I awoke early this morning – the clock read 7:00.

A few minutes later, I was drinking coffee as I relished the fact that I had no plans for the day. I thought happily that I could be as lazy as I wished on this chilly, grey morning in Arkansas.

However, when I realized that today was December 7 and remembered the impact that day had on my father, my family, the citizens of the United States and the world community, I reassessed my plans.

By then, it was nearly 7:55 a.m. and I realized that was the time, in Hawaii 84 years ago, that the first wave of Japanese bombers reached Pearl Harbor. A second wave of bombers arrived at 8:50 that morning, and those 350-plus enemy aircraft resulted in the loss of 2,403 American lives and the destruction of the USS Arizona in the harbor. Five of eight battleships, three destroyers, and seven other ships in the area were either sunk or “rendered  useless,” and more than 200 aircraft were destroyed. Three American aircraft carriers, however, were at sea and survived the attack. More than 1,100 military and civilian injuries were reported, and approximately 100 civilians also died or suffered severe injuries.

It was a Sunday, just as today.

Less than 24 hours later, President Franklin D. Roosevelt addressed a joint session of Congress.

 “Yesterday, December 7, 1941,” he began, “— a date which will live in infamy — the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.”

The Senate unanimously approved a resolution recognizing that a “state of war” existed between the United States and Japan. The House of Representatives also approved the resolution with a single dissenting vote.

Three days later, Germany and Italy declared war against the U.S.  World War II was officially underway, and during the succeeding three and a half years, more than 400,000 American servicemen were killed or later died from injuries suffered on battlefields across the globe.

My father and two uncles served in distant lands during those years; they all returned from the war changed by their experiences but alive.

I have written about December 7 in the past.

This morning, I reread those past remembrances.

I include just a portion of each one here, “lest I forget.” 

The first, posted on my blog, Right Off Main, in early December 2020, is not about Pearl Harbor, but about the pandemic which had just been declared by the World Health Organization. It seems pertinent, in more ways than one:  

I wrote then:

“If there is any good lesson to be learned from a pandemic, it is simply this:

Life goes on.”

. . .

“It is confirmation, come crashing into our consciousness, that — as my grandmother might have said — “We’re not so smart, after all!”

But, life goes on.

That was confirmed in another way, quite unexpectedly, earlier this year (in 2020). I received a friend request through Facebook, from a person I did not know. I am leery of accepting new friends, preferring only a small circle of social media acquaintances. But, I was intrigued when I went to her home page and recognized the family name of some of my forebears among her friends.

Yes, you guessed it; I pushed the accept button.

Then I received a personal message — from Norway — from a person whose name I had never heard, living in a place I did not know from family records. She sent a photocopy of a letter written some 72 years ago by my grandmother in Montana to her cousin in Norway. And that letter brought tears to my eyes.

The long-ago correspondence proved, once again, that across the ages, through good times and bad, life does indeed go on. People go about their business, raise families, worry about the future, and hold on to hopes, dreams and memories of the past.

I’ll share just a snippet of that letter, written December 6, 1948: 

My dear Cousin Kari,

Oh, how many times I have thought of you and asked God to bless you! I hope you are well and happy. We are especially happy the last two years since all our boys are back from Europe, Panama, and China & India after the war closed. Glenn was the last one to come [home] July 2, 1946. They all came home without any scar or hurt but they had seen and mentally suffered a lot. Glenn was in India & China and he was as poor as a stick when he returned. Clifford was with the 8th Air Force in England and Lloyd with the Navy on a mine sweeper in Panama. I pray God will save us from having to fight the world again — but I have two little grandsons so I fear they will come in for a world fight when they reach the age.”

                *Note: Both of those grandsons went on to serve during the Vietnam era, one in the Coast Guard and the other in the Air Force.

This second excerpt was first posted on December 7, 2015. Today, 10 years later, it still seems pertinent.

“Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific seventy-four years ago, a ship received a radio message to alter its course. The captain of the vessel complied.

That vessel and its “cargo” of American servicemen steamed into a port on the West Coast of the United States some days later and found a world very different from the one they had left just a few days earlier. It was a world at war.

Among those troops was my father.

A little more than two years later, he was at an airbase in England, fighting on another front. And he was not to return to the shores of this country until battles on both sides of the world were over.

Lucky for me.

Had that ship in 1941 sailed a few days earlier, made better time, or perhaps been closer to the Philippines (its intended destination), on December 7, 1941, the man who was to become my father might not have returned at all. Through a twist of fate, he and the others on board that lone grey ship were saved the fate of so many others on that day.

My father was born into a world at war. He served in World War II. Then in Korea. And then, because his chosen career was as a military man, he was still in service during Vietnam, although he was not called to that conflict. His skills were needed in other parts of the world.”

My father subsequently spent nearly five years, still on active Army duty, attached to the U.S. Embassy in Paris, France before his retirement

A third post about Pearl Harbor Day seems no less poignant.  I posted the following on my blog three years ago on December 7:

                “On a whim, as I thought about the events of Pearl Harbor those many years ago, I checked to see what else had occurred in history on December 7. It was on this date, also in 1941, that Adolf Hitler authorized the secretive “Night and Fog” campaign, aimed to arrest and execute citizens in territories occupied by Nazi Germany.

I was more than surprised to learn that, on December 7, 1917, the U.S. Congress approved a resolution which led to a declaration of war against the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The Senate later approved the resolution 74-0, and the U.S. was officially a player in the “war to end all wars.” That’s a date in history I was never required to memorize in school.

It was also on this date — in 1972 — when NASA launched the last manned flight to the moon, carrying a crew of three — Command Module Pilot Ronald Evans, Lunar Module Pilot Harrison Schmitt, and Commander Eugene Cernan. Schmitt and Cernan landed on the surface on December 11. The crew returned safely to earth December 19, with Schmitt and Cernan still the last human beings to have walked on the moon. That’s an event I cannot forget, although that mission was 50 years ago!”

. . .

“Several years ago, I was privileged to attend a ceremony at the small Veterans Memorial Plaza in Burleson, Texas. It was a moving tribute to those who served in World War II. The speaker was Don Graves, then a 93-year-old Marine Corps veteran who fought at the Battle of Iwo Jima, and was present at the ceremonial flag-raising on Mount Surabachi.

He was lucky. He survived. He noted that he would never forget the words of President Franklin Roosevelt the day following the bombing of Pearl Harbor. He was 16 at the time. He could not enlist for another six months, until he turned 17. “We were just kids,” he said, adding that he and his buddies signed up to fight for their country without thinking of the future or the consequences. “It was just the way we were brought up,” he said.

Now, that’s something to think about, isn’t it?”

Had I not watched television news yesterday, talked to residents of my community, or experienced the wind, rain and hail of the previous night, I might have believed that spring is now in full bloom here in Hot Springs Village, Arkansas.

I awoke this morning to fluffy white clouds filling a beautiful blue sky. The temperature is pleasant, the wind is calm, and the birds are singing. There are no golfers on the course, but it’s early. The course, however, still has water ponding in low spots from the drenching rains that visited us. I doubt that many golfers will be out today.

The EF-2 tornado that struck our Village Thursday evening was real, and I cannot forget that. So, today, I ventured out to visit nearby shopping areas and streets and neighborhoods other than my own. I wanted to see for myself the damage caused by the half-mile wide tornado that spent some 20 minutes cutting a path more than eight miles long through this tree-filled gated community.

Outside the gates, life and commerce continue just as normal, except for one horribly twisted shell of a building that was lifted off its foundation and deposited only a few feet away, adjacent to a strip center that was, for the most part, untouched. Today, a handful of people were seen sorting through a debris field almost the size of a city block

The manned main gate allows residents and authorized visitors to enter this community, home to slightly more than 14,000 people. The gates may add to our sense of security in some ways, but they were no deterrent to the wind and hail visited upon Hot Springs Village two nights ago.

It’s hard to believe that nature can be this brutal.

Later today, on my brief drive through the Village, I did my best to keep out of the way of the army of workers helping to clear debris, remove tree limbs from roadways, and restore power. The cleanup effort will continue, perhaps for weeks. Thankfully, there was minimal damage to homes and businesses in the area, and no serious injuries were reported. For that, we are all thankful.

The extent of the damage took my breath away. Once again, I was surprised at just how close these severely damaged pockets in the community are to my home. It was a vivid reminder of the power of nature and how ill-prepared many of us are for this kind of “natural” disaster.

Here are some photos:

It’s hard to believe that a metal building can be transformed into twisted rubble while buildings just next door sustain no visible damage. It’s harder still to understand how a debris field can be deposited virtually in the front yard of a home not far away. But I have now seen up close the damage wrought by the relatively slow-moving tornado that swept through my area. I will not easily forget these images.

Much credit is due the hundreds of utility repair workers, road-clearing crews, tree removal companies, first responders, Village employees, street crews and others who responded to help our community. And residents must be commended for helping neighbors as necessary, and for listening to recommendations to stay off the streets and “out of the way” so that the professionals could get to work. You might also be interested in reading my first account of the storm, posted before we knew the full extent of the damage.

It has been quite an experience, one I hope I will not be required to repeat!

It was a dark and stormy night last night.

March 15, 2024, in Hot Springs Village, Arkansas. This morning is grey and dreary. The creek outside my home is flowing fast, and there are puddles of water in the low spots on my property.

From my balcony, I see no alarming signs of damage from last night’s storm. We are safe and warm. We have electricity and water. There are no downed power poles or uprooted trees in sight. However, some in our Village of approximately 14,000 residents do not yet have power restored and we all are urged to be judicious about water usage until possible damage can be assessed or remedied.

Last night, somewhere around 8:30 p.m., a confirmed tornado, albeit a slow-moving and relatively minor one, moved through our area, formed out of a bank of thunderstorms that was widespread from Ohio to southern Arkansas. News reports point to some severe damage to businesses and commercial buildings on the highways near our gated residential community, but so far, at least, there have been no reported deaths or major injuries. Some neighborhoods reported hail the size of softballs, and we understand that tree limbs and downed power lines dot the landscape. We have heard reports of major damage to some roofs, and at least one home is reported to be almost totally destroyed. Such damage has not been confirmed, and such reports are relatively few.

Pulling Together

This morning, it feels more like “community” here than on most days. But there are no neighbors out walking their dogs, no golfers on the course. Residents have been vigilant about checking on friends and neighbors. At least one church opened its doors last night to shelter anyone without power, and those with home damage. Other groups continue to monitor members and neighbors, offering aid to anyone in need. Multiple e-mail and message chains appeared last night, asking folks to respond simply by saying “okay” or “all is well.” That also provided a way for officials to quickly assess where property damage was most severe, and where power outages existed. Many residents have felt compelled to notify far-flung friends and family about conditions here, thinking that they don’t want relatives to hear about “our tornado” on the national news. Somehow, this morning, the feeling is that we live in the “small-town” America that many of us wish still existed

Area schools opened late this morning after it was determined that school buses could safely complete their routes. But they opened, and life will soon return to its normal cadence for most of us. Local restaurants, shops, and service businesses have done a commendable job of keeping us “in the loop” about closings, cancellations, altered hours of operation, and other essential information. But all are determined to move on from yesterday’s storm.

The Reality

I have never before been so close to a tornado’s touchdown, even though I have lived for many years in areas where tornados are far from unknown. Was it frightening? I don’t know; it was over too quickly. It came with too little warning.

My husband and I don’t have the comfort of a “safe room” in our home; our nearest shelter is a basement storage room accessible only via an exterior pathway. We might not have had enough warning last night to make our way there, but it was not an option to follow a slippery downhill pathway in driving rain while also being pelted by large hail.

I wasn’t ready for that kind of adventure. Instead, my husband and I watched television news reports as the path of the suspected tornado swerved into an area just blocks away from our street. We watched in fascination, awed by the weather team’s ability to pinpoint the exact area where the tornado would (and did) touch down.

Memories of the Past

On my mind was an evening several years ago in a suburb of Fort Worth, Texas. Then, my husband and I huddled in an interior hallway of our home. That was scary because I could “feel” the winds as they hovered around neighborhood trees and rooftops. It was as if the house groaned in the effort to hang on. And then we heard the “freight train” sounds as the worst of the fast-moving storm passed nearby. That was fear — clear and unmistakable.

That particular tornado struck down in the DFW Metroplex some 30-40 miles away! I am not eager to repeat that experience, nor to be witness to that sort of major devastation.

This was different. My husband and I stood looking out at the darkness that surrounded us. It was still and quiet outside last night. A sliding door to our screened porch was open, but except for the sound of raindrops, there was little hint of the approaching storm. We saw the brightly-colored weather maps on television and could not reconcile them with the view outside our window.  

At that moment, there was no thunder, no lightning, no wind noise. There was nothing to cause fear other than the occasional loud bang of a hailstone on the roof and the relentless pleas of the broadcast weatherman to take cover immediately.

We did not react in the prescribed manner. It was not that we didn’t know what we should have done. It was simply that we did not react. The rain continued, heavy at times, far into the night, after the tornado warning was lifted. When we finally went to bed, it was hard to sleep soundly.

Assessing the Storm

This morning, as we listened to a radio interview with Kelly Hale, general manager of the Hot Springs Village Property Owners Association, we realized again how lucky we are. Indeed, we have valid reasons to believe that all the residents of our Village are fortunate. Yes, there is property damage. Yes, tree limbs block at least some of our major thoroughfares within the Village. Yes, some small roads are almost inaccessible. Yes, there are power outages.

But, as was noted on the radio this morning, crews from the power companies are on the job to reset power poles; cleanup is underway, and first responders are visiting homes in our community to check on residents. We feel fortunate, indeed. But we have been instructed to stay home and allow the professional first responders, utility workers, and cleanup crews to do their jobs.

In effect, we have been asked to put aside our curiosity and stay out of the way. I am certain there will be time for volunteer labor in our community, but, for now, it can and should wait until the major repairs and cleanup are finished. I am certain also that we will come together as a community to clean up, fix up and move on, just as other communities have done in the past.

We are at home because we don’t want to escalate the problem. We have seen some pictures posted online of the tree limbs and the debris in our neighborhoods. We will watch the television news reports this afternoon. We will eagerly await the final storm assessment from the authorities. And then, as necessary, we will join with our neighbors to help restore our community.

The Day After 

Now it is late afternoon in Hot Springs Village, Arkansas. The first photos are just now being aired on television showing the damage to our community. Here are the facts:

The National Weather Service has confirmed that it is believed an EF-2 tornado cut a swath through our community last night with a storm track approximately one-half mile wide, with winds of about 115 miles per hour. It is believed that the track on the ground was approximately eight miles long. We will eagerly watch the continuing coverage of the storm that burst into our community unexpectedly last night. I, for one, am eager to get out and see the damage to my community firsthand.

For now, though, I am grateful that it was not worse. 

With much of the world under siege from events so much more terrifying than a spring storm, we count our blessings. We do, however, look forward to seeing sun and blue sky once again!