Arizona Ghosts

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As we left Camp Bellows bound for Pearl Harbor to visit the USS Arizona Memorial, it was another of those beautiful days on Hawaii that attract people from all over the world. My wife, Shirley, and I were in Hawaii to visit our daughter, who lives in O'ahu. We were filling up the days that she had to be at work by taking the usual tourist sites.
The trip across the island from the windward side via and Pali highway was beautiful, the traffic wasn't bad, and we found the parking lot for the memorial without any problems.

The boat ride across the harbor was pleasant, and the view of the memorial as we approached it was impressive. I thought the concept of an open-air structure spanning the sunken ship was a magnificent idea that brought one close to the tragic events of that day.

I was not at all prepared to be so deeply moved as I was by the chapel-like room at the end of the memorial where the names of those who lost there lives on the Arizona were carved into the stone wall. As I was reading through the names are inscribed. I couldn't really see anything, but I knew the sailors were there, and I could almost see there uniforms. I felt a hair on the back of my neck standing on end, and I wondered if anyone else felt there presence or if I was having some sort of hallucination. I tried to focus my eyes on them, but there wasn't anything of substance to focus on; however, I could hear their voices. In a pleading tone they were asking "What happened? Where are we?"

A moment later they were joined by a third sailor, who I felt was trying to communicate directly with me. I still get goose bumps (what people in Hawaii call chicken skin) when I remember the intensity of the imploring look in his eyes and his melancholy plea, "I want to go home. Please help me go home." I had the sensation that they didn't realize they were dead, and couldn't figure out what had become of them. They were asking for help. I wanted to reach out to them, to let them know they had been dead for over fifty years and were free to move on but how?

This encounter brought tears to my eyes, and it was all I could do to keep from sobbing out loud. My feelings obviously showed, because Shirley asked me if I was upset because I had known someone on the Arizona. I didn't when we arrived at the memorial, but now there are three who will be very close to me for the rest of my life, even if I never learn there names

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