12/07/1941...What It Means To Me...

December 7, 1941:  The date meant little to me as a young man growing up in Michigan.  Sure, I knew the history of the sneak attack by the Japanese, but it was …history. 

In 1979 a cornucopia of good luck brought me to Oahu. As a 23 year old, I was living in house overlooking Kaneohe Bay, teaching SCUBA diving on the weekends and flying Cessna’s thru the week.  I finished my private pilot’s license at Honolulu International on May 30, 1979. While I had started this quest for a pilots license years before in Pontiac, Michigan, I finished it in Hawaii.  As any pilot will tell you, part of the license requires many landings and take offs. (i.e. Touch & Go’s) In the islands, the main airport is Honolulu International.  Suffice it to say that the control tower has little patience for some guy in a Cessna.  Thus, you were shunted off to the ancillary airports. Oh, I did my turns on short final with a long haul 747 next to me for the parallel runway however, for students at that time, Ford Island was the destination.  My log book document numerous hours spent performing touch & go’s on Ford Island in April and May of 1979.  History, was before my eyes.  Given the prevailing wind, the Arizona Memorial was on my left on many days.  On the off days the Memorial was on my right with the hospital on the island just to left of the runway.  History. It happened here.  I flew all around the islands in my training, but the places I remember relate to 1941. Dillingham Airfield on the North Shore, Schofield Barracks in the island interior, and Pearl Harbor. History, was right here.  It all came home in my mind.  I studied and relearned facts that were once foreign to me.  What a place. What a history. What a link to what it means to be an American. Humbled, I was.

If you have the chance, go to Oahu. See the sights and learn about those brave souls that paid the ultimate price on December 7, 1941. It is a unique experience. These soldier and sailors gave all for you, and me. Remember them.