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Every generation is influenced by their parents. From Baby Boomers (who were largely raised by the Silent Generation) to Gen X (the majority of which were raised by Baby Boomers) to Millennials (raised older Gen X and younger Boomers), their parents left an impact that defined each one. For those raised by the Greatest Generation (those born between 1901 and 1927), their unique upbringings are filled with experiences that are still cherished generations later.

Over on Reddit in a subforum of people born before 1980, member gameboy90 posed the question: "What was it like having a parent who was part of the Greatest Generation (born 1901-1927)?"

Many people raised with parents (and some grandparents) from the Greatest Generation shared their childhood experiences. These are 15 amazing stories from people raised by parents of the Greatest Generation.

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"My folks were born in the late teens/mid-twenties. They met and married during WWII. As a kid growing up in the 1970s, I joked that I was the last kid to be raised in the 1950s, because that's the decade where my parents were really adults and absorbed a lot of their ideas. Neither of them liked to talk much about the past, there wasn't any talk of the depression or the war, but I was told how easy I had it on a fairly regular basis. I was taught to be grateful and how lucky I was. They were fairly distant parents -- I was cared for, but not hovered over in any way. I was regularly kicked out of the house to go entertain myself until the streetlights came on." —localgyro

"One of my parents was part of this cohort and the other parent was just a couple of months too young to technically belong to the Greatest Generation. I heard endless stories about what childhood was like during The Great Depression and the notion of not wasting things was pounded into me. I was taught to not trust the stock market and to not count your chickens before they are hatched. Do people even use that expression anymore?! Both of my parents felt it was important to look one's best in public at all times. I remember my mother wore girdles long after it was fashionable to do so and my father wore undershirts in the hottest of weather." —Woodinvillian


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"My grandparents were greatest generation. Very hardworking. Very stoic. Super secretive. While they weren’t racist, they were prone to using slang like Wop (gpa was Italian) etc. My gma left school in 8th grade to help on the family farm. Gpa made it thru High School and didn’t go to war due to helping the family ice business. Back in the day, they cut ice from the ponds w huge saws and packed it away in sawdust or straw. His brothers went to war though." —apurrfectplace

"I’m not sure you can generalize about a cohort that includes so many millions of people. My parents were born in 24 and 26 and I was born in 52. My father spent WWII In Europe and never would talk much about his experience. My father was a teacher, high school principal and then a college professor. My mother stayed home and raised my brother and I. My parents were hardworking, honest, decent people. They were also progressive, liberal and intellectual and participated in the civil rights marches of the 1960s and later supported my brother and I in our opposition to the Vietnam war." —valisglans

"Both parents were born in the time frame you gave. We are American, and my grandparents were immigrants from Eastern Europe. My father was a WWII infantryman and Purple Heart recipient. He almost never talked about the war, although he did recount his experiences to another family member who was doing a living history project. My Dad apparently lived through some awful times when he served overseas during the war. My mother came from a well to do family, and she never mentioned weathering much hardship during the Great Depression... During these days of Covid-19, I am reminded of my late father’s frugality (which he learned during the Great Depression). I am reminding myself how he never let anything go to waste, and how he would repurpose items around the house, rather than get rid of them if they were at all useful. My parents weren’t hoarders or anything like that (quite the opposite), but they did use items up until they could be used no more. I used to roll my eyes at my dear Dad over that at times, but now of course I see the wisdom in it. My grandparents were all born in the last quarter of the 1800s, and lived through the 1918 pandemic. I wish they were still able to answer my questions about how they survived it, or at least I wish my parents were able to answer my questions regarding my grandparents’ recollections of it." —Hey_Laaady

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"My parents were born in the teens of 1900's. Both to poor, but educated families. Music, art, that sort of thing, that generally pays poorly in good times. But during the depression? Not much at all. Like others in this thread, we were taught to use up everything, don't waste anything. Food was made into leftovers. Clothing was repaired, and passed down from child to child. If we wanted to get rid of something, give it to someone who could use it. Don't leave the lights on. Don't waste water. We also had a vegetable garden, and we kids helped weed it. We snapped and froze beans from it for the winter. We played outside all day in the summer, and came in for supper. Had to be home when the street lights came on. Dad had war stories about WWII which he told often, but never about fighting, but rather about his commanding officer, or something weird that happened. I'm pretty sure he had PTSD, but you bucked up and got on with life. My parents were both really good people. My mother raised us, and my dad 'brought home the bacon'." —sanna43

"Awesome. They loved each other deeply. They loved their siblings, parents, aunts and uncles who we all regularly visited. Mom and Dad were good parents who provided us with love and a good home. Maddening. They were soooooo much older than my friend's parents, still clung to Depression-era frugality, wanted us kids to be independent but NOT IN TROUBLE." —Sunkitteh

"They were the finest people I've ever met: selfless, loving, devoted to family. There will never be another generation like them." —Offthepoint

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"Dad worked a blue collar job and mom was a homemaker. There was always dinner at the dining room table every night. My dad made $85 a week and that was enough to keep a roof over our head and our tummies full. Mom (born 1922) stretched the ground round by putting grated potatoes in it. I don't really remember going without very often. I only remember a pair of shoes I really wanted in the early 70's that we couldn't afford...My dad was born in 1921 and was the strong silent type. Never spoke much nor showed much affection but we knew he loved us. They never fought. I never remember them fighting or hearing them yelling at each other. If there was anything they didn't want us to know they would talk to each other in Spanish. They never taught us girls because we 'didn't need to speak it'. I sure wish they had taught us. Back then it was more about assimilation." —AuntChilada

"Since my folks grew up during the depression, the thriftiness they learned was passed on to us kids. Even in the city, we had a vegetable garden in the 1960s, as well as several fruit bearing trees...We were raised with more discipline than some of our classmates, but less than others. We took responsibility for our actions at early ages and were seen as trouble makers because we didn't deny it when caught red handed." —Swiggy1957

"Lots of great war stories. Lots of lies. Lots of racist beliefs (how come people never mention how racist old people can be?). Generous but highly critical. Intelligent and accomplished. High expectations with little guidance or input. Dad was born in 1913." —aiandi

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"My dad (born 1905 in Buffalo, NY) and my mom (born 1909 in St. Louis, MO) were both children of Polish immigrant parents. My mom graduated from elementary school, but my dad was pulled out of school during his last half of 8th grade so he could go to work at Kutchens Furniture Co. in St. Louis as a woodworker so he could support the family (his dad had died a year earlier). My mom got a job as a seamstress at a clothing company where she worked until she got married. in 1925 my dad obtained employment at Robertson Aircraft Co. at the airport as a mechanic for the air mail airplanes. He became good friends with Charles Lindbergh when Lindbergh was still an air mail pilot. In 1926 he started building his own airplane in his backyard. In 1929, when the stock marked crashed, his airplane was nearly complete. But he had to put a hold on it in order to work crazy hours at Robertson to continue his employment. He and his mother, brother and sister all lived in one house and they raised chickens, rabbits and a vegetable garden in the back yard. Home brewed beer was made along with a concoction of straight grain alcohol colored with tea that they called 'Old Skunk'. The airplane was flown in 1930 but the depression went on, and on and on. Nothing was thrown away since there was always another use for everything. My mom and dad finally met and got married in 1937. A year later I was born and now there were 6 people living in a small 2 bedroom 1 bath house. In 1941 the United States entered the war. My dad was too young for the first world war and too old for the second world war, so he obtained employment with Curtiss-Wright Aircraft Corp. as a loftsman for the wing of the C-46 'Commando' transport aircraft. He remained at Curtiss-Wright until the end of the war. Once married, my mom became the traditional housewife. During my early years we lived like it was still the depression and it was pounded into me on a daily basis. The only good thing that happened during the war years was dad got extra gas ration stamps because he was working in the defense industry. My mom had a foot operated Singer sewing machine that she used for the rest of her life. My dad didn't buy a powered lawn mower - he made one using the motor from a junked motor scooter he found in the junk yard. At dinner time you ate everything on your plate - period! To this day it has been engrained in me - take what you want, but eat what you take. Yes, the Greatest Generation raised a whole different breed of children. When I was growing up, if I needed a whack on my butt I got a whack on my butt. Maybe two whacks! And my teachers could do it too. If the teachers did that today it would be on the 5 o'clock news." —55pilot

"My parents were born in the 1920's. My father was drafted in 1944. He waited out the war in the Philippines. He didn't say much about it. Only that he saw awful things and war is really, really bad. After the war he worked for USPS and met my mother. They moved to NJ and raised 6 kids on a working class salary. My parents were both strict Catholics. It wasn't a very demonstrative relationship. They put a roof over our heads and fed us so we needed to STFU and clean our rooms. My mother was kinder; my father was distant and withdrawn. There was a huge generation gap. They adored clean-cut American entertainment: broadway musicals, Johnny Mathis, Perry Como, etc. Meanwhile, us 60's and 70's kids were all about Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin. It caused tension. Once we became teens, us boys all grew our hair long. The folks HATED it, but they allowed it because we made a big deal over it and it was the trend at the time. My parents never drank and never used foul language. Cursing was forbidden in the house. Even 'damn' was retconned to 'darn'. Period. No exceptions. Discussions about sex (or indulging in any measure of explicit material) was also utterly forbidden." —CitizenTed

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"My father was born in 26. My mother is a bit too young to meet this criteria. But they were both frugal people. My mother was a bit more sympathetic about it. 'Do you need it, or do you just want it?' My father was more dismissive, in a half joking, half mocking manner: 'you need that like you need a hole in the head', 'I wouldn't kick a dead dog for a truckload of (whatever it was I wanted)', alternatively he 'wouldn't sign his name for a boatload'. If I wanted to see a movie or a concert, he 'wouldn't walk from here to the corner (to see them, even) if they paid him.' At least he was amusing. Last week, he told me about something that would 'hare lip Santa Claus', and I still don't know what that means...My father grew up on a farm. As a boy, he plowed with a mule, and used a carved cypress knee to make holes for the seeds. The old plow was still in storage when I was growing up, and was always more fun for me to climb on and play than the old tractors were. My father says that at school, instead of each kid bringing their own lunch, each person would bring something to add to a pot of soup. I don't know if that was everyday, though. My grandmother had a large garden and also did home baking and canning to sell at the farmer's market. The better stuff always got sold. One of my aunts said they never got any cookies that hadn't burnt. 😕 My father served at the tail end of WW2, in the Pacific." —MetalSeagull

"My parents married after the second world war. My mother had been engaged and her fiancé was killed overseas. They were pretty old for their generation to be getting married. Born in 1919 and 1918 they married in 1950. Being good Catholics they then started having babies. My mother lost four of the pregnancies late term and had four babies eventually. I was born when she was 40 and my younger brother when she was 47 because of the pregnancies and recovery from them. My mother became a teacher and my dad was a draftsman. They never had a mortgage, paid cash for their cars and ALWAYS had a ton of tinned food. If I wanted a ham and cheese sandwich my mother would say no because that was two meals. Ham sandwich and a cheese sandwich. I don't think either of them ever missed a day of work for anything less than a heart attack. Seriously. They just got up every morning and did what the rules said they should do. My dad was an enormously talented man with an incredible intellect and my mother was artistic and romantic. I feel that with the war, service and losses they never got the chance to experience self expression like they may have wanted to. Duty to God and family. They both died young at 61 and 67." —Rosiebelleann

Education

How Germany's 'Master Interrogator' relied on kindness and empathy during WWII

Hanns Scharff's methods were so effective they were adopted by the FBI.

Credit: Sony

Flattery really will get you everywhere.

Imagine it’s WWII. You’re an American fighter pilot (thank you for your service) and a prisoner of war (eek).

Your interrogator walks in, and instantly your mind begins to prepare you for the torture that lies ahead. Will you be kicked, whipped and beaten? Forced to stand for hours on end until you give the enemy crucial intel? The anticipation alone is excruciating.

Suddenly, your interrogator says, “What would you like for lunch?”

This would be your treatment if questioned under Hanns-Joachim Gottlob Scharff, “Master Interrogator” of Germany’s Luftwaffe branch, who’s unconventional techniques surprisingly reveal the power of kindness.

Scharff never sought out a military career, but a series of seemingly fated events led him to one nonetheless.

A businessman at the time, Scharff had been vacationing in Germany in 1939 when the war broke out and he was forcibly drafted into the army. His wife would help him avoid fighting on the front lines by vying for him to work as an interpreter.

It wouldn’t be long before Scharff would unintentionally move up the ranks. After two of his superiors died in a plane crash, he landed the position of lead interrogator.

Unlike his peers and predecessors, Scharff was opposed to obtaining information through physical or psychological abuse. Instead, he relied upon friendliness and empathy. He regularly took prisoners out to lunch and on luxurious nature walks, and he even offered them baked goods made by his wife. It was essentially more of a wooing than an interrogation.

In addition to the friendly approach, Scharff would also never press for information and perpetuated an illusion of knowing all the information already (which included acting unsurprised whenever a prisoner might reveal new intel). The last component of his strategy involved casually presenting a claim to see if the prisoner would confirm or deny it, otherwise known as the confirmation/disconfirmation tactic.

All these tricks proved incredibly effective. Not only was Scharrf highly successful at getting information (one prisoner famously remarked that he "could get a confession of infidelity from a nun”) he also managed to save the lives of multiple American pilots in the process. He even remained friends with one after the war.

His methods were so successful that following WWII, he was invited to give lectures in America, and he became a major influence on U.S. interrogation techniques.

One last fun fact: America is where Scharff would end up retiring, where he would take up creating mosaics—a passion he once had as a young boy. If you ever find yourself at Cinderella's Castle in Walt Disney World, you might find one of his works.

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Scharff clearly had many talents.

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Not in Florida anytime soon? You can also find some of his work at the California State Capitol building, Los Angeles City Hall, and several American universities like Dixie College in Utah and the University of Southern California campus.

You know what they say—you catch more bees with honey than you do with vinegar. Getting the desired result from another person is often more easily achieved by being kind and understanding, both in times of war and in everyday life.

Education

Only one foreign pilot has ever bombed the U.S. mainland. His redemption arc is epic.

An Oregon town he tried to destroy in WWII even made him an honorary citizen.

Courtesy of Chetco County Community Library

Nobuo Fujita was a Japanese naval pilot in WWII.

About 16 miles east of Brookings, Oregon, stands a unique coastal redwood tree. It has been growing there since 1992, when the Japanese pilot who had dropped bombs on that very spot 50 years before planted it with his own hands.

Nobuo Fujita remains to this day the only foreign pilot to ever bomb the U.S. mainland. On September 9, 1942, Fujita flew a seaplane, launched from a floating catapult on a Japanese submarine in the Pacific, over the woodlands of southern Oregon. Along with the 30-year-old pilot and the bombs he was ordered to drop, the aircraft also carried a 400-year-old samurai sword—a prized family heirloom Fujita took with him on every flight.

Fujita was a bit disappointed with this bombing mission. He had wanted to bomb San Francisco or Los Angeles to take revenge on the U.S. for dropping bombs on targets in Tokyo, Yokohama, Yokosuka, Nagoya and Kobe in the Doolittle Raid just a few months before. Instead, this mission was to use incendary bombs to start a forest fire that would engulf nearby towns like Brookings, divert resources and instill terror into the hearts of U.S. citizens.


But as anyone who has gone camping on the Oregon Coast can attest, starting a fire there isn't easy, especially just after it has rained. The bombs Fujita deployed basically fizzled after hitting the ground, only starting small fires and creating enough smoke for the forest service to see them and act quickly to snuff them out.

Fujita returned home to train other pilots, and three years later, World War II ended after the U.S. dropped atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

War and forgiveness make strange bedfellows, but they always seem to find one another eventually. And for Fujita and the town of Brookings, "eventually" came in a fairly swift and dramatic fashion.

In 1962, less than 20 years after the war ended, a group of Jaycees in Brookings had the idea to invite Fujita and his family to be an honored guest at the town's Azalea Festival as an act of goodwill and reconciliation. Not everyone was thrilled with this idea, however. Townspeople argued bitterly over it. Over 100 residents signed onto an op-ed opposing the idea, which read in part, "Why stop with Fujita? Why not assemble the ashes of Judas Iscariot, the corpse of Atilla the Hun, a shovel full of dirt from the spot where Hitler died…." For many, it probably have felt too soon, especially since many of the town's citizens had fought in the war.

But the Jaycees were undeterred and admant that it was the right thing to do.

For his part, Fujita was worried he might be attacked, pelted with eggs or even put on trial for war crimes after he arrived, and he was prepared to end his life with his samurai sword if it came down to it. Instead, the day after he and his wife and son arrived in Brookings and found a warm welcome, Fujita presented his precious family heirloom to the city as a peace offering.

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Nobuo Fujita gifted Brookings, Oregon, his family's 400-year-old samurai sword as a peace offering.

Photo courtesy of Chetco County Community Library

Brenda Jacques, a retired reference librarian, told Oregon Public Broadcasting about the significance of that Fujita giving the city his sword. "Would I be able to give something that had been that important to my family away?" she said. "It was a tremendous act of contrition."

Fujita was presented with a key to the city and was given the opportunity to fly a plane over the bombing site. But the mutual goodwill didn't end there.

Nobuo and Akayo Fujita

Nobuo Fujita and his wife Akayo standing in front of an azalea bush in Oregon

Photo courtesy of Chetco County Community Library

Fujita would spend the rest of his life nurturing a friendship with the Oregon town he had once tried to burn to the ground. He and his employees donated thousands of dollars for a multicultural book collection at the Chetco County Community Public Library in Brookings. He organized a group of high school students to come to Japan for a cultural exchange.

In 1992, Fujita returned to Brookings and planted the coastal redwood tree—which he called "a symbol of friendship and peace"—where he had dropped bombs five decades before.

Just a few days before his death in 1997, the city of Brookings made Nobuo Fujita an honorary citizen.

The following year, his daughter came to fulfill his last request—to have some of his ashes buried at the bombing site.

Nobuo Fujita's story is a moving reminder that the people charged with killing and terrorizing one another in wartime are never truly enemies, and that we all have the potential to be peacemakers if we choose to.

And hopefully, stories like this one will help humanity learn to avoid the war part altogether and jump straight to the goodwill and sharing of friendship across cultures part that we all love to see.

Photo by Pixabay/Pexels

Train tracks leading into Auschwitz-Birkenau, the largest Nazi death camp.

Kanye West (who has legally changed his name to Ye) has been making headlines—again—not only for his bizarre public behavior, but for blatantly antisemitic remarks he made in recent interviews.

There's no question that Ye's comments praising Hitler and Nazis and denying that 6 million Jews were killed in the Holocaust are hurtful and dangerous. There's no question that bad actors are using Ye's antisemitic comments to push their white nationalist agenda. The question is whether Ye fans would allow their admiration of his musical talents—or whatever else they like about him—to overshadow the fact that he is now regularly spewing pro-Nazi rhetoric to millions of people.

In at least one corner of the internet, fans are responding in what may be the most effective and meaningful way possible—by countering Ye's commentary with a deluge of Holocaust education and remembrance.


Reddit's r/kanye subreddit is a page dedicated to discussing all things Ye, and it currently has more than 700,000 members. After Ye's interviews on Tim Pool's podcast and Alex Jones' Infowars this past week, in which he spoke of loving Hitler and Nazis while complaining of being wronged by Jews, members began flooding the forum with posts about people who fought the Nazis in World War II, information about the victims of the Holocaust and remembrances of those who were murdered in the genocide.

It was a heartening response to Ye's horrific views, and especially powerful coming from people who consider (or considered) themselves huge fans of the artist.

One example is this post of a photo showing emaciated prisoners of Buchenwald concentration camp with a quote from Ye's Infowars appearance, in which he said, "I don't like the word 'evil' next to Nazis."

from Kanye

Another poster shared a photo of three survivors of Auschwitz, the largest Nazi death camp, showing the tattoos of their prison camp numbers on their forearms.

from Kanye

Another shared a photo of the "Book of Names" at Auschwitz-Birkenau, where the names of those murdered in the Holocaust are written.

from Kanye

Dozens of posts shared in the subreddit include photos of Jewish children who had their childhoods destroyed, people who suffered in concentration camps, heroes of the Holocaust who helped saved lives and more. Judging from the posts and comments, there appears to be widespread agreement on the subreddit that Ye's antisemitism must be condemned in the strongest terms and that people need to know that his statements about the Holocaust are wrong.

"This is officially a Holocaust awareness sub," wrote one poster who shared an infographic about how many young people are woefully uninformed about that piece of human history.

The transformation of the subreddit is a testament to the power of social media. Though misinformation spreads fast and social media can easily become a cesspool of toxicity, when people use it for good it can be a place where reasonable, righteous voices rise to the top.

It's certainly sad and frustrating for folks who have felt a connection with Ye's music to witness him spiraling further and further into bigoted madness. Feeling the need to speak out against someone who has been a positive force in your life isn't a comfortable spot to be in. But there are views that are unconscionable and messages that simply cannot be tolerated, and Ye's remarks egregiously cross both of those lines.

Fandom doesn't mean fanaticism and no reasonable person can possibly defend the antisemitism Ye is pushing. (Heck, some of the most unreasonable people aren't even trying to defend it.) Whatever his mental health situation may be, attacking Jews and supporting Nazis is wrong and harmful and needs to be named as such.

Simply calling it out isn't enough, though, when falsehoods flow freely. Sharing accurate education about the Holocaust so that people can gain a deeper understanding of the scale and systemization of the world's largest genocide is one way to not just call out antisemitism but to battle it with truth. The Holocaust carried out by Hitler and the Nazis is a historical reality no one should remain ignorant of and no one should get a pass for denying, no matter how famous or once beloved they may be.