A short time ago, I had occasion to go into the beautifully restored Wells Fargo Bank branch in downtown Napa, on the corner of Second and Main streets.

As I looked around the ornate interior and the layout of the large room, I noted that the bank of today looked much the same as it did when I first went into it in the early 1940s. It was in that very room that I opened my first savings account in (probably) 1944, when it was a branch of the Bank of America.

That bank, or actually one of the window ledges outside the Main Street entrance of the bank, was where I helped celebrate a momentous occasion that took place some 62 years and 362 days ago. On Aug. 14, 1945, I was sitting on that ledge watching the citizens of Napa celebrate the end of World War II. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Our country entered World War II on Dec. 7, 1941. For four years and eight months, our gallant fighting forces and those of our allies fought against enemy forces all over the world. Those of us at home did everything we could to support the war effort.

Finally, on Aug. 14, 1945,, the day we had all been praying for arrived.

On that day, V-J Day (Victory Over Japan Day), our last remaining enemy, the Empire of Japan, announced its unconditional surrender. (Germany had surrendered three months earlier, on May 8, 1945, on what has come to be known as V-E Day — Victory in Europe Day).

On V-J Day, I was a 15-year-old enjoying summer vacation between the ninth and 10th grades. I was looking forward to my sophomore year at Napa Union High School.

It was early afternoon on a nice and warm August day, and I had finished working for the day at the Napa Post Office on Second Street. My good buddy Earl Randol (who would later become sheriff of Napa County) and I had met downtown and were trying to figure out what to do for the rest of the day when car horns started honking and people started running up and down the street yelling “The war is over!”

We couldn’t believe it could be over, because it seemed like it had been going on for most of our lifetime.

Earl and I figured that most of the celebrating would be on Main Street because that was where most of the bars in town were located. So we went to the corner of Second and Main to see what was going on. By then, people were beginning to gather on the street, hugging, shaking hands and slapping each other on the back. To get a better view of things, we decided to climb up on the bank’s window ledge. For the next couple of hours, we had the best seats in town.

Within an hour of the first excitement, the sidewalks on Main Street between First and Third streets were crowded with people. A parade of cars was circling counter-clockwise around the block — north on Main, left on First, left on Brown, left on Third, left on Main, and then they would do it again. They were honking their horns all of the way around the block. Many of the cars were full of people, and guys were riding on the fenders and the running boards.

(For those too young to remember, fenders were bolted onto the car body and covered the four wheels. They were great to sit on. Running boards, long, narrow steps mounted below the doors on both sides, were connected to the front and rear fenders and were great to stand on.)

While the parade of cars went around and around, people carrying their beers began to come out of the bars and join the celebration. Main Street soon became clogged with pedestrians and cars and the sound of horns was very loud. As they say nowadays, “It was a blast.” The looks on people’s faces were of pure joy.

Earl and I sat on that window ledge a long time, until the activity began to slow and it became early evening. We then separated and started heading for home knowing that the world was, finally, at peace — at least for a little while.

During my recent visit to the bank, I began reflecting on that experience and I felt compelled to mention it to the nice young man that was waiting on me. I said something like, “You know, some 63 years ago, as a teenager, I was sitting on that ledge outside that window watching the people celebrate on the day that World War II ended.”

The young man looked up and said something like, “Oh, that’s interesting.” Then he went back to what he was doing. I guess you had to have been there on that great day to appreciate my experience.

“Napa As It Was” appears every other Monday, alternating in this space with Betty Rhodes’ Senior Corner.