Across The Fence: '... a date that will live in infamy.'

"Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941, a date that will live in world history." So read the first line of the draft handed to President Franklin D. Roosevelt on the morning of Dec. 8, 1941.

The original draft of that speech shows that President Roosevelt drew a sharp line through the words "world history" and boldly wrote "infamy." That speech and its opening line has been indelibly etched on the collective memories of generations of Americans. Its consequences have been carved in the names, dates and ranks on hundreds of thousands of white granite stones in military cemeteries throughout the world.

On Dec. 7, 1941, my mother was the guest of honor at a birthday party in Farmington, Kansas. She had turned 13 years old the day before and was celebrating the milestone step to teenager, with friends from the one-room schoolhouse she attended in the Star School District. The Sunday afternoon radio program that played in the background was suddenly silenced and the program announcer began:

"We interrupt this program... Flash! The White House announces Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor."

My father remembers going into the house after returning home from church, it was shortly after noontime. Grandpa had hooked a car battery to the terminals of the radio, they had no electricity in the house, and turned the dial past the crackle of static until the local station came through clearly. As he stood in the doorway of the living room he heard the words of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, "We are at war with the Japanese empire!"

Dad was 19 years old, his half-brothers were each under ten years of age. At that time, Grandpa farmed eight separate, 80-acre tracts of land. In those days that was an unusually large spread for a two-man operation with an Allis Chalmers WC and a two-bottom plow. The local draft board classified him as being critical for the continuation of agricultural endeavors and exempted him from the draft. "They wouldn't let me go," Dad told me.

The still sketchy details of the attack were horrifying and a stunned nation gathered around their living room radios for the latest developments. The next day, at 12:30 p.m., on Dec. 8 President Roosevelt delivered the famous speech that unified a nation around a common cause and intensified a world conflict that had mobilized the largest force of fighting men ever assembled for battle.

My mother's older brother could hardly wait for his high school graduation, just five months away, and although underage he would coerce my grandfather into signing his release to join the U.S. Navy. As a Pharmacists' Mate, he would experience several battles first hand, have one ship blown out from under him and his shipmates, and witness his share of the "horrors of war." He returned home with battle scars of many kinds.

President Roosevelt's speech was made to the United States Congress and broadcast to the entire nation and the listening world. The House of Representatives, normally divided sharply between Democrats and Republicans, collectively cheered and applauded Roosevelt's condemnation of the Japanese empire's "deliberate deception" and his call to arms against the enemies of America and the civilized world. Even Roosevelt's staunchest critics joined the cause of retribution and retaliation. Charles Lindburg, who was a leading isolationist, declared:

"Now war has come and we must meet it as united Americans regardless of our attitude in the past toward the policy our Government has followed. ... Our country has been attacked by force of arms, and by force of arms we must retaliate. We must now turn every effort to building the greatest and most efficient Army, Navy and Air Force in the world."

The following day, both houses of Congress voted to support their Commander-In-Chief's appeal for a call to arms and almost unanimously passed a Declaration of War. Almost unanimous? Almost, when young men all across the continent were flocking to enlistment centers throughout the nation to join the fight. Almost unanimous when even those who most strongly opposed President Franklin's policies voted "Aye" when asked to commit our country's resources and the lives of our young men. Who would dare to vote "Nay?" The attack on Pearl Harbor had killed 2,403 Americans and wounded at least another 1,200.

There was only one dissenting vote. On that day, Montana Congresswoman Jeannette Rankin stood alone on the floor of Congress and said, "As a woman, I can't go to war, and I refuse to send anyone else. Killing more people won't help matters."

World War II left nearly 25 million soldiers dead on the battlefields of the world and resulted in the deaths of more than 50 million civilians.

Jeannette Rankin was the first woman to be elected to Congress prior to World War I. She was also a dedicated, lifelong pacifist. In 1917, during a debate in Congress, Congresswoman Rankin spoke briefly before casting her vote on the call to arms for World War I. She said:

"I want to stand by my country, but I cannot vote for war. I vote no."

Although not the only one to vote against the U.S. involvement in World War I, her vote resulted in many believing that women were not capable of making crucial decisions at the national level. Two years later she was voted out of office. However, in 1940, Rankin was again elected to Congress where she cast the single opposing vote to the declaration of war against Japan.

When word of her opposing vote reached those who had gathered outside the Whitehouse, many patriots threatened to attack her. As she left the Whitehouse angry mobs pressed in around her with threats of violence. Because of these threats Congresswoman Rankin was compelled to barricade herself in a phone booth where she called the Capitol Police and was escorted to safety. Congresswoman Rankin was denounced by the press, accused of being disloyal to the United States and was called "Japanette Rankin," along with other less polite names. However, she stood by her convictions and never apologized for her vote. When her term expired, she chose not to run for office but continued to be an active voice for women's rights and for peace. In 1968, at the age of 87 years, she led a campaign against the war in Viet Nam.

There is a time for war and I have the highest regard for those who have served our country and I honor those who have given their lives. Their sacrifice is a debt beyond our ability to repay. I also admire those with the courage to stand by their convictions and refuse to compromise their personal integrity.

Jeannette Rankin was born June 11, 1880, and died May 18, 1973. Before her death she remarked: "If I had my life to live over, I would do it all again, but this time I would be nastier."

The first week of December has always commanded a certain tug of recognition and remembrance for me. From the declaration of "...a date that will live in infamy," an event that forever changed the course of history, to the stories of family swept up in that turmoil and the sudden end of my mother's childhood. Her thirteenth birthday celebration must have been a harsh crossing into an adult world, innocence lost amongst a world at war.

When I discovered the story of Jeanette Rankin I was reminded of my mother. No, she was not a politician nor was she a well-known public figure. She was not active in the advocacy for women's rights or a banner-waving proponent of world peace. She was however a strong-willed woman who refused to be confined within the "accepted norm" for women of her time. She held strongly to her personal opinions and beliefs and was unafraid to express them privately or publicly when the occasion presented itself. She was as comfortable in overalls perched on a tractor seat as she was in her Sunday best sitting on the organ bench as she played the hymns for worship.

She had strength of character that was forged in a time of economic depression, dustbowl days and devastating drought. She was housewife and mother, teacher, student and professional businesswoman. She acquired her teaching certificate in her senior year of high school and taught in a one-room school at the age of 18. Many years later she would graduate from college when she was in her seventies. Between those years she worked the fields and tended livestock alongside her husband and raised my six siblings and me, a task that could not have been easy.

I learned the worth of hard work and integrity from my dad. From my mom I learned what it meant to be a gentleman. I learned compassion, patience and self-worth from her. She instilled in me a curiosity of the world, a quest for knowledge, a passion for life and a love of music and words.

Her memory is indelibly etched in my memory. Dec. 6, 1928; Happy Birthday, Mom.

Tim Nolting is an award-winning Nebraska columnist and freelance writer. Contact Tim via e-mail at [email protected]