The American Legion Weekly [Volume 4, No30 (July 28, 1922)] . ride us to our No, it wasnt such a quiet welcomeeither. Horns honkin, sirens soundinoff, signal whistles tootin like mad—every car in town rolled up to that doorwith good old home folks grinning atthe wheel. What I mean by quiet isthat they werent throwing their hats in the air that Sunday night and cheer-ing. What you heard was: Shove that money in your pocket,buddy. Its no good here. Goin uptown? Goin south? Room for five! Pile in! That was the first time a big lumpgot stuck in my throat and I got a littlemisty round the
The American Legion Weekly [Volume 4, No30 (July 28, 1922)] . ride us to our No, it wasnt such a quiet welcomeeither. Horns honkin, sirens soundinoff, signal whistles tootin like mad—every car in town rolled up to that doorwith good old home folks grinning atthe wheel. What I mean by quiet isthat they werent throwing their hats in the air that Sunday night and cheer-ing. What you heard was: Shove that money in your pocket,buddy. Its no good here. Goin uptown? Goin south? Room for five! Pile in! That was the first time a big lumpgot stuck in my throat and I got a littlemisty round the lamps. There may beplaces where nobody cares, and I guessyou live in a town like that. But thesehome folks, theyve got some care—and they understand dont say much, and they dontweep down our necks. But theyre forus, buddy, and they have good reasonswhy. That was O. D. Day, my log drab uniforms, thousands andthousands of em, pouring out underdrab skies. But Monday morning the good oldsun comes bustin out and brightens on.
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Keywords: ., bookauthoramerican, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookyear1922
