a lesson

  We are approaching that "date that will live in infamy" and I haven't forgotten. It's certainly a date I will remember, as a remembrance of those that went before me. I wasn't born until twelve years after that infamous attack. But I grew up with an awareness of that. It was spoken of as the war. When I met Mr. Barnes as a child and he was missing a leg I asked about that, the answer was, I lost it in the war. For years afterward Mr. Barnes would see me and say, I haven't found it yet. I heard stories about those that had "lost" their sons and husbands in the war. A war that we had no choice but to engage in as we were attacked on that date, December the 7th, 1941.  

  It was eighty three years ago that attack took place. It was a Sunday morning adding to the dastardly nature of the attack. Yes it was planed that way by an evil empire, the empire of Japan. Yes, they were portrayed in that fashion during the war and after that war. Thick round eyeglasses, slanted eyes, and a fiendish demeanor. They would stop at nothing, no atrocity was too great, they had no honor, no respect for anyone or anything. Sneaky, conniving people bent on domination. It was the Japanese that forced our hand, that led to the unleashing of an atomic weapon! They would not surrender, not capitulate and we were left with no choice. It is the Japanese that hold responsibility for the cold war that would follow. 

  All of that was something I grew up with. It was talked about by my parents, referenced often in books and magazines and even in the cartoons I watched. The war was told from the victors viewpoint, by those that were unjustly attacked, and by those that fought it out to the ultimate victory. A portion of that was also the story of how great a nation we are by forgiving the Japanese for that attack, by rebuilding their nation, providing for their needs. An act that wasn't agreed upon by everyone, especially not those that had engaged in the actual combat. But the politicians weren't concerned with that, it was "in the past" as they often pointed out. It is best to simply forget about that. Put it all behind us and engage in commerce instead. 

  As of April of this year there are fewer than two dozen survivors of that attack on Pearl Harbor. It is estimated there are only 66,000 survivors of WW2 alive in America today. Consider that over 16 million participated over that four year period. Their children are the "boomers" those born between 1946 and 1964. The youngest of the "boomers" would be sixty this year. How many remember that "date that will live in infamy." How many of their children, grandchildren, and indeed great grandchildren will remember? Are we boomers the last generation with a direct connection to that attack? We did grow up being directly influenced by all of that. It did form our world.

  Every generation creates a change. That is a simple fact of life. Some generations attempting to perpetuate the existing ideals and ideologies while others attempt to transform it. The boomers had the "hippie" movement. Peace, love, and rock and roll. Let the good times roll. The Vietnam war interfered with all of that however, creating an internal conflict. There were those that still held onto the past ideals of patriotism and duty. They were in contrast with those willing to abandon those ideals in favor of socialism, establishing "communes" dropping out and tuning in. Concerned only with their personal happiness, feeling no sense of obligation to the country. Universal love being the goal. Can't we all just along.

  Well I for one will not forget the lessons I have learned from the past. I may indeed forgive others for their transgressions, but I won't forget about them. To forget the lesson is to abandon the knowledge obtained in that lesson. Theodore Roosevelt famously said, "speak softly but carry a big stick." When asked about the meaning of that he explained it this way,  "If you simply speak softly the other man will bully you. If you leave your stick at home you will find the other man did not." It is a lesson learned. December the 7th, 1941, a Sunday morning. Lesson learned.