In memoriam

It's Pearl Harbor day. It shocks me how young our children are and can still know what it is. Or the shock and anger a child goes through when they are told about it.

Every year I reflect on this day. I reflect on my dad who served as a truck driver stateside for the entire war. I reflect on the absolute awe and respect he gave all veterans.

Which is why every year I relate the story of when I was an obnoxious 8 year old in San Antonio Texas. My parents ran a hotel there. Every day about 4pm a retired sailor would come in and eat his dinner then leave for his own job (I recall he was a cook, which I always found funny). The old guy befriended me and was one of the nicest guys you could ever meet.

Dad never let the guy pay for his meals. When confronted once as to why he gave the guy a free meal dad's answer was simple. "He was at Pearl"

No man, woman or child ever questioned his decision after he uttered those words to them.

I personally thank those that serve the call. You make my life better than anyone could possibly imagine.

I conclude with the words of another Pearl Harbor survivor.

"How I never got hit, I don't know," said Chun, who was later drafted and served in the Korean and Vietnam wars. "I'll tell you a secret: When your number comes up, you're going to go. Well, every morning I get up, I change my number."