Remember Pearl Harbor

As a child, I lived on the island of Oahu not far from Pearl Harbor. My neighbor  was a man named James Yamada, who would tell me blood curdling stories of the attack. Every December 7th, I think about those war stories of my youth. I can remember him pointing out the path that a Japanese zero took as it flew down our street. He said that it flew so low, he could see the face of the young pilot.