I was born in 1938 in a mining town, Kayford, at the head of Cabin Creek, about 35 miles from Charleston.

Not many of the men in town (about 2,000 pop.) actually fought in the war -- they were exempted because they were considered essential to the war effort.

I remember my mother taping black paper over our windows during blackout periods declared by our town warden. This was very scary because they turned on the sirens. I imagined bombs dropping on us.

My brother and I would scour the town looking for pieces of metal to sell to "the junk man" (it usually amounted to about twenty-five cents) who in turn sold it to someone to reuse for various war purposes. My mother always made the comment "I hope this isn't horse meat!" when we bought hamburger or meat from the company store. I also remember the ration books which limited each family to certain amounts of coffee, sugar and other items.

Submitted By : [email protected] (kleinstein)