In Remembrance
I peered through the glass in the dim room, into the makeshift headquarters from which Winston Churchill had conducted the affairs of his nation during WWII. The tables and chairs and maps, virtually untouched since they had been abandoned immediately after the war, looked as if at any minute Churchill and his advisors would return to discuss the latest movements of enemy troops. I continued down the hall, gazing somberly into makeshift bedrooms, allowing officials and military leaders and secretaries to remain on-call 24/7. The low ceilings and dimly lit rooms still exuded fear and tension. Stepping through them now, I suddenly felt the gut-wrenching fear and uncertainty that had gripped London decades before I was born. Each pin on the map signaled thousands of lives—thousands of mothers’ prayers, thousands of sleepless nights as young men dreamed of home. The uncertainty these soldiers and leaders felt weighed on my soul....