Speaking of Brooklyn... what about Ebbets Field

There's little doubt that Ebbets Field was the center of my universe during the early 1950s. It was the place where Gil, Duke, Pee Wee, and Roy lived. On or near my birthday each year, my father and mother would take me (and my sister) to see the Dodgers play the Giants at Ebbets Field. Through all of the cheering and bustle, there was a wonderful peacefulness. It's hard to explain. The grass was greener than any other on earth and the clay was red in contrast to the brown infield that I played on at home. My mother loved Gil Hodges and my father loved to give the umpires a hard time. We ate hot dogs and peanuts and threw the shells on the ground.

Ebbets Field was simply the best place on earth.

How do we say 'Thank You?'

I don't remember the actual day, but August 14, 1945 was 'V-J Day,' and my first birthday. My parents told me how they took me to the roof of our Bay Ridge, Brooklyn apartment to cheer the troops on the ships in NY harbor. My father said it was a day to celebrate, give thanks and remember - Americans were celebrating the victory of good over evil; giving thanks to the 11 million sons and daughters who served during the war and remembering the more than 273,000 Americans who died.

Why is it so hard for people today to understand that all that we have, especially our freedom, is a result of the sacrifice of these wonderful Americans.