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Untitled
Submitted by: Lenox Stonehill
At perhaps fours of age I was having my afternoon nap when I heard an air raid warden yelling at my house. He had seen the light of a struck match. My mother had lit a cigarette.
When the war ended, throngs of people came into the streets of my neighborhood, Sunnyside Gardens, Queens. Though my mother warned there was a false armistice in the First World War, we too celebrated by marching in the streets.
Eventually, rationing ended. I remember visiting the local butcher shop, sawdust on the floor, to see what might be available.
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