DEAR EDITOR:

My memories are my recollection of the past. Disquieting. I am searching today, delving into the comparison of an off-color world (the present) compared to how I once knew it.

It was 1945. I was born into a nation celebrating the victory over a Nazi regime, along with an imperial regime that committed acts of profound cruelty. The pull of a city trying to change and the American people that once celebrated they had won a war — showing that win with the love of each other, with hugs and kisses.

At that time, we had a president named Harry S. Truman. He was basically quiet; however, he had accomplished much. Following him was Dwight D. Eisenhower, another giant when it came to leadership. He advanced American infrastructure with its superhighways — again, he was a man of few words. They never bragged about their accomplishments. They possessed the substance of innovators.

Above all else, they had respect for others. Yes, in my mind’s eye, I can clearly remember how it once was — the way we were.

Please, let us reflect on the Barbra Streisand song of 1973, “The Way We Were.”

Memories

Light the corners of my mind.

Misty watercolor memories

Of the way we were.

Scattered pictures

of the smiles we left behind.

Smiles we gave to one another

For the way we were.

Can it be that it was all so simple then?

Or has time re-written every line?

If we had the chance to do it all again

Tell me, would we?

Could we?

Memories

May be beautiful and yet

What’s too painful to remember

We simply choose to forget.

So it’s the laughter

We will remember

Whenever we remember

the way we were.

The way we were.

PAUL LAWSON

McDonald