Mr. James Farmer, in his G-T letter of June 3, would have had great trouble in the last days of 1941 and early 1942 in San Francisco as the air raid sirens went off.
I watched each section of the city go dark, autos and cable cars stopped, the bridges went dark along with Alcatraz, and people turned off their lights. It was dark and dead silence.
If light creeped out, you had a knock on your door and were issued a fine.
It was war and while some moaned about the next five years of rationing, they knew certain freedoms would have to be modified for a short time to win. There was a saying that “Your unfettered freedom ends at my nose.”
Our ex-president finally declared war on the virus and then left the scene of leadership, costing 250,000 unnecessary deaths.
So don’t wear your mask, Mr. Farmer, and I hope you don’t get COVID-19.
Last week my daughter, two granddaughters and three great-grandchildren got COVID-19. I don’t know where they were exposed. My daughter had her shots; the others didn’t.
Tony Van Vliet