All of the flags were flying at half staff today around the city.  I'm not sure if it was for the victims of the mall shooting that just happened or if it was in commemoration of the attack on Pearl Harbor.  

I sort of hope it was for Pearl Harbor.  Not that I don't think the victims of the mall shooting should be remembered or mourned.  It is just that I hope that attack on Pearl Harbor isn't forgotten.  

The attack on Pearl harbor is one of those moments in History ( ya know capital H history that ends up with big sections in the junior high text books) that has personal family history significance for me.  My maternal great grandfather was stationed at Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941.  The family was with him including my grandpa. They had moved from Chicago, to Hawaii.  So much of my memories about my grandpa are tangled up with his stories about Pearl Harbor.  But his stories were all sort of funny.  He was teased about being such a heavy sleeper.  

" He sleeps so soundly, he slept through half of the bombing of Pearl Harbor. "  followed by a round of hearty laughter.  But the thing is that he did actually sleep through most of it.  The actual bombing didn't take all that long from my understanding.  Grandpa was 15 or 16 at the time.  He was the oldest boy still living at home.  His mom, older sister, and two younger brothers had gone to church.  His dad was on duty.  I don't think they lived on the base but they were close.  But all of that I heard from other people.  Grandpa just told the joke.  The stories that were scary or worried were told about him and not by him.  

My Great Grandpa was an officer, and I think he had command of a ship.  In some of the pictures the one he was on was pointed out to me.  There was construction going on, and his ship was under a large crane.  That is probably what kept that ship safe from the Japanese planes.  It was Sunday morning though, not many ships had that many officers on them.  So great grandpa moved from one to another where he was needed.  I guess it took some time after things started calming down a little before the family was sure where he was and that he was okay, because of that.  One of the stories that I have only heard from other people was that at some point before he headed out to sea he made it home and handed my grandpa a handgun.  He told him that if the Japanese landed, invaded, to kill his mother, sister and younger brothers, then kill himself.  Everyone was so scared and had heard such horrible stories about what had happened in China when the Japanese had landed.  I cannot even begin to imagine what could possibly go through our mind to hear that from your father, who is leaving to go to war.  How truly horrible.  

That one just baffles me.  Other stories were told more often, and are more telling or explicative of some of my personal attitudes.  Or I don't know if I can even call them personal attitudes it is almost deeper than an attitude.  Public service is something that has been pounded into my very being.  The first time my grandpa and Aunt Sis gave blood was after the bombing.  They sat on the front porch of the hospital because there wasn't room inside, and donated into a mason jar and a coke bottle.  At that point glass containers were the standard anyway but they didn't have any more proper containers and were sterilizing whatever worked and using it.  I always stop at blood drives and think of that story when I do.  The thing is it is not just Pearl Harbor stories that carry these messages it was lots of things but they get nicely encapsulated in the Pearl harbor stories.  I mean everyone was on the volunteer fire department when I was growing up.  It was expected that if you saw something that needed to be done you just did it, you pitched in, you helped people out.  It is one of those things that is so much apart of me that I am confused when other people don't share the outlook.  Sort of like when you are a little kid and you go to your friends house and find out that their mom makes PB and J sandwiches differently than your mom.  I'm an adult and I know that people have different belief systems and experiences that inform their decisions.  I still get that feeling though for a moment  and have to catch myself when people walk by some one who needs some help.   

There are so many other stories... about my great grandma flagging down a big flatbed truck to get the family out of there, great grandpa developing a way to clear the big guns from a misfire during the battle, and then my cousin Josh being taught it when he went into the navy.  the hilarious story about the neighbor lady who was "helping" dig a bomb shelter and got stuck in the bottom of the hole. Grandpa had dug stairs into the wall of the hole so people could get in and out.  she just dug them out.  Apparently she was a rather large Polynesian woman and it took a whole lot of work to get her out.  

I could keep going but this is already a long post.  But this is the context, my mom's side of the family tell stories and laugh and have a really hard time stopping the story telling and going home.  The Michiels lack some vital "goodbye" synapse.  We say goodbye but then we recap everything we just said and think of one other thing that we needed to tell you.  I miss Grandma and Grandpa.