I remember the day when all my uncles came back from the War. I heard the sirens from the mining company go off to let the people know that the buses would be arriving with the soldiers coming home. I was in the kitchen with grandma Andreita. “Tia” Mariana was somewhere in the house when the sirens started to sound off. I remember grandma upon hearing the sirens; “My sons are coming home!” “Gracias a Dios!” She took off her apron and put a new ironed apron and she and Mariana started out the front door and I tagging along running behind them to the northside where the buses were to arrive. There was a lot of people from the Spanish side of town headed to the northside where the grocery stores, the post office, the Sweet Shop and the Hurley Bar and the Catholic Church were. When we got to the main street in front of the post office, the parents, relatives and future wives were there to meet the soldiers as they arrived. As the buses began to pull up and the veterans came off the bus, everyone started hugging and crying tears of joy. Some were unhappy that their sons did not arrive but there were more soldiers coming home soon. All of Grandma’s sons returned.
