Remembering Pearl Harbor Day is like being reminded of 9/11 and another attack on American soil.  My mother’s birthday is December 8 and she remembered the day well.  She was a young woman of 20 and pregnant.

She and my dad were excited, yet wondered how they would support a family on such meager earnings. Only two years prior to her 18th birthday, she and my dad were married. Now they, along with an unsuspecting nation, would wake to news that shook our country to the core.

The United States had resisted entering World War II, but the events of that day, meant we could no longer be uninvolved. Japan sent waves and waves of planes across the Islands of Hawaii, bombed the American ships in Pearl Harbor and Kamikaze pilots plunged into the sea, destroying themselves along with unsuspecting sailors.

Because information couldn’t be transmitted with speed – no CNN – no internet – difficult communication on all levels; it took a while before all the details were sorted out and the news reached President Roosevelt. Our nation was devastated. Our navy crushed. 2,403 dead and 1,176 wounded. Our resolve was to “Remember Pearl Harbor” as involvement in this war was inevitable.

The following day, my mother turned 20. I would come into the world 6 months later.  My dad would not serve in the war because of a physical disability. They continued their lives as planned, but this interruption in their journey would forever live in their hearts and minds.

Unprepared – unsuspecting – thinking we’re beyond something like this ever happening again, our country was attacked almost 60 years later by a group of terrorists.  Being unprepared leaves us wide open for vulnerability. We can never be ready enough. The same is true on a spiritual level.

This is the season of repentance – a time to lay all our sins on the table and turn them over to the Savior. As we remember Pearl Harbor, let it be a constant reminder of the importance of being ready.  We must be watchful, diligent and prepared in all areas of our lives – especially when it comes to eternity. Our souls are at stake.


As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on
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  1. Lifetime Chicago says:

    Beautiful story!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I was a day late as well— actually still late— but none the less forgotten— when I was growing up, our neighbor was a British nurse who had been stationed at Pearl Harbor that fateful day— I wish as a kid I would have asked about her stories

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  3. My dad was seven years old when he heard the news about the attack on Pearl Harbor. He and my grandparents lived in California at the time. My dad told me: “Thinking that Pearl Harbor was in California, like the rest of the world, I immediately went outside and started digging a trench for us to hide in.”

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  4. hatrack4 says:

    When I read articles about the memorials on Saturday, I thought of a file clerk who worked for me in Watertown, MA. He had been in the Navy, nearing retirement. He went down with his ship, rescued when they cut through to him and his men a few days later. But the trauma left him severely affected mentally. They retired him and made him a civil servant at the “Arsenal” at Watertown. They taught him how to fill out one form. That became his total mental capacity. When I met him, he was rummaging through the drawers of my desk, a man in his 80s, maybe 78 or 79. I removed him from the office, but the secretary, his “keeper”, told me the story. They tried to retire him at 65 from civil service, but he bugged his family at home so much, they took him to Tip O’Neil’s office in downtown Boston and left him there. A day later, the guy in my office, before I got there, received a letter from Tip O’Neil saying that this war hero was to never be retired again. Obviously, he had mindlessly rummaged through Tip’s file drawers too.

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