You can learn about lives in an obituary

I examine obituaries … every day. I read them to see that I’m not there and to see if I know anyone who is there. In my capacity as stay-at-home copy editor for The Community News in Aledo, Texas, I edit most of the death notices and obituaries that are published in that paper.
Each obituary tells a short story, or at least it should, depending on the amount of information set forth by the funeral home and family. And each obituary should try to contain something to connect it with the readers and, at least, say to the world that this person lived, loved and was a small cog in the machine we know as humanity – which is all we probably can ever hope to achieve.
When I read about the late Robert “Alex” Lee Alexander of Weatherford, Texas (west of Fort Worth), I was struck by his background – he was a retired Lt. Colonel from the U.S. Army and, most importantly, was an actual, on-the scene, Pearl Harbor survivor.
My first thought was, “I wonder if anyone ever recorded or heard the complete tale he had to tell about that fateful day?” Being a person who loves history and believes in the need to study it in order NOT to repeat it, I could only imagine the wealth of information that would have been garnered from a visit.
I learned this from reading the recap of this man’s life. Alexander passed away at the age of 90 and was just 10 days short of his 24th birthday when his world got rocked on that early Sunday morning.
He first joined the military prior to his 19th birthday and left after three years of service. But a year later, when the Nazis overran the French on their native soil, he re-enlisted and eventually made his way to Oahu.
“Alex” was stationed at Schofield Barracks when Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, on Dec. 7, 1941. Like everyone else that morning, then-Platoon Sgt. Alexander, overseeing four gun crews, was in the process of having breakfast when the Japanese attacked. Luckily, he survived and continued to serve the U.S. Army for almost 28 years.
He was in the U.S. Army for 27 ½ years, serving as Company Commander of the 90th Division, a reserve unit in Fort Worth. He retained his rank of Captain and shortly was promoted to Major.
Too many Americans, the site of the fallen World Trade Center in New York City is considered hallowed ground, but to me, the real moniker belongs to Pearl Harbor, Oahu, Hawaii. And it isn’t just “ground” that is hallowed; it is the bottom of the waters where as many as 1,179 American sailors and soldiers went to their death on that December morning – the worst single military disaster (where more men died on a single vessel) in our nation’s history.
If you EVER get to Honolulu, you must visit the USS Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, one of this nation’s best kept secrets and finest National Park Service properties. My personal journey came two days after it reopened followed 9/11 and it is one I will carry with me for the remainder of my time on Earth.
After seeing the 25-minute film, which includes footage never shown to the public having been captured from the Japanese military, visitors are ushered to a ferry boat for the short ride to the actual memorial, sitting atop on the sunken Arizona. Thus begins a period of silence – and you are reminded that you are about to enter a graveyard. Visitors adhere to that rule above all else.
There is a slightly eerie feeling when you step on the deck of the memorial (one has exactly five minutes to spend). Looking down shows the Arizona in plain view; the outline of the ship’s form is clear to see. The names of all its members are memorialized on a wall and the only sound heard are feet shuffling to and fro; even whispers are magnified.
The other sound is the mixing of the sea waves usually gentle as they strike the sides. A voice tells everyone with a minute left that it is time to leave. Of course, what you see never leaves you.
You will learn things you never knew before. For example, there were some 1.4 million gallons of fuel on the Arizona when she sank. More than 66 years later, officials say approximately two quarts a day still surfaces from the ship. Pearl Harbor survivors, such as Lt. Col. Alexander, refer to the oil droplets as “Black Tears.”
The Arizona memorial is not the only thing at the site; there is a shoreline tribute to all the ships lost in battle during World War II, a refurbished WWII submarine, available for touring, and, docked nearby, the battleship USS Missouri, where the Japanese signed surrender papers in 1945. During my visit, it was off limits; it was, and still is, an active military unit.
There are other unexplained sights that stir your emotions. Pearl Harbor seems to be a major destination for Japanese tourists, perhaps needing to learn the facts of history that their nation, for whatever reason, has chosen not to disclose (a charge often made about the government in Tokyo). One has to wonder what goes through their minds when confronted with the facts and aftermath of that Sunday morning.
The visit is free; you just need tickets (first-come, first-serve) since theater seating is limited (the memorial is open from 7:30 a.m.-5 p.m. and the film is shown starting at 8 a.m. and the last viewing is at 3 p.m.). And you will NOT be alone – the average attendance at the memorial is 4,500 per day, seven days a week.
The most stunning thing about the visit, other than the incredible solemn feeling that engulfs you, is the personal visit with a Pearl Harbor survivor – either military or civilian. My wife and I actually talked, at length, with a man who was on site during the attack. This man seemed genuinely grateful that we took the time to learn about that day and to honor him for surviving and teaching us about his history.
Sadly, those visits will be fewer and fewer by the day. These survivors are simply dying off and when the last man or woman is gone, all those memories and lessons will also disappear.
Lt. Col. Alexander was laid to rest on Feb. 27 in Weatherford. I was unable to be there and I was never able to know him, shake his hand and ask him one of a thousands questions I have about “that day.”
I am poorer for not having that opportunity, but our country is better for his service and his experience. We need to learn more from these veterans about what actually happened back then so we can teach future generations those important lessons.
Yes, you can discover that from just reading an obituary.