From the Left Hand Corner: The day of infamy
It was toward the end of a cold December Sunday. I don’t remember much detail, but I believe the outside chores were done. The only radio in the house was tuned to the only station that played through the nighttime static.
President Roosevelt was on the air. His voice, in slow and measured fashion, sounded deep and commanding to this barely 6-year-old boy. Whatever was programmed was interrupted.