Emphasis Preaching Journal

One of the most vivid memories of my childhood involves the years of World War II. I was the only child in my family. I remember the trauma in our home when my father got the notice that he was to be drafted into the Army. I can still recall the talk in our little mountain community about all the bombs that were stored in the nearby military ordnance depot. The story about Dad getting drafted had a pleasant end. He was not drafted, as the war was coming to a close and the married men were withheld from the draft for a few months. But I do have one memory that will not go away.