Another reason to give thanks

She was just a teenager walking briskly down the garden path when a few feet in from her something clunked on a flagstone, sending a small shower of sparks. She was to discover a few hours later that she was narrowly missed by a dagger-shaped piece of shrapnel.

It was in the early '40s, the world was at war. And the people in England were a prime target for the Nazi war machine.

While the young Mary Lindsay (now Howard) lived about 25 miles southwest of the prime bombing target of London, the Howard family was still at risk. "Twenty-five miles is not very far when you are in a plane," Mary quipped.

While the war lasted from 1939 to 1945, the intense bombing of London took place during the 'Blitz' from late 1940 to May, 1941, when over 43,000 civilians were killed and a million homes were destroyed or damaged. Bombing became a little more sporadic after that; still, another nearly 10,000 civilians were to lost their lives. And in 1944 the buzzbombs and V-2 rockets replaced the aircraft.

"You could hear the whump-whump of the buzzbombs and see the flames coming out of the tail," Mary recalls. "Then the flame went out and you waited to hear the explosion." Explosions so intense that once the shock wave blew the windows out in her house."

A midnight sunset
The first time bombs were encountered, "we hid under the kitchen table. We were terrified." Mary's father was an eye doctor. Or as the English said: a sight specialist. He had a bomb shelter erected in the backyard. It was an "Anderson Shelter," something similar to a quonset hut buried in the ground and covered with concrete. It was maybe 8 feet x 15 feet.

"When we heard the wailing sound of the air raid siren we would head for the shelter."

On that one day, while carrying her baby brother and being followed closely by the family dog and cat, the young teen was on the way to the shelter when she had her close encounter with the shrapnel. "I was watching the sky," she said. London was burning and the sky was a sunset red-orange glow and searchlights cast ghostly trails through the smoke and haze as they scanned for the enemy.

Life goes on
Still life went on. School was different in England in those days. "We went to school to learn." When students reached a level of competency they were graduated. Mary was ready to move on at 14. She decided to be a beautician. Her father was less than elated, but he said if you are going to be a beautician you're going to be the best you can be. So he arranged for his eldest child to apprentice under a man who coiffured the nobles. It was at his establishment that the young intern met some of the great actresses of the times, was invited to their performances and developed her love for the live theater. It was her love of the theater that led to her marriage to a young band member who went on to become an aeronautical engineer.

"I went to listen to Tony (her first husband to be) play at the bomber plant and there was a young girl with braces and pigtails who showed promise as a singer. Her name? Julie Andrews."

To get from her home to work Mary had to take the "tube" for a half hour to London, then walk 15 or 20 minutes to work. Her father thought it might be better if she stayed in London, so he arranged for her to stay at her aunt's hotel.

When the bombs came they went to the cellar. The bombs fell and the ground shook. "It was incredibly violent." So father decided it was safer for her to be at home. Some English children were sent for safe keeping to Canada, others to Australia. Some never made it. And some that did never saw their families again. Mary's family stayed together.

"We moved on," she says pensively. "It was a sad part of my life. One I seldom wish to visit."

But it's 'visits' like this that gives us all the more to be thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving!