"Father's Day: Reflection"

 

A few weeks ago, my mother gave me a picture of me with my grandfather.  I am 5, holding my grandfather’s hand, beaming at the camera; he is a 78-year-old man with a serious expression on his face, allowing his hand to be held and the photograph to be shot.  I am dressed for yard work, in a knitted cap and grubby clothes.  My grandfather is also dressed for yard work, in a white shirt and tie, a cardigan sweater, and high-button shoes.  He generally wore a white shirt and tie, no matter what he did.   My grandfather was a formal man, with a strong sense of duty and great love for his family.  He was part of the soil that bore me, and gave me shape as I grew. 

 Shortly after I got that picture, my brother sent me a copy of a newspaper story about my parents’ experiences at the start of World War II.  That picture, and the interview, speak of generations, the obligations of parenthood and continuity.  

 Here is the story, as excerpted from the Washington Times.

 Donald MacQueen was an ensign assigned to the USS Arizona at Pearl Harbor when the battleship was sunk, with the loss of 1,100 lives, during the Japanese attack that brought the United States into World War II.  All eight battleships at Pearl Harbor were hit, and five were sunk.  In addition, two destroyers were sunk, and nine other ships were sunk or crippled; 2,330 servicemen were killed.

 Mr. MacQueen's wife, Beatrice, who was with him on the island of Oahu that morning, relates their recollections -- on behalf of both of them.  After 43 years, Mr. MacQueen is still unwilling to talk about the events of that day. 

My husband was transferred to Pearl Harbor early in 1941.  He was assigned as a communications officer aboard the Arizona.

Was there much talk of war in the weeks and months before Dec. 7?

Yes, there was.  It was really tense, but we were young, and things don't seem so horrible at that age.

Was there any talk of evacuating the civilians -- people like you?

 No.  There were a lot of maneuvers by the Navy, the Army and the Air Force.  The Army made so much noise, we really got used to it.  In fact, when the attack began, just before 8 am., we thought it was just more maneuvers.  We were awakened by the noise.  We lived in a very small house on the opposite side of the island, away from Honolulu and Pearl Harbor.  A neighbor saw the Navy license plates on our old Buick and came to the door to tell my husband.

How come your husband wasn't on the Arizona when the bombs hit?

He would have been there, but he had swapped duty with a fellow officer.  The other officer was killed aboard the ship.  Donald would have been killed if he had gone to his regular duty shift that day.  He left breakfast on the table and started driving to Pearl Harbor with a friend or two of his in the Buick.  Japanese planes were strafing and they strafed the Buick.  My husband and his friends had to leave the car and get out and crawl.  They left the car where it was and went on foot.  The Arizona was aflame when they got there.

What were your thoughts after your husband left you in the house?

I was highly distraught.  I went to see my landlady, next door.  We sat and talked, and she tried to calm my fears.  I even forgot it was Sunday.  I did not even think of going to church.  I was pregnant with the first of our four children, and I was terrified for him.  I didn’t hear from my husband for three days, at which time I heard that he’d been assigned to another ship.

What was happening to Donald in the meantime?

When they got to Pearl Harbor, people were diving into the water from the stricken ships, but the water was aflame.  Some men made it to shore, but they just got out on land and sat down and then keeled over and died, because oil had gotten into their lungs.

Did you and your husband know his shipmates?

We knew quite a few of them.  Some of the bodies are still down there.  Divers went down later to retrieve what they could.  They brought back a box that my husband had kept in his quarters.  It contained my college ring, and a Catholic Missal, which had the Mass in German on one page and Latin on the other -- my husband was a linguist.  It was badly stained by oil.

How did the authorities handle law and order in the days after the attack?

That was a frightening time.  The [ethnic] Japanese on the island were just wonderful -- they were loyal to the United States.  I think we had a local radio station going.  It had intermittent news reports.  They declared martial law right away, and you were supposed to stay in your house.

Was there any fear of a Japanese invasion?

I wasn't aware of it.  The only real annoyance was the blackout; that meant no open windows.  Our landlady asked me to help with the civil defense office.  That kept me busy, and I didn't have time to worry so much.

How long before you saw your husband?

It was two weeks before he was back.

How long after Dec. 7 did you leave Pearl Harbor?

We came home in February.  My husband had previously asked to go to Naval Intelligence, and that's where he was assigned. His best language is French, he is fluent in Spanish, and quite well versed in Italian and German. 

How long did Donald remain in the Navy?

Until 1945. After that, he was a language teacher at the University of Michigan, and he taught at Clark University for six years.  Later, he was a plant superintendent in private industry and then went back to teaching. We are both retired (schoolteachers) now.

This talk is about fathers, our aspirations and our responsibilities.  My father was the youngest child.  He was sent to live with childless relatives, during the 1920s, because his father was out of work, and had too many mouths to feed.  I’ll never know, but I think that experience taught my father to learn the rules, wherever he was, adhere strictly to them, and expect perfection of himself.  I think he felt that if he were perfect, no one could send him away again. 

Duty, a compulsion to have the right answer, and the need to fulfill the expectations of those in authority formed my father’s life.  He enlisted in the Navy in 1940, before the draft, because he saw what was coming, and felt it was his duty to serve.  After the war, when he had a wife and four children, at times he held jobs that he hated so we could eat.  He provided a roof, food, clothes, school, books, music, a sense of duty, standards of behavior and high expectations.  He didn’t allow himself to settle for so-so, and wouldn’t let us settle either.  He was rarely satisfied with what we did, and never with our first efforts.   

He served.  He loved his family, but his job was to support them, and that came first.  He didn’t tell us that he loved us; he showed love through the support and structure he gave.

I too think in terms of my responsibilities - to my family, and the world at large.  Fathers feel obliged to provide food, clothing, shelter and an example of a moral life; I have welcomed those obligations.  Supporting his family is the bedrock of any father’s life, as it has been of mine.  For me, that is the easy part.  My struggle has been to let my children know that I love them, and to make that love, parental wisdom, perspective, flexibility and acceptance part of the air my children breathe.  It is more natural for me to set standards, and tell my children what they should correct, rather than praise them for what they did well; I understand discipline better than an embrace.  

But fatherhood is bigger than we are, and men grow as they work at it, and deal with their challenges. 

As they are becoming adults, here is what I want for my children:

• To be safe, and know that they belong in a world that welcomes them.
   

• To stand unaided, the equal of anyone, and   marry (if they do) for love, not need.
   

• To be responsible for their lives, and be stewards of the world around them.  Ours is a beautiful planet.  I want them to love it to their bones, and act out of that love.

• To find a productive, worthwhile, ethical and harmonious way to fit in the world.  This will require of them commitment, self-analysis, and a lifelong willingness to learn.