CINCINNATI

Here's a personal story.   One might say I'm not really a native Cincinnatian.   You see, I was born 750 miles away.  

Both of my parents were Cincinnatians - mother from Norwood and father from Mt. Adams. They were married in June 1944.  My father was in the service and on leave before a scheduled departure for the Pacific theater during World War II.  Dad was stationed at that time at the Army Air Corps base in Orlando, Florida.  Orlando wasn't much more than a stop in the road at that time.  Dad headed back there after the wedding.

As fortune and misfortune sometimes play together,  Dad's mother became very ill and was near death in the late Summer of '44.   My dad was the youngest of the 12 children she birthed and the only one of her seven sons still in the States.   He was allowed to come home to be with her.  

She passed away in September.  After the funeral, my dad reported back to his unit in Orlando and found they had already left for overseas.  He was told to wait for the next unit to be formed.  During this time, my mother found that she was pregnant with me.  She boarded a train to Orlando to be with my father as long as possible.  

As it turned out, Dad was in Orlando for almost a year before he had to ship out.  Mom gave birth to me in the Army Air Corp Hospital on the base in June '45 - Dad left for the Philippines in September; by that time, the war all but over.  He headed back home in February 1946.

I returned to Cincinnati in September 1945 by train - just less than three months old.  It was the first time I saw Cincinnati and the Union Terminal which is now the Museum Center.  

😦