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A dusty newspaper discovered in an Alexandria basement nearly 40 years ago has endured as a striking link between one family’s military past and a perilous moment in World War II.
The paper surfaced after my grandmother died in the mid-1980s. Nearby relatives and I were clearing her house just outside Old Town Alexandria before it was sold, sorting through closets filled with reminders of my family’s deep military ties.
My grandfather had been a Navy admiral, and military memorabilia seemed to touch nearly everything in the house. In a musty basement closet, however, I found an artifact no one had intended to preserve.
An old newspaper had been spread across a shelf beneath some glassware. After brushing away the dust, I saw its enormous headline: “250,000 NAZI CHUTISTS PERIL EGYPT.”
It was the June 23, 1942, edition of The San Diego Union, saved from my grandparents’ previous home in California. Other relatives wondered why I wanted it, but I tucked it away.
The date gave the paper special significance. Germany still had momentum, the United States was fighting in Europe and the Pacific, rationing affected daily life, and Americans were dying overseas. My grandfather had been an officer aboard a ship at Pearl Harbor when it was attacked six months earlier. The family subsequently moved to San Diego and relied on the local paper for news.
Nearly every item on the front page concerned the war. Reports described paratroopers in Italy, Royal Air Force attacks against forces led by German Gen. Erwin Rommel, Japanese shells reaching Oregon and fighting on the Russian front. One account cited a figure of 10 million German deaths.
A photograph showed an Army officer speaking with two Oregon children after an enemy submarine fired a shell near their home. Three-year-old Donna Jean Heffling was pictured handing Col. Carl S. Doney a fragment as her 9-year-old sister, Jean, watched. The image freezes one frightening childhood moment, while leaving unanswered what became of the sisters afterward.
The paper also captures how dramatically newspapers have changed. A daily copy then cost 5 cents, while the Sunday edition sold for 10 cents. Its writing, design and presentation belong unmistakably to another era.
Since finding it, I have carried the front page through several moves and displayed it on office walls in multiple locations. It remains world history, family history and newspaper history preserved in a single fragile object.
The newspaper itself also survived, though under a changed name. After a merger with The Tribune, the San Diego daily became The San Diego Union-Tribune—a notable continuation in an era when many local newspapers have disappeared.