Chapter 3
Mid-December, 1941
The children had always loved the lights downtown. It was sort of a custom, when out at night, for Father to drive up and down Fulton, the main street, very, very slowly. While Mother and Sara studied the brightly lit display windows of the larger stores, Elaine and Billy enjoyed the brightly colored neon lights. A large number of these neon signs made pictures—some even blinked, tricking the eye into seeing movement. Billy’s favorites were the red fire truck, blue car, and yellow tractor that took turns running across the wall above the window of the toy store. Elaine’s favorite was the sign in front of the fur store. On it, a red fox ran up the sign and disappeared, only to magically reappear at the bottom.
“Dragging the Main”, as this custom was called, was especially nice at Christmastime, when every streetlight pole was decorated with tinsel and lights and the display windows had special scenes in them. As far back as Elaine could remember, those lights had signaled to her that Christmas was near.
But this year there were no lights. Dark were the Christmas lights, the neon signs, the shop window lights, even the light on the courthouse dome. Off, too, were the lights in the rest of the city, the streetlights, the Christmas decorations, even the neighborhood porch lights. The top of the Tower Theater, just two blocks from the Wests’ home, went dark. From their porch, they had been able to see the last few feet of its elongated, three-sided tower with the starburst on top, dazzling over the dark shapes of the neighbor’s houses. Before Pearl Harbor, the tower had been lighted with every color of the rainbow, each blinking in turn, while the starburst was a golden orb with rays of differing lengths flashing into the night. But now it was dark. Only the traffic lights remained, and they had been fitted with shades so their light, feeble as it was, could not be seen from the air. The whole city was hiding in the dark. The darkness frightened Elaine. The adults thought the Japanese might bomb Fresno, just like they’d bombed Pearl Harbor.
In Fresno, even grownups like Father seemed to be very afraid. Would California be next? Elaine did not understand how the war had managed to leap the ocean and threaten her. Was Fresno in real danger of being bombed? ….
Early one evening, Elaine was in the kitchen with Mother, helping her prepare dinner. Usually, this was Sara’s job, but today was Friday and Sara was staying late at school for some reason. As Mother rolled dough for biscuits, Elaine asked: “Do you think we’ll be bombed? Here in Fresno”
“Probably not,” Mother replied, “but maybe. Either way, we should be as prepared as possible.”
“But why? Fresno’s not a naval base.”
“No, but it’s an airbase, a railroad hub, and an electrical power center. Besides, airplanes have to drop their bombs somewhere before they can fly back to their carriers. If the pilots can’t find San Francisco, Oakland, or Alameda because of the fog, then Fresno will be their target.”
“Can’t we keep the carriers away?”