The month turned to May 1945, and local residents, as well as others across the nation, were glued to their radios.
The momentum toward the end of the war was shifting rapidly.
As The Oneonta Star reported on May 2, “The Hamburg Nazi radio said Tuesday night that Adolf Hitler died Tuesday afternoon in Berlin. The official Moscow radio this morning called the German broadcast ‘a new Fascist trick,’ by which, ‘the German Fascists hope to prepare for Hitler the possibility of disappearing from the scene and going to an underground position.’
Locally, “Oneonta heard the report of Hitler’s death yesterday with grim satisfaction, mixed with skepticism. Those questioned said it was ‘big news’ if true, but they wanted more proof of the authenticity of the story.”
Mayor Alexander F. Carson told The Star, “I think the news of Hitler’s death is premature. I would have preferred seeing him brought to trial so that the tragedies which he brought upon the world would again be publicized before the people of every nation so they would not forget.”
The confusion was soon cleared, as Hitler had indeed gone underground into a bunker, where he committed suicide on April 30.
Call it symbolic of a dark time passing, as The Star of May 9 told readers, “The lights went on again last night.
“Show window lighting, outdoor electric advertising signs, outdoor promotional lighting and certain types of outdoor decorative display lighting blacked out since Feb. 1, blazed again last night.
“The ‘brownout’ was revoked immediately after President Harry Truman addressed the nation yesterday morning.
“When the order became effective the nation’s stockpile of coal was low and government officials banned certain types of lighting to conserve the use of coal as well as other fuels used in generating electricity.”
The war was still going strong, but among the sadness and losses to family, came a gentler story that affected Cooperstown.
A story in The Star’s May 22 edition began, “‘Thank you Lord for giving me courage, but please take care of my wife and little daughter.’
“These were the prayers of Gilbert P. Abbott when trapped below decks in the burning aircraft carrier Franklin.
“For days he faced death, but in those three hours when trapped below, it grimly beckoned as minute ticked into minute, as men fought to rescue them, as they fought to save themselves.
“Husband of the former Miss Winifred A. Pier of this village, Abbott, a quartermaster, second class, has been recuperating here. Meanwhile, the battered Franklin, an epic of the sea, is being repaired in the Brooklyn Navy yard to avenge the death and destruction wrought by a lone Japanese bomber March 19.
“Eleven hundred two men are dead, wounded or missing. Abbott was one of the skeleton crew that brought the 27,000-ton Franklin home, wracked as she was by explosions of her own octane gasoline and ammunition.
“Abbott gives credit for his being alive to his buddy, Abraham Barbash of New York City,” who had suggested at the time to have another cigarette just before the ship was hit. “Had he started up the 100-foot ladder to the bridge, he would have been caught exactly in the center of the first bomb blast.
“Son of Mr. and Mrs. Milton W. Abbott of Ellistown (Tioga County), before his marriage in 1942, Abbott was a partner in the Binghamton-Ithaca Motor Express business. His daughter, Judith Lee, was born in Miami, while he was an instructor in the Warner-Robbins Army Depot. Two months later he enlisted in the Navy.
“Getting acquainted with his daughter has occupied much of his time since coming here, as this was only their second meeting. While recuperating, he is staying with his wife’s parents.
“With the Franklin since she was commissioned Jan. 30, 1944, Abbott has served in the American and Asian theaters, and in six major engagements, including two in the Philippines. He was wounded in one of the latter.”
In time, “Ninety-seven members of the crew were decorated…aboard the carrier’s torn and charred flight deck for gallantry and action.”
In another wartime, May 1970 was very unrestful around Oneonta.