Jennifer McMullen, 101, worked night shifts as a riveter at a California Lockheed plant during World War II, aiming to help bring her brothers home. Now, as the New Orleans site prepares to host 31 real-life “Rosie the Riveters” for the 2026 American Spirit Aw
When Jennifer McMullen walked into her night shift at a California Lockheed factory, she didn’t describe it as history in the making. She described it as a job—something she could do so her family could survive the war.
“I worked the night shift,” the 101-year-old told a video call from her home in Whittier, California, with her son Tim by her side. She was 18. “I was 18 and I lived on my own, and I felt like I was contributing to getting my brothers home.”
Her brothers both did come home safely, “thankfully,” she said. And when the calendar turns toward early June. her memories will be part of a broader national spotlight: the National World War II Museum’s New Orleans site will host 31 real-life “Rosie the Riveters” at its 2026 American Spirit Awards June 4–6. June 6 will also mark the 82nd anniversary of D-Day. the Allied invasion of Normandy. France. that helped turn the tide of the war in Europe.
McMullen’s life sits inside the symbol Americans still repeat—“Rosie the Riveter”—but what she carried into that factory was personal. It was the conviction that her work mattered, even when the world demanded everything else.
Song, slogan, and a workplace reality
“Rosie the Riveter” began as a song, the Library of Congress says on its website. At 19, Rosalind Walker worked as a riveter at an aircraft manufacturer in Connecticut, and two songwriters—taking inspiration from a newspaper account of her work—penned the song “Rosie the Riveter.”
The idea spread quickly. Rosie became a symbol for women who went to factories and manufacturing facilities to support the war effort. Two images helped solidify the modern picture of Rosie: a Saturday Evening Post cover by famed artist Norman Rockwell showing a woman in dungarees holding a sandwich and wearing goggles with a riveting gun resting on her lap. and J. Howard Miller’s illustration of a woman flexing her arm with the slogan “We Can Do It.”.
For McMullen and other wartime workers, the symbol matched a real shift in the workforce. But it also hid something messier—how hard it could be to step into men’s jobs.
Women weren’t welcomed everywhere. They were expected to prove it.
Kim Guise. senior curator and director for curatorial affairs at the World War II Museum. described a common misconception: that women smoothly replaced men once those men left for battle. “Women were filling jobs left by men who were in the military. but there were still men working alongside them. ” Guise said.
In her account, the change wasn’t automatic. “Women were stepping into the workforce, many for the first time, and they were learning new skills, learning trades, and the men they worked with were sometimes OK with working alongside women.”
But not always. Guise added that sometimes the men “were not OK with women doing what until then had been viewed as men’s work.”
“They had to prove themselves,” she said. “They were not immediately always welcomed with open arms even as they were fulfilling an essential role.”
The women did prove themselves—in welders and riveters, assembly line work, and other roles that kept production moving. Guise said the pride was consistent among the women she interviewed. “There was a lot of pride in that,” she said. “And that was something I heard over and over again from the women I talked with: They are still very proud of what they did. what they learned and all of their contributions to the war effort.”.
That “proving” was not abstract for McMullen. It was the physical reality of turning out parts under pressure, with secrecy built into the workspace.
Camouflage tarps, shared apartments, and long weeks
Jennifer Conaway—McMullen’s younger name—was born on her grandfather’s Ohio farm in 1924. Her family traced its American roots back to the 1600s. As a child, she recalled moving frequently and her family “scrimping and scraping by” during the Great Depression.
After graduating high school, she worked as a legal secretary. Her family later moved to Arizona for her father’s health.
At 19, she met a young airman stationed at a nearby airfield. They began dating. He told her, “You’d be good together,” and often spoke about his younger brother.
In 1944, a friend offered her an opportunity to meet Gene Kelly. She traveled to California and liked it enough to stay. She found a job at a Lockheed aircraft factory.
That work came with layers of concealment. Conaway recalled that the entire area was covered by a tarp—painted with houses, trees, and other fixtures of the suburbs—meant to hide the factory from possible enemy surveillance or targeting.
She shared a small apartment with friends, with day-shifters and night-shifters alternating in twin beds. Workers traded rides from coworkers, she said. “We all worked seven days a week.”
For safety, all the women had to wear a scarf over their hair, similar to the one shown in the iconic “Rosie the Riveter” image. They worked on planes in sections. Secrecy mattered so much that they never saw the planes in their entirety.
Later, McMullen learned she had worked on the Lockheed XP-58 Chain Lightning, a long-range fighter plane intended to improve on the P-38 Lightning.
When the war ended in 1945, Conaway remembered being in Los Angeles “amongst all the hugging and kissing that you see depicted in photos of that time,” taking part in the relief after years of brutal conflict.
Love, distance, and the timeline of return
Mel McMullen, the younger brother she had heard about during the dating period, returned from Asia later in 1944. Within six weeks, Mel and Jennifer were engaged.
Her friend and roommate hit it off with the older brother. Both couples held a double wedding at Fort Douglas Air Force Base in Salt Lake City on May 13, 1946.
McMullen has said that she and her husband will celebrate their 80th wedding anniversary at the National World War II Museum in New Orleans as the museum’s 2026 American Spirit Awards run June 4–6. For June 6, the D-Day anniversary remains central—an invitation to remember how quickly production, sacrifice, and risk became intertwined.
A homefront effort scaled to an all-out war
Guise connected women’s work to the larger industrial reality. She said that without women’s contributions. “the war would not have gone the Allies’ way.” She pointed to numbers: more than 6 million American women took jobs in factories; another 3 million volunteered with the Red Cross; and more than 200. 000 women joined the military. primarily in auxiliary branches including the Women’s Army Corps (WAC). Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service (WAVES). and Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP).
She also described why the United States could manufacture at scale. Because the U.S. entered the war later than European Allied nations and because of geographic isolation. Americans were in a stronger position to produce the guns. munitions. aircraft. and ships needed to fight. Much of Europe’s manufacturing infrastructure had been depleted by years of warfare. while American factories across a wide spectrum of industries operated 24 hours a day. seven days a week.
“It was an all-out effort,” Guise said.
The work wasn’t tidy. Jobs took place in confined spaces, like within holds of ships. They could be dangerous and demanded not only skill but physical strength. Guise said one woman she interviewed talked about carrying heavy equipment like welding tanks.
When the war ended, many women left factories and turned toward home life—raising families and settling into domestic work. McMullen and her husband had three sons. She was a stay-at-home mother as they were growing up.
Later, she worked as a secretary at an intermediate school and then at California State University’s San Bernardino campus. Together. she and Mel—who worked in title insurance and trust—were active in their community. participating in Masons. Rotary. and women’s clubs. In retirement, they traveled extensively, visiting more than 80 different countries.
Pride carried with humility
Looking back on her time as a riveter, McMullen holds both pride and restraint. “The women jumped in and did all the things the men weren’t there to do,” she said. “We enjoyed the work, but we missed the men in our lives. … We did what we had to do.”
The story of “Rosie the Riveter” has long been about capability—what women could do when the nation needed them. McMullen’s account adds another layer: the sense that her work was also personal risk management for a family, and personal proof that the skills belonged in her hands.
Guise’s description of women learning new trades and sometimes facing resistance is echoed in the details McMullen shared: the night shifts at Lockheed. the seven-day work weeks. the camouflage tarp meant to protect the factory. and the secrecy so complete that workers never saw the planes in their entirety.
By the time the award weekend arrives and June 6 returns as a marker on the calendar. McMullen—now 101—will not just be a participant in an anniversary. She will be a living bridge between the wartime homefront and the country’s modern memory. where the symbol of Rosie still carries the weight of lived work.
United States economy World War II Rosie the Riveter Jennifer McMullen Lockheed D-Day National World War II Museum American Spirit Awards women in workforce