I was born in the late ’60s, so obviously I was not around during World War II. But my parents were. My dad, Bill Gillis, never talked with me about the war, although I know he served in the Coast Guard in Miami. He was 26 years old when America entered the war.
My mom, Joy Washburn Gillis, told me more about the war from her perspective, although she didn’t elaborate much. The war was a traumatic experience for her, so she didn’t like to talk about it. After my later experience of 9/11, I understood why she didn’t want to remember the world war.
My mom was born in April 1926. When Germany invaded Poland in 1939, she was 13 years old and starting 9th grade, as she started school a year younger than normal. By the time she graduated high school in 1943, the United States was neck deep in the war. So, her teen years were shaped by the war.
She always remembered the day Pearl Harbor was attacked. It was during her junior year of high school. She was at home doing her civics homework when her family heard the news on the radio. The next day, she listened to FDR’s address and never forgot it.
By the end of her senior year of high school, in the spring of 1943, America was neck-deep in the war. She said there were very few boys at her high school graduation. Most had already left to serve in the war.
My mom went straight from her high school graduation to work at the air depot as a secretary. Her Aunt Ruby LaSenius Walter had taught her secretarial skills and helped her get that job. My mom worked at the air depot till the war ended, and then she went into the private sector to work in Port Everglades as an executive secretary for Sun Oil Company, which ran the Sunoco filling stations.
My mom told me Miami had blackout curtains and air raid drills during the war. Even though the war was mostly overseas, the Atlantic waters had submarines, so port cities like Miami were on alert.
Those are all the details my mom shared. She wanted me to have a basic understanding without having to relive everything in her mind. I understood that it was hard for her, and I never pressed her for more information. After my trauma of 9/11, I especially get it.
I have often looked back at how my parents enjoyed relaxing evening cookouts with family and friends when I was growing up. Considering that was only 20+ years after the war ended, I understand why they just wanted to be calm and relaxed and enjoy life together.
The only other thing my mom shared about the war is how one of our male family members wanted to be in the midst of the battles, and another one didn’t. The one who wanted to be in battle got stationed somewhere quiet, and the one who didn’t want it was stationed right in the midst of the fighting.
Thankfully, they both came through the war unscathed. But she said they complained to each other afterward that they had each taken the assignment the other wanted. They always gave each other a hard time about it, affectionately of course, and they were certainly grateful they both had survived.
Exploring Generations 