I was four years old. I don't remember the day, but I remember the conversations years and years after... especially on the anniversary. My father was of Greek descent, but he was more American than any of us. He believed in the land of the free... he was a patriot from the moment he stepped on American soil and remained that way until the day of his death in 1963, 8 months before President Kennedy was killed. He would have been devastated had he still been here at that terrible time. I tell you this because it was my father who gave us stability as a family during and after the bombing of Pearl Harbor... and I'm including my aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and anyone else who wanted to be part of our family, and there were many friends who thought they were.
I remember the two stars mom kept in the window when my brothers entered the Navy. Both were stationed on ships and served their country. One of my brothers was knocked out of his bunk of the ship when it was hit by Japanese fire.
I can still see the pictures of the bombings of Pearl Harbor which were in the news at the movies. And there you have it... while my brothers were fighting in Okinawa, my father still tried to make it a normal life for his two little girls who remained at home. He let us know how important it was that my brothers were "over there", but he didn't want the war to be all consuming for us.
We would be in bed and could hear mom and dad talking and you could hear the concern in their voices, though they would never show their worry when my sister and I were around.
My brothers came home safe. Praise God. Pearl Harbor is but a distant memory for some...but it shaped the lives of so many of us at that time, and even today, I can hear my father saying... "It's alright... everything is going to be alright!"
And it is!