Deborah Kerr FACED DEATH - ALONE It was a sunny  day in London back in 1944 when Deborah Kerr got out of a cab on Regent Street, and headed for Selfridge's department store.  Suddenly the air raid alert sounded. Frantically she looked around for a "S H E L T E R" sign, but couldn't find any. And then she heard it ~~ the putt-putt of the dreaded V-1. It sounded like a malfunctioning model  A  engine as it droned closer and closer. She knew she was safe as long as she heard the noise. As soon as the motor cut out, it would be just moments till it hit ~~ and no one knew where. She raced across the street toward a big office building. Out of an impulse she threw herself into the entrance of a store, her face pressed on the ground, her hands automatically covering her neck. And then she waited. It seemed like an eternity. Deborah was thinking of her family, her friends. How awful, she thought, to die here, all alone. The happiest moments of her life flashed by and the saddest.  And both were worth remembering, worth continuing. If only she could share them now, with anyone who cared.
If only . . .
And then the buzz stopped and she knew it would be just a matter of seconds . . .
Yet it took an eternity before she heard the splintering crash. Tensely she waited, then got up, brushed the dirt off her clothes, and stepped out into the sunlight. Moments later she heard the fire engine and looked in the direction of the smoke. She briefly glanced back to where she'd been ~~ in a doorway surrounded by plate glass ! If the bomb had hit any closer, she might have been killed, or at leased badly cut by flying glass. And then she noticed other people with the same look in their eyes, people who seconds before must have been as lonely as she had been, but who were swallowed up in the crowds again as she would be, to continue their lives as if nothing had happened.