I'm Still Scared

by Tomie dePaola

  The stocking counter was different. Stacks and stacks of thin boxes were lined up against the back wall. Each box had a pair of stockings in it. The nylons were off to one side. The boxes were arranged by size and color.

  “What size and which color?” the saleslady would ask the customer. If the customer didn’t know the color, the saleslady would get several boxes off the stack. She’d open one box at a time, folding back the tissue paper. Then she’d carefully put her hand into the stocking so the customer could see the color against the saleslady’s skin.

  “Here,” Dad said. He handed me a slip of paper. On it he had written Mom’s size and the color she liked. I handed it to the saleslady. She took a flat box off the shelf.

  “Would you like to see how pretty your mommy’s legs will look in this color?” she asked.

  “Yes, please,” I answered. I wanted to see the nylon stocking on her hand.

  Upham’s Department Store was great because of two things.

  They did free gift wrapping at a special counter. You could pick out the paper and ribbon and watch the lady wrap the box perfectly and make the fanciest bows I had ever seen.

  And there were NO cash registers at any of the counters. The salesclerks would put a slip of paper with the price on it and the money in a little metal box. Then they would clip the box onto moving wires that went all over the ceiling of the store. The little box would end up at the cashier’s cage in the back of the store. There, ladies would make the change, put it back in the metal box, and clip it back on the moving wires. In no time at all, it would end up at the counter where it started!

  I loved to watch all those little boxes whizing around the store. It would make a great ride at the Savin Rock Amusement Park.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mom was busy all week sewing the blackout curtains. She had a “portable Singer sewing machine” that she would put on the dining room table. It was electric and to make it go, you have to press a little lever that fit in a slot on the front with your right leg, just above the knee.

  Nana’s sewing machine was an old-fashioned “Singer.” It was in the “sewing room” under the stairs at her house in Wallingford . It took up more room than Mom’s sewing machine. It smelled oily. The way you made it sew was to push with both feet on a metal plate that moved up and down. That made the sewing needle go up and down, too. We kids were not allowed to touch either sewing machine.

  “You could sew the needle right through your finger, if you don’t know how to work it,” Nana always warned.

  After a week, there was a pile of black curtains all ready to hang on the windows of the rooms of the first floor and even the little windows at the top of the walls in the basement.

  Dad said, “Every house in Meriden and Wallingford has to have blackout curtains. Maybe in all of Connecticut. Maybe in the whole country.”

  I was disappointed that the bedrooms, especially the bedroom I shared with Buddy, wouldn’t have blackout curtains.

  “What if I turn the light on—by mistake,” I said.

  “Oh, I’ll bet you won’t,” Mom said, smiling.

  So, the blackout curtains were all ready.

  They had to be put up so NO light would show out the windows at night.

  “We’ll have to close them every night before we turn the lights on. That way, enemy airplanes won’t see anything from way up,” Mom said. “They won’t even know Meriden is here.”

  “If they ever come here,” I said, a little worried again.

  “That’s right, Tomie. If they EVER come here,” Mom said. “Now let’s get the bus so we can go to Miss Leah’s.”

  On the bus to Dancing School, I heard some grown-ups talking.

  “All this fuss,” the lady said. “I had to sew and sew and sew those silly blackout curtains. What would enemy planes care about Meriden for?”

  “Well,” the other lady said, “we have some important factories here. Why, I understand that every ball bearing that is being used in all the war equipment is made right here in Meriden.”

  “Is that true?” I whispered to Mom.

  “I suppose so,” she said. “The New Departure factory makes ball bearings. You should ask your father tonight when he gets home from work.”

  My dad was the State Barber Examiner for the state of Connecticut. His office was in the State Office Building in Hartford, Connecticut. It was right near the State Capitol building.

  Buddy and I had visited Dad’s office a couple of times.

  Dad had an assistant called Joe Suma. Their job was to visit the barbershops in Connecticut to make sure they were clean. Barbershops were supposed to follow “Health Rules.” One important rule was that barbershops had to have a big jar of blue liquid to keep all the combs in. It was called a “SANITIZER.” It killed germs and stuff.

  “If you don’t see a sanitizer on the barber’s counter,” Dad told us, “don’t go in. You might get cooties from a dirty comb.”

  I thought Dad’s job was very important.

  There were two ladies in Dad’s office, too. They were the secretaries. My favorite was Miss Monica Schwartz. One time she gave me some stationery with Dad’s name on it. I was very impressed. I took it to school, but Miss Gardner just looked at it and said, “That’s nice. Now get back to your arithmetic.”

  We knew Miss Monica Schwartz pretty well. She was Joe Suma’s girlfriend. She had us call her by her nickname, “Monnie.” Monnie and Joe were from Waterbury. It was near Meriden.

  Monnie and Joe came to our house for hot dog roasts and parties all the time. Monnie could do somersaults. Dad took home movies of her. She was a favorite of us kids.

  As soon as Dad walked in the door, I asked him about the ball bearings.

  “Dad, is it true that all the ball bearings used in the war stuff are made right here in Meriden?”

  “That’s true, Tomie. And guess what? I’m going to be working at New Departure,” Dad said.

  “What about inspecting all the barbershops?” Buddy asked.

  “I’ll still go to Hartford every day Monday through Friday. I’ll be working at the factory at night.”

  Dad told us that all the state workers were being asked to take “war jobs” along with their other jobs.

  “How are you going to do that?” Buddy asked.

  “After New Year‘s, I’ll still be working in my office just like I do now, but not all day. I’ll be working at New Departure as a ‘foreman.’ That means I’ll make sure everyone’s doing their job. I’ll be working what they call the ‘graveyard shift’ from midnight until eight-thirty in the morning.”

  “When will you sleep?” I asked.

  Dad said that he would get home from Hartford around three in the afternoon and go to bed and sleep until eleven at night. Then he would go to New Departure to work until eight-thirty in the morning, come home, have breakfast, clean up, and then go back to his office in Hartford.

  “I won’t get to see as much of you as I do now,” Dad said, “except on weekends.”

  And he was right.

  For the whole war, we never saw Dad except on Saturdays and Sundays. When we got home from school, he was asleep. Then he left for work when we were asleep. Dad was always either “upstairs asleep” or “at work.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Well, even though we were at war, Christmas was great. We had a beautiful tree.

  Mom and Dad’s Christmas Eve Party was crowded with people that I know: Uncle Charles and his girlfriend, Viva; Mickey Lynch; Vinnie (from Wallingford, too) and his girlfriend, Queenie; Monnie and Joe; our cousin Helen and her husband, Carl, who is a soldier; Cousin Mabel and her husband, Bill Powers; Mr. and Mrs. Nadile; Mr. and Mrs. Houdlette; the Conroys; and all the neighbors and friends from all over Meriden and Wallingford.

  The next morning Buddy, Maureen, and I got up very early. We wanted to see what Santa Claus had brought us. We got lots of things, including a big swing and seesaw set for the backyard.

  We had Christmas dinner
in Wallingford at Nana and Tom’s. Nana gave me a new diary for 1942. She and Tom gave Buddy and me a small radio for our bedroom.

  On the way home, Dad decided to drive around a little so we could see people’s Christmas decorations and lights.

  “We may not see this for a while,” he said.

  Because of the war, I thought.

  When we got home, we turned on the outside lights on the bushes, the electric candles in the windows, and the Christmas tree. We were allowed to have outside Christmas lights on for a few hours each night during Christmastime.

  Two days later, Mom took Jeannie and me to see Mr. Walt Disney’s brand-new movie, Dumbo. It was about a little elephant who had big ears and could fly. It was excellent although Mrs. Jumbo, Dumbo’s mother, got put in jail for spanking some mean boys that made fun of Dumbo’s ears. I liked the part where Mrs. Jumbo puts her trunk out of the barred windows and Dumbo crawls onto it. Then Mrs. Jumbo sings a lullaby. It was so sad.

  Mr. Walt Disney really knows how to make very good cartoon movies.

  A few days later, Mom and I met Carol Morrissey and her mom at the Capitol Theatre to see Mr. Bug Goes to Town. That was the movie Miss Leah wanted us to see. It was all about these bugs that lived in an empty lot right near Broadway in New York City. The hero was a grasshopper named Hoppity. His girlfriend was a honeybee.

  The main song was “We’re the Couple in the Castle.” That was the song that Billy Burns and I would sing to our partners, Patty Clark and Carol Morrissey. Gosh, I thought, will we boys be GRASSHOPPERS and the girls BEES?

  Even though it wasn’t by Mr. Walt Disney, it was a really good movie, too. The movies were a Double Feature, so we settled down to wait for the second movie, then the newsreel started. It was filled with scenes of burning buildings in London, England, explosions everywhere, and air raid sirens blasting out. Mom and Mrs. Morrissey quickly took Carol and me out to the lobby.

  Mom put her arm around me and whispered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see that!”

  Carol’s mother was talking quietly to her, too. Carol and I looked at each other. I was afraid I would not be able to sleep at night. I was afraid I’d have nightmares about all those destroyed buildings and all the hurt people.

  It was the first time I actually saw WAR, even though it was only in the movies.

  The End

  Franklin D. Roosevelt’s

  Pearl Harbor Speech,

  December 8, 1941

  Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, Members of the Senate, and of the House of Representatives:

  Yesterday, December 7th, 1941—a date which will live in infamy—the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

  The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

  Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleagues delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.

  It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

  The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

  Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

  Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

  Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

  Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philip-pine Islands.

  Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

  And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

  Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

  As commander in chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

  No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

  I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

  Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.

  With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph—so help us God.

  I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.

  A Note from the Author

  Over the years, letters from my young readers have increasingly asked, “When are you going to write a chapter book?” But the idea seemed daunting. Then one day, my longtime assistant, Bob Hechtel, made a suggestion. “Why don’t you write about all the things that you talk about from your childhood, but can’t put in a single picture book?” DING—the bell went off—the lightbulb lit. And here I am, six books and seven years later.

  From the beginning, it wasn’t hard for me to conjure up all the clear memories I have (and have had for years) of my immediate family and all the friends that surrounded me during my growing-up years. And I was fortunate to have those memories reinforced by hours of home movies that my father and mother took from the time I was one year old.

  Once I had written 26 Fairmount Avenue, I knew there was no turning back. But it was particularly interesting for me to find myself back on Sunday, December 7, at the end of Things Will NEVER Be the Same. Hearing Roosevelt’s voice, seeing the expression on my mother’s face, and feeling the uncertainty as if it all happened yesterday: I was in the beginning of “The War Years.”

  When I began the series back in 1999, I never imagined how timely these later books would become as families today experience the same turmoil and concerns of war that I remember as a little boy. I hope you will find my memories of “The War Years” as moving and vivid as they have been for me.

  New Hampshire, 2006

  Come home to 26 Fairmount Avenue!

  26 FAIRMOUNT AVENUE

  A Newbery Honor Book

  “A wonderful introduction to the art of the memoir.”

  —The Boston Globe

  “Effervescent ... dePaola seems as at home in this format as he did when he first crossed the threshold of 26 Fairmount Avenue, an address readers will eagerly revisit in the series’ subsequent tales.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  HERE WE ALL ARE

  “DePaola continues to share engaging childhood memories in this breezy follow-up to 26 Fairmount Avenue.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  ON MY WAY

  “DePaola is irresistible.”

  —Kirhus Reviews (starred review)

  “DePaola’s writing and recollective skills are so fresh that kids will feel like he’s sitting right next to them.”

  —The Horn Book

  WHAT A YEA
R

  “As charming and engaging as its predecessors.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  THINGS WILL NEVER BE THE SAME

  “The fifth installment in the series is delightful.”

  —School Library Journal

  Tomie dePaola is known for his popular picture books about his childhood, including Nana Upstairs & Nana Downstairs and The Baby Sister. He received a Caldecott Honor for Strega Nona. 26 Fairmount Avenue, his first chapter book and the first book in this series, is a Newbery Honor Book. Visit Tomie’s Web site at www.tomie.com