Little did we realize that memorable weekend of October 27 of 1941, how much life would soon change for us and for the people of the United States. That day was the last Navy day before World War II and I remember it because it was a special time for my family. I was nine years old and my Grandma and Grandpa Miller and my uncle had taken the train from Colorado to California. They were staying with my Aunt Cecil and Uncle Gail in San Diego. Late Friday evening my family made the 160-mile trip from our home in San Bernadino to San Diego.

That night the melody of the Pacific Ocean, not more than a block away from the house, echoed through our dreams as waves swept the seashore. The rising sun found my sister, little cousin and I running to the beach, eager to explore. The world was serene and quiet that morning, only a few others were swimming. We could not go very far but we loved playing in the salty sea. We searched the sandy beach for unusual shells to take home. How peaceful the endless ocean seemed to us that long ago day. We didn't realize that trouble lay just over the rim of our world.

After our early morning swim we ate our breakfast. Even from the table we could see and hear the splashing of the waves against the sand.

That morning we went downtown to San Diego to watch the Navy Day Parade. Thousands of young, marching sailors in dress uniform paraded down the street. The music of the military bands filled the air. As we watched the marching procession none of us dreamed that in one month and four days the United States would join in a long battle against oppression. The fight for freedom and liberty would take the lives of many of those youthful men.

After the parade we went to tour a battleship. We reached it by way of a small glass bottomed boat where we watched the fish swimming underwater.

The enormous battleship was also an aircraft carrier and held thousands of sailors, who although they could see land could not leave the ship. We were only permitted to see a limited amount of that huge ship. One large room was used for a basketball and tennis court and another for a cafe and newsstand. In the amazingly large kitchen food was being cooked. I can still remember the tantalizing sight and smell of pork chops, stacked like cards that filled several huge trays and enormous containers of white mashed potatoes.

I don't know the name of the battleship but I'm sure that it must have played a big part in the war that was just over the horizon. Life for those sailors was drastically changed when World War II began.

That peaceful Saturday afternoon we drove the 30 miles to Old Mexico, went shopping and had our pictures taken sitting in a Mexican cart.

Sunday morning we went to an amusement park close to my aunt's home. At noon we climbed up steps to a picnic ground that overlooked the great ocean. That was the end of that special Navy Day weekend.

Our lives changed in the months to come. The trains my grandparents traveled on were soon filled with soldiers and sailors on their way to war. Rumors of submarines and enemies filled the newspapers and the radio. My family would leave California because they felt it was too dangerous and life would never be the same again except in an old faded snapshot of a happy, smiling family, with sombreros on their heads, sitting in a cart. A nine-year-old girl, with hair in her eyes, is sitting on a striped zebra. I wish I could walk back into the picture and recapture those carefree, happy days.