I was born in 1925. I lived on a farm with my family seven miles east of Norman, went to a one-room school with all eight grades in the same room. When the eldest of three girls was ready for the 9th grade, we moved closer to town — one mile south of Norman.
That is where we lived when one Sunday morning the news came over the radio of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.
Life changed. Car factories quit making cars and started making Army jeeps, trucks, tanks, all sorts of war equipment. Gas was rationed. Shoes were rationed.
Fabric disappeared from the stores. Food was rationed. Everything went to the war effort. No one complained. Everyone had to do their part for the war. Even I, as a teenager, was amazed at how quickly our country could do without our unnecessary stuff and willingly give it up for the war effort.
While in high school, I joined the Junior Red Cross. One of our projects was to make bandages.
If you kept your grades up, you could work on them during study hall. If not, you could work on them after school.
Old bed sheets were donated to the Red Cross. The sheets were torn into 4-inch strips. The job of the Red Cross kids was to fold them into four squares. We packed them neatly into boxes; they were then sterilized and shipped to the Army for field use — a far cry from Army use today.
I still have my membership card of the Junior Red Cross and the tag we wore when we were working.
I became engaged to a soldier that came to Norman. ... We became engaged, and he later was shipped to Hawaii, then to Okinawa.
Toward the end of the war, I was getting ready for my marriage. Remember, no fabric to be purchased, so I complained to my future husband. He took care of the “no fabric” problem. Somehow (I don’t know the story), he got a parachute and shipped it to me.
My sister made me a gown and negligee (a term not used anymore). I still have it.
I suppose one of the great changes for Norman was the government bought two square miles of farm land across the road from our farm. It became a huge naval air station; 30,000 sailors were trained there.
It was a very quiet affair. Jeeps patrolled the fence sometimes, and a bunch of barracks were built. After the war, OU bought the property and used it for classrooms and married student apartments.
Submitted by Macie Jackson, 82, of Edmond
