July 5, 1941 - Her First Journal Entry

On New Years Day I decided it was time to go back in and look at another entry. I found the thought of it scary but a friend of mine sat with me to help me through it. I figured being the new year I should look at my Grandmother's first posting in her diary. I found it very disturbing for the first few minutes I could not breathe. My friend held me. Its now 10 days later and I am finally calm enough to write this posting.

Please add comments for me as it will help me deal with the pressure associated with reading this.

(July 5, 1941) On New Years Day I decided it was time to go back in and look at another entry. I found the thought of it scary but a friend of mine sat with me to help me through it. I figured being the new year I should look at my Grandmother's first posting in her diary. I found it very disturbing for the first few minutes I could not breathe. My friend held me. Its now 10 days later and I am finally calm enough to write this posting.

Please add comments for me as it will help me deal with the pressure associated with reading this.


(July 5, 1941) As I sit her on the cold dirt floor, I look over at my dad as he sits at the kitchen table in tears. This is the first time I ever saw my father cry. My Aunt once told me that he is the strongest person she knew. We used to have a nice kitchen table made of cherry wood. My mom used to polish it every day. That was before they came to take it all away. All they left us was this rickety card table and three ricketly wicker chairs. They did not even leave enough for all of us to sit together at dinner. My brothers were quite upset. "Could you not leave us at least 5 chairs?" my brother asked. The soldier looked at my brother and was about to signal the other soldiers to grab him but my dad quickly and calmly appologized. "He is young. He doesn't know any better", My dad said.

I remember that my Dad even kept his cool when they came to the door the second time and told us that we must move out so another family could move in. My brother was even more upset than last time but my dad ensured my brother left first. "God will always provide a roof over our heads", Dad told us. This time it was different. This time they didn't take material possessions. They took my mom. They took my mom and there was nothing I could do. Nothing, Nothing, Nothing. My voice was gone. I called out but nothing came out, not a sound. It only took a couple minutes for them to grab her but it felt like hours. I just stood there watching, terrified. They busted the door down and grabbed her; one on each side and one from behind to gag her so she wouldn’t scream. It was the one who gagged her that pushed himself up against her and said, “entertain us and maybe we will let you live.” My mom could not scream because they gagged her, but I was not gagged. I should have been able to scream, but for some reason I could not. I tried hard but I could not. They dragged her out as she kicked and tried to scream. I just stood there frozen. I could not move or speak. I thought about running to kick them. To stop them but my legs felt like they were glued to the ground. Tears started to flow down my cheeks as they closed the door and were gone.

Suddenly my dad appeared in front of me and my voice came back. I let out a loud scream, "They took her." "Who took whom?" My dad asked. "They took Mom", I said. Dad was frantic, he opened the front door to look for her but quickly came back in. "I don't see her", he screamed. He ran from room to room looking for her. "Are you sure they took her outside?" Dad asked. "I saw them take her out the front door", I said. "Why did you not scream or come get us?' Dad yelled. I put my head in my hands. "I am sorry. I tried to scream but nothing came out. I tried to move but my legs were stuck", I said. Dad held me. "It is okay. People react differently in stressful situations. Do you remember anything they said?", Dad asked. "There were three of them. One held each side of her while the other gagged her. I remember one of them said that maybe she would live of she entertained them", I said. "So she is probably still alive", Dad smiled. My brother came over to hold my hand while Dad ran out after her. "I think I know where they took her", Dad said then close the door behind him.

I sat with my brother and waited. Hours passed and Dad was still not home. My brother went to the kitchen and pulled out the food mom was preparing earlier in the day. He heated the oven and placed the food in it to cook. "We have to eat", brother insisted. "I am not hungry", I said, "I want to wait for dad." When the food was done my brother came back over to sit with me. "We will wait together", he said.

Evening turned to night as the sunlight was history. Suddenly the door opened and it was my Dad. "Did you find her?" I asked. "No, but I will continue looking tomorrow", Dad said. "It is all my fault", I said.
"Don't ever think that. It is not your fault. You did all you could in the situation", Dad said. "Except scream", I said. My brother smiled at me. Dad tried many times that night to cheer me up but it didn't work.
July 4 will haunt me all the days of my life. The day I didn't scream.

"Dinner is ready", My brother said. Dad sat at the table and we sat with him. I was not very hungry but I knew I had to eat. I looked at the four chairs then looked over at the kitchen counter. That was where Mom stood when we had dinner. We only had four since they took all our stuff. "I miss you Mom", I thought. I saw my brother glancing at the kitchen counter a couple times too. I am sure he was thinking the same thing.

After dinner, I told them I was tired and went to bed. I didn't sleep though. I kept thinking about my mom. How I didn't scream to save her. After a while I noticed the sun peeking its way through the window and knew I had not slept all night. I opened my bedroom door and went over to the kitchen table for breakfast. There was a strange lady at the table with Dad. "Good morning", the lady said. "Good morning" I said curtsying to be polite. "This is Ruth she is a doctor and is here to help you through this", Dad said. He got up from the table and left us alone to talk. I explained everything to her, how I knew it was my fault. I should have screamed. "One way to get all these feelings out is to write them down", Ruth said. Dad heard her and came back to the table. "I thought this would help. Remember your mom gave it to you", Dad said. I took the book from my dad and said thank you. I looked at the cover. I opened it and read what it said. "This will help you one day. I know. I always kept a journal when I was your age. Love Mom" the inscription said. "I have to go now but I will be back to see you again. In the meantime, try writing your feelings in the journal. We can discuss them when we meet next", Ruth said shaking my hand. My dad shook her hand too and she left. I got up from the chair and sat in the corner to start writing. This is my first entry.