by Maureen Taylor
The other day my daughter finished reading Under the Blood Red Sun, by Graham Salisbury (Laurel Leaf, $6.50) about kids living on the island of Oahu around the time of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. She liked the book enough to chat about it on a long car ride to see her grandparents. I thought this was the perfect time to bring up family history.
It was one of those moments when history, family and family history collide. You know what I mean. My dad, who is eighty-five, and my daughter, who is thirteen, don’t have a lot of things in common. He doesn’t use the Internet, watch Disney movies, or keep up with teenage fashion. He is, however, a walking, talking history book. Dad was in his early twenties when the bombs fell on Pearl Harbor and quickly joined the war effort. He was eventually stationed in Hawaii. When I mentioned this to my daughter she just turned and stared for a moment. “Really,” she said. Suddenly all their differences didn’t matter. They had something in common.
A few days ago I read an article in the...
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