The 1940's and 50's Movie, Radio and More

Don Winslow of the Navy at the movies...…., the Lone Ranger, and the shadow, on the radio. Three of my favorite pastimes in Wilmington NC, From just before my first grade in school to the end of my third year. My Dad worked long hard hours in the shipyard in Wilmington, NC, back in 1942.....on until early 1947. Our house was only one block from the ship yard in Maffit Village, a neighborhood adjacent to the ship building site which blossomed into some five thousand homes just overnight. The Navy had a goal for it to put out a certain number of ships, and they always made their goal. We had moved down from the cotton mill town of King's Mountain, NC. Which was named after small hill about nine miles away where the British lost a bid to own the United State to just a handful of farmers and local Professional militia. The tide was heading in the favor of the British when a miscalculated shot from one of his own men, Shot Gen. Ferguson from his horse, dead. He was struck in the head. Thus I like to think that God ended the fight in his own time, in his own way. Mom had be making 5 cents an hour and dad made 7. We moved to Wilmington in 1942. Pearl was bombed in 43 and almost four years until it was all over, due to, The first two A bombs, Fat man and Little Boy. They immediately killed 300, 000 people, but later fallout and other complications due to radiation brought the total to about 800,000 people. Now, I'm getting these figures off the top of my head so if you look up and find me wrong, please do not bash me. It was a horrendous number of dead and devastated lives.. I would not want to face my Maker with that decision in my repertoire. While there we passed time at a strip mall about 12 miles toward the strand, which was actually right on the strand. There were drug stores, groceries, two movie houses. Then located sort of closer to the ocean, but down always from the end was a German concentration camp. My brother and I would go out back with our goodies and watch the Germans. I was 8 and my younger brother was 4 and were back there one day watching the Germans, and my brother who was not scared of the devil himself, went running out to the Germans and handed one of them his candy. The man took a polite bite, said Danka, which means thank you in German, and little Reggie just hightailed it right back grinning. We remained in Wilmington until about 1938 until just after my second brother was born. Me and Reggie were farmed out to Sharon NC, way up in the Appalachian Mountains. I have many writes about that trip. Lord what an experience, but no time to go into here. If you would like to hear a little more of it give me a tweet. I'll oblige. This is Charles Grady Henderson, signing off for a short, short.