Liberty Cuffs

Over the summer I was fortunate to acquire several Navy dress blue uniforms.  All are from the Vietnam War era, specifically the USS Towers, and in great condition.  I was excited to have a pair of the pants to wear this winter.  I already have a pair of WWII wool Army slacks, and they are amazing!  Made of wool.  Why wouldn't they be amazing?  But as I looked over the jumpers more closely (the Navy tops), I was excited to find gorgeous embroidered patches inside! 

King Neptune and seahorses

These embellishments are known as "liberty cuffs" date back to the 1890s.  Originally they were had hand-stitched on silk by Asian tailors; later they were mass produced.  The patches were available in numerous designs including dragons, mermaids, ships and various animals. 

a pair of cuffs I removed from a worn jumper

The long rectangular patches or embroidered ribbons were sewn inside the cuffs of the jumper.  When the sailors were on shore leave, or "liberty," they rolled their cuffs up to show off the designs.  This was against regulations and seen as an act of defiance.  But when back on ship, with the cuffs buttoned down, their uniforms appeared standard issue.

Class of 1958

In 1954 my father-in-law, John, packed his suitcase and headed to the southwest corner of the state to attend college.  This is the story of his suitcase.

Retro Restyle: Military Sweater

Now I've been known to take my husband's old flannel shirt and sew it into jammie pants for my son.  I've also repurposed my clothing down into something else for my daughter.  But this was the first time I've reworked a sweater. And I think I'm hooked.

I started with a 100% lambswool sweater in size large.  Bought it at the thrift store for $2.

Then I scrounged some coordinating cotton twill, buttons and patches from my supplies. 

I did a bit of cutting and embellishing and came up with this.

the impact of Pearl Harbor

All of us know the story of Pearl Harbor.  "Yesterday, December 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked..."  As children we learned about it in school.  As adults we saw the sweeping  Jerry Bruckheimer movie starring Ben Affleck.  A lucky few among us may have even visited the memorial site shown above. 

This past Veteran's Day I was inspired to do further research on some of the names I heard connected to the day's events.  I read about the Doolittle Raid over Tokyo, a direct retaliation for the bombings.  I researched the status of the United States' air and naval power, both before and after the attack.  I checked out Tom Brokaw's book, The Greatest Generation, from the library.  But is that all Pearl Harbor is now?  Interesting reading? 

The United States was struck down to its knees by the Japanese invasion.  However, when Congress declared war the following day, the Nation collectively dusted itself off and rolled up its sleeves.  Roosevelt's administration put the policies in place to ready the country.  Industries stop making cookware and started making bullets.  Men enlisted.  Women enlisted.  Those on the home front set up fund raising events, planted Victory Gardens, and ran scrap drives.  The Nation mobilized and never slowed down for four years.

So I got to wondering, do we still have that spirit within us today?  Would each of us be willing to sacrifice, bear the responsibility, and work together towards a common goal?  Now I'm sure there were plenty of complaints in the 1940s when folks really started to feel the effects of rationing.  And I'm sure there were some who profited on people's patriotism.  But it really must have been something to be part of such a profound national movement.

Now maybe it's due in part to the holiday season that my thoughts turn towards my charitable obligations.  After all, this is the season of red buckets.  But in one short month those ringing reminders will be off the streets.  Soon we'll all be back to our regular routines of immediately saying "thank you but I'm not interested" to all those unsolicited phone calls from the Cancer Society and the Special Olympics.

So this year I am challenging myself to look back on history and recapture that feeling.  The feeling that swept the Nation in 1941.  A feeling of determination and responsibility.  A need to step up and make a difference.  In the past I've volunteered time to run the children's story hour at the library every week.  And I chaperone school field trips.  I bake desserts for the funeral dinners at church and sing in the choir.  But somehow this seems lacking.

I'm not sure what it is yet, but I want to do more.  Maybe the Boys and Girls Club?  The local food pantry?  Or maybe I'll start by visiting my elderly next door neighbor a bit more often.  Small things count, and one by one, they all add up.  And if each of us extend a hand or volunteer an hour, we could transform our communities into the kind that the Greatest Generation fought so hard to preserve. 

So how about you?  Are you doing your part?

Honoring All Who Served

Friday morning I went to my children’s Veterans’ Day Program at school.   The local VFW and assembled veterans were seated at the front of the room while the children sat on the floor facing them.  

The mother in me was moved by all those high-pitched, little voices trying to hit the high notes in the National Anthem.  I’m always surprised how quickly my eyes well up where my children are involved.

The daughter in me teared up as I thought about my father.  At the age of eighteen, he was drafted into the Army and spent two years overseas during the Korean War.  His jacket hangs in my closet; his portrait in my dining room.  He was dashing.  And though he never talked about those two years, he was fiercely proud.  He passed away five years ago.  

The historian in me mourned the inevitable loss of the collective human experience over the last seventy years.  The veterans passed the microphone down the line, stating their names and ranks.   “I fought in the Battle of the Bulge.”  “We bombed Hanoi.”  “I was a radio operator in a B-24.”  “Medic, Vietnam.”  “U.S. Army Infantry, third generation Veteran.”  These men had countless stories of duty and valor, heartache and fear, but we would not hear them.  If they are anything like my father, they don’t talk about it.  They are seen as Grandfathers and kindly old neighbors, the audacity of their youth softened by time.  Their recognition comes but once a year, on Veterans’ Day.  

I left that elementary school gymnasium and headed straight for the library.  I checked out Tom Brokaw's book, The Greatest Generation.  I'm on page 114 tonight, and I may just pass up the new episode of Upstairs, Downstairs to continue reading.  As Brokaw states, these were ordinary men and women who were asked to do extraordinary things.  

They should continue to be honored every day.  

We should never forget.

My father, 1950.