My grandmother is British. She was in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force during World War II. That's where she met my grandfather, who was sailing for the British Royal Navy. She was a war bride.

I've read my grandmother's memoirs and she served as a nurse during World War II. What they had to do was incredible.

Just when you think this war has taken everything you loved, you meet someone and realize that somehow you still have more to give.

A not-too-distant explosion shakes the house, the windows rattle in their sockets, and in the next room the class of 1964 wakes up and lets out a yell or two. Each time this happens I find myself thinking, "Is it possible that human beings can continue with this lunacy very much longer?" You know the answer, of course.

Ruth wiped her eyes. Successful at a price? Forgiven but damaged? She wished so much more for her baby sister.

Registration is a World War II response, and we need a 1980 solution.