On the Sunday of Pearl Harbor I was in the library when the weekend librarian, Miss Boyle, the daughter of my physics teacher, rushed into the reading room (I was the only one in the library) and frantically said that they “had bombed Pearl Harbor” and we were at war. Neither of us knew where Pearl Harbor was, but certainly recognized Japan. We searched for Pearl Harbor in the stacks and found it in Hawaii. On my way back to Rockwell House, where most of the juniors (preps) lived, I ran into my classmate Larry Ward and told him of what had happened. On our 50th Reunion weekend, Larry reminded me that he first heard about the beginning of WWII from me. I had forgotten that, but will never forget that day and Miss Boyle. At 14 years old then, many of us went on to serve in the military—hardly an expectation when we arrived at school.