[Denizen Commentary - Kat]
My Uncle Donald was ten years old when Pearl Harbor was attacked. He died two years ago from pneumonia. He was in and out of the hospital before that. While he was in the hospital, I went to visit him. We didn't have much in common I thought, so subjects of discussion were hard to come by. He was most often watching college basketball when I came. I was never into basketball.
This particular day was December 7, 2004. I realized that he must have been alive at the time of the attacks so I asked him if he remembered. I don't know what I expected. It was somewhat of an idle question. But, like all those who live through important history, he remembered exactly what he was doing and where.
(continued in flash traffic)
My mom was not born yet. There was a seventeen year difference in their age. Uncle Donald said that the day had started like any other day. He, his mother and father got up, got dressed and went to church. They had no idea what had happened. At church, he said it seemed normal. No one spoke or acted as if they knew about the attacks. Most probably didn't.
They drove home and, as they always did, his dad read the Sunday paper while his mom fixed lunch. Every meal was served in the dining room. His mom had three sets of china. The special china she received as a wedding gift that was used for special occasions. The second best china for Sunday dinner and the every day dishes for the family. As always, his mom put out the "second best" china and placed the food on the table before calling them to wash up and come to the table. Lunch was baked ham, carrots and mashed potatoes. His mom had gotten up early to put it in the oven and make fresh bread rolls.
After the food was served, his father led them in a little prayer. His mom got up and went to the side table to turn on the radio for some music while they ate. Instead of music, a reporter was giving the news. The reporter said something terrible had happened and they were waiting for further reports. His mother turned the station, continuing to look for music. Instead, all she found was the news.
Just as she was about to turn off the radio, a reporter repeated the news: Japanese attack Pearl Harbor. Terrible devastation. Number of casualties unknown. Estimated in the thousands.
Uncle Donald said that no one spoke. After listening to the radio for a few minutes, his father left the table and went to the garage. His mom told him to finish eating and started clearing the table. She turned off the radio.
An hour or so later, my grandfather returned from the garage and hung the American flag they usually put up for Independence Day from the front porch. No one spoke about the news. Uncle Donald said that it seemed like the entire street was abandoned.
Ohio Gov. Bricker and family listen to the news of the war in Europe, 1941
That night, as Uncle Donald laid in bed, he heard his parents in the front room. They were listening to the radio. The music was interspersed with patriotic songs and news reports. His parents spoke quietly. He could only make out a few of the words. One of those words was "war".
While this story is not as exciting as the stories from survivors of the attack, it is part of the story of the "Day that will live in infamy." It's an American story that probably happened all over the country. This is how the people heard that America was attacked. This is how they knew we were at war.
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