Being Reminded, by Dave Lewis
There were far more people this time than the last time I visited Pearl Harbor. Part of it may have been the day and part of it may have been the significance of the date – the 75th anniversary. But despite the increased number present, there was still a quietness, a respect. The weight of what happened here so long ago seemed to lay over the water and over the land and over the people. It wasn’t that people weren’t enjoying themselves, because they were. Selfie sticks were everywhere. Families posing to capture the memories. Couples walked hand in hand, stopping periodically to read a plaque or gaze across the harbor. Strollers for the young, scooters for the old, and flip-flops for the rest as we absorbed the day.
Despite their dwindling number, there were still several blue and white Pearl Harbor Survivor garrison caps worn proudly by the sailors, marines and
army veterans who were here 75 years ago – a different time and in many ways a very different world. Most had trouble getting around and moved much slower than in 1941, but the few I saw were more than happy to stop and talk and help bring back to life their younger days on this bit of paradise.
The most moving for me was the Oklahoma ceremony. It wasn’t until the ceremony that I understood the meaning behind the memorial entitled Manning the Rails. Each of the 429 marble pillars has the name, rank and branch of service of a man killed while serving on the USS Oklahoma that December 7th morning. The memorial’s design was intended to symbolize the naval tradition of a ship’s crew lining the deck in their dress whites to honor another ship or dignitary.
Among the 429 pillars are two that also have the designation of a Medal of Honor recipients; Seaman 1st
Class James R. Ward and Ensign Francis C. Flaherty.
These servicemen are still “manning the rails” in heaven to guard our freedom and way of life.
I don’t know if the other visitors there that day could sense it. Perhaps it was just me that felt the heroes, both the ones sharing their stories with us and the ones present only in spirit, reminding us of the high cost that was and is still being paid for the country we are privileged to live in.