I spent the summer of 1943 on a farm owned by my parents in Parkville, Mich. Mother loved movies, so on many a Friday afternoon mom, my sister Vera and I would trek over to highway M60 and wait to wave down the Detroit to Chicago Greyhound bus. It took us to Three Rivers, Mich., which had a movie theater. As soon as the movie ended, we’d walk to a restaurant where the Chicago to Detroit Greyhound passengers were enjoying a rest stop. The driver agreed to take us to the road which led to Parkville, Mich. Mom always found a way to watch a movie.
Chetniks, trust and more
By Myron B. Kuropas5 Mins ReadUpdated: