A large farmhouse and barn stood proud in the middle of rolling fields loaded with growing soybeans. Stately oak trees lined the driveway and protected a fragile budding apple orchard to the side of the barn. A woman with red hair and a full figure knelt at the side of lush kitchen garden filled with various fruits and vegetables ready for picking. The whole visage was a welcome glimpse of paradise away from the horrors that had engulfed the rest of the world in the summer of 1942.

Her dress was typical of the time, a knee-length A-line but in more cheerful colors than the military uniform inspired tones the other women wore. The flour sack dresses of the Great Depression and Dust Bowl era came to mind. For a moment the woman putted around in the garden before a small dog took notice of their visitor and ran off barking down the dusty drive.

The woman's head popped up as shouted to the dog. "Scrappy! I done told you--oh! I'm sorry!" she stood up and dusted off her dress. "My name is Hilda. Did you see my ad in the paper? Are you here to rent a room?"