WORDS

Words .   .   .     written or spoken   .   .   .                                                                                                                                                                                           Is there a more powerful manifestation of man’s intelligence?

Words have enormous power.   They can be devastatingly negative and hurtful.   They can be exhilaratingly beautiful.   They can heal. They can teach. They can destroy.

A reader of both my book and this blogsite contacted me by email. Did I have any copies of the newsletter? she asked.   [I have worked on dozens of newsletters   –   all aspects from writing to production — for organizations large and small.] Barely able to contain myself, I asked if she would be willing to send me copies of her copies.   After some time elapsed, several emails going and coming, and navigating the complexities of sending LARGE files across cyberspace, the files started to populate my “in box.”   First one newsletter, then another, then yet another. Three issues of The BeanPot –   the weekly newsletter aboard the “Big B”   Other documents came as well, including yet another newsletter named the “BEE.”

Courtesy of the family Of Augustus Harris, S1C, CA-69

So, here we have it   –   yellowed and tattered-edged pieces of paper, full of drawings by crewmembers, full of columns of words pounded out on old typewriters — some words faded and almost illegible, some clear and strong. Jokes. Words of wisdom by the Chaplain (who doubled as the Editor).   Bits and pieces of “inside jokes” and info about what different divisions were doing.   The first issue complains about the on-going lack of participation in the newsletter by the crew (4 pages)   The ‘second’ one — six months later is 10 pages long.   The last one reflects an entirely different tone   –   the war was over and they were on Occupation Duty.   That issue is all about boxing matches and other pressing matters.

Sixty-five years later, these documents and their words reach out across time in a way that no history book, no documentary ever could.   A little piece of the fabric of   the crewmembers’ lives aboard the Boston during the epic Pacific War, frozen in time, comes to life on fading, yellowed sheets of paper.   A big-smile bonus for me and my siblings:   seeing my father’s name in one of the articles.

My youngest son, Thaddeus, turns 20 the end of next month.   A whole ship full of kids his age served   aboard the “B”   – doing everything from   producing a weekly newsletter to shooting down enemy divebombers swooping in to sink their ship.

Steve