As word reached America 75 years ago that World War II was ending, the streets erupted with joy. Tens of millions celebrated the Allied triumph over evil.
That was then. This is now. In the summer of 2020, parts of our nation have seemed like urban battlefields. Angry groups pour onto city streets declaring that America is wicked and that our current system must be dismantled.
Throughout the V-J celebration, strangers hugged each other as the town square exploded with cheers of relief. When the Japanese surrendered on Sept. 2, 1945, it culminated four years of enormous sacrifice at home and abroad. More than 16 million served in uniform, and 400,000 of them perished.
Today, strangers accost diners at restaurants and assault nearby pedestrians and motorists. Innocent individuals are suddenly thrust into unwanted confrontations.
Decades ago, the Axis regimes sought the end of the United States. Now, agitators in our nation have openly expressed a similar goal. We have met the enemy, and sometimes, it is us.
Our current unrest stands in stark contrast to the collective mindset in 1945 when former British Prime Minister Winston Churchill said, “America, at this moment, stands at the summit of the world.”
Blood, toil, tears, and sweat earned that position. In his landmark book The Greatest Generation, author Tom Brokaw described the everyday architects of America’s success: “These men and women came of age in the Great Depression, when economic despair hovered over the land like a plague. They had watched their parents lose their businesses, their farms, their jobs, their hopes. … Then, just as there was a glimmer of economic recovery, war exploded across Europe and Asia. … They gave up their place on the assembly lines in Detroit and in the ranks of Wall Street, they quit school or went from cap and gown directly into uniform.”
After all that hardship, they came home and went back to work without complaint. Their determination propelled the nation to prosperity. Between 1945 and 1960, the gross national product jumped from $200 billion to more than $500 billion.
The growing middle class enjoyed low unemployment, high wages, and plenty of modest, inexpensive housing. The GI Bill subsidized low-cost mortgages and helped millions get a higher education. Thousands of suburban streets popped up on the landscape. Before long, homeowners on those streets were also driving on a new interstate highway system.
Despite all these advances, some baby boomers became disillusioned and led protests in the 1960s. The angry voices on today’s streets belong to the grandchildren and great-grandchildren of the Greatest Generation. Why are the attitudes so different?
Former Virginia Sen. John Warner, now 93, provides some insights. He says the Great Depression and World War II provided the lessons he needed to endure: discipline, responsibility, humility, and loyalty.
Those four attributes, abundant in Warner’s generation, are less evident today. Discipline is lacking among those who loot and destroy. While the First Amendment protects freedom of speech and assembly, it doesn’t include ruining property or infringing on the rights of others.
In our entitlement culture, blaming the system is convenient. It’s harder to accept responsibility for one’s own actions and choices. Ripping something apart is easy, but building can be hard.
Every era features young adults seeking change. But earlier generations have some wisdom to offer. Arrogance is toxic. Humility offers the option of learning from those who came before.
On this 75th anniversary, we should do more than honor the remaining World War II veterans. We ought to follow their example to solve some of our 21st-century problems.
Instead of hating our country so much, the young might find room to be loyal to this land of opportunity. Perhaps they could assist a neighbor, volunteer at a community center, or deliver groceries to a senior. They might not change the universe, but improving a corner of the world is better than burning it down.
The place to start is on the street where they live. By walking in the footsteps of others, they might see the value of lowering fists and lending a helping hand. If enough young people took the road less traveled, perhaps they could be another great generation.
Kendall Wingrove is a freelance writer from Okemos, Michigan.
