Plumerias, Memorials and National Anthems

Beautiful Plumerias

Recently Don and I went to Honolulu, Hawaii for our vacation.  This was his second visit after 50 years; my first.
It is such a beautiful state.

As we picked up our rental car, the customer service person handed me a plumeria flower and showed me how to wear it.  I felt welcomed.  I put it in my hair and  wore it for as long as it lasted.

Despite the heat and the high humidity, I think I left part of my heart in this city of plumeria blossoms, orchids, white-sandy beaches, blue seas and pikake-scented lotions.  Already, Don and I have talked about going back and visiting other islands.  In her exotic island way, she has made me feel welcomed.  One evening we went to the concierge’s desk at the hotel where we stayed.  A lady warmly greeted us .  She looked at Don and me intently.  Don told her we needed help with a visit to the Pearl Harbor Center.  She asked where we were from.  “San Francisco,” Don replied.  Without taking her eyes off us,  she smiled and said, “You look like you belong here.”  I guess the plumeria blossom in my hair didn’t give away that we were tourists.

The following morning we got up early for our visit to the Pearl Harbor Center.  I made sure I had my two Salon Pas patches on the bottom of my feet, prepared to do long walks for the day.
We parked our car a little distant from the Center and got ourselves adequately prepared for this adventure.  Straw hat on, check.  Dark glasses, check. Water bottles, no. Will have to pick those up from the concession stands.  Receipt for the tickets, check.  Now, on to the Center.  As I got out of the car, an intense emotion came over me.  A feeling akin to how I felt on our visit to ground zero in NY shortly after 9/11.  This is hallowed ground.

Don and I got our tickets to the film presentation of the attack on Pearl Harbor.  While waiting for our turn, we were told that we could go over to the museum where there were exhibits and pictures.  We put on our earphones and joined the rest of the folks going in.

The pictures we saw and stories we heard were very close to home for me.  I was born in the Philippines four months before December 7, 1941.  My father was a Chief Petty Officer in the US Navy at the time, serving in a naval station in the Philippines.  I have heard many stories firsthand about the attack and the war days and years that followed.  My father’s base, Sangley Point, was subsequently attacked, too.  My family had told me how my father came home and instructed my mother to get the whole family out of the city.  He then went back to his post.  My mother did as was told not knowing whether we would see my father again.  One day Japanese soldiers came for my father to our now empty home.  In anger, they took our neighbor and killed him instead.  So many of these memories came rushing back to me.

By the time we got to listen to accounts narrated by local Honolulu people, tears had begun to well up in my eyes. My heart felt such an ache.  What a traumatic disruption to ordinary, normal lives. Many young lives of all shades of color, accents, eye shapes, etc. enlisted to defend their country, lives either snatched away by this ugliness called war or forever physically and emotionally changed by its onslaught.  The Pearl Harbor attack film was painful to watch, but we did.

Strangely, as we spent this time of bringing back the past, I kept seeing an image of a young man transposing itself against the backdrop of young men on the battlefield. Colin Kaepernick, a football player from my state of California.  He recently made himself controversial by kneeling on the football field while the Star-Spangled Banner was being played.  Supposedly, this was his protest statement on the injustices in this country against his race.

Beneath this memorial lie 1177 Americans
who paid the ultimate sacrifice for my freedoms.
May I never forget my debt to the past!

We went on the USS Missouri where Emperor Hirohito* of Japan and Generals Wainwright and MacArthur signed the documents of Japan’s surrender.  My father served on ships like this during his time.  I wondered how men could live comfortably for months and months in something like this.

We couldn’t get on board the USS Arizona museum, but we were able to see it from the deck of the USS Missouri.  The museum is built right on top of the sunken USS Arizona which has been the watery grave of 1177 naval personnel.  Their remains have stayed on their ship.  My thoughts go back to Colin Kaepernick.

I wonder what he's thinking about?
His fellow soldiers who didn't make it home?

Through our visit to these memorials, the image of Colin Kaepernick protesting against what he believes to be injustice to his race kept coming back to me.  Is he right in doing this?  He certainly has the freedom to do this.  Many gave their lives to protect this freedom for him and the rest of us.

When I was a young schoolgirl in the Philippines, we were taught that wherever we were, if we heard the national anthem being played or sung, we were to stand at attention. This act paid tribute to our country and her struggles, history, and traditions.  We had big problems in the country - corrupt politicians,
the ever-present poverty and the controlling power of the rich and landed.  We were taught to love our country, warts and all.  Again, I think of Colin Kaepernick.  I wonder if he was ever taught to love his country, warts and all?

*Japanese Foreign Minister Mamoru Shigemitsu signed for Emperor Hirohito