Met a woman today who was on the Big Island on December 7th, 1941. Her recollections of that day as a 9 year old are still as clear in her mind as they were when it happened. She remembered feeling something akin to aftershocks during the bombing. Her brother, then 15 years old, was over at Hickam that morning and saw the Zero pilots flying right above him. He had no idea they were Japanese until someone in uniform pulled him inside to tell him they weren't American planes and they were under attack. She also shared with me about how life changed on all the islands during the war. They had mandatory blackouts at night over on the Big Island, they built bunkers in case of another attack and she vividly recalled carrying a gas mask with her to school every day.
A chance meeting like that was not going to happen in New York. I am really thankful she took the time to share that with me today. She barely spoke above a whisper, but she was so sweet to talk to. She had two family members with her. I gave her a fist bump and took a picture with her. Could not have been more gracious to speak with me after I told her why I was in Hawai'i.