I've always loved history, and I've memorized the details of WWII too many times.
However, when my dad came to visit me in New Orleans I decided he should go to the D-Day museum with me since I get my love for history from him.
I had no idea. Somehow the museum put everything into perspective to me. All of the numbers branded in ink upon textbooks were illuminated and I felt vividly overwhelmed. My father, a large redneck man, would stand before a picture or handwritten letter and explain its significance in his own voice. I found myself crying somehow despite my fear of showing emotion in front of him, it was really incredible. I finally understand why my father and his family are the way they are. I finally understand what the numbers and dates and names actually mean.
The propaganda was somewhat humorous and somewhat disturbing. And the giant map of lights that illustrated our bombing of Japan...
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However, when my dad came to visit me in New Orleans I decided he should go to the D-Day museum with me since I get my love for history from him.
I had no idea. Somehow the museum put everything into perspective to me. All of the numbers branded in ink upon textbooks were illuminated and I felt vividly overwhelmed. My father, a large redneck man, would stand before a picture or handwritten letter and explain its significance in his own voice. I found myself crying somehow despite my fear of showing emotion in front of him, it was really incredible. I finally understand why my father and his family are the way they are. I finally understand what the numbers and dates and names actually mean.
The propaganda was somewhat humorous and somewhat disturbing. And the giant map of lights that illustrated our bombing of Japan...
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