were companies of sailors and then the Waves and the WACs. Then came the casket laying on an open wagon draped in black and drawn by eight white horses. The casket itself was covered with an American flag. Surrounding it were the Guard of Honor and the Color Guard carrying flags. Behind the casket came the family and then the new President and then miles of cars with officials of America and all of our allies. As the casket came by, everyone was crying - men, women alike. The soldiers and the policemen all had tears in their eyes. Words cannot express the feeling that came over you as you stood there and heard the muffled beat of the drums and the almost silent feet of the men and horses as they marched slowly by. I'm sure that no one - even those who disliked Mr. Roosevelt - seeing that sight could have kept from crying. He was a great man, and he will be greatly missed. All the while the procession was moving down the avenue, formations of airplanes passed overhead - Army, Navy, both. I later heard details of the funeral services on the radio - two newsmen were invited to attend. They said it lasted only 25 minutes. Soon after Mr. Truman became President, the crumbling White House had to be closed for renovations. The Trumans moved into Blair House. I would see him most mornings as I was walking to work. He would call, "Hi, Neighbor!" to me because he was from Missouri, and I was from southeast Kansas not far from his home. I griped a lot about Washington being so far from home and my mom, but when it came down to it, I guess there was no place I'd rather have been than there, especially at that time. I was there within reach of history being made. Each day something happened that many people would go through life without ever knowing about. I'll keep these memories forever.
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