HONOLULU – Each year, the anniversary of the 1941 Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor is commemorated with a solemn ceremony at the military base’s waterfront. Traditionally, this event has been graced by the presence of the attack’s survivors, offering a poignant connection to history. However, this year marks a significant change.

With only 12 survivors of the Pearl Harbor bombing still alive, all of whom have reached centenarian status, none are able to travel to Hawaii for the ceremony scheduled for Sunday. This absence means that for the first time, the event will proceed without any firsthand witnesses to recount their experiences of that fateful day, which claimed over 2,300 American lives and propelled the United States into World War II.

The absence of survivors is an expected but poignant development in the narrative of this historic event. As time passes and the number of living survivors dwindles, their descendants and the public increasingly seek alternative methods to engage with and learn about the past.

Kimberlee Heinrichs, daughter of 105-year-old survivor Ira “Ike” Schab, expressed her sadness, saying, “The idea of not having a survivor there for the first time — I just, I don’t know — it hurt my heart in a way I can’t describe.” Schab, who had planned to fly in from Oregon, was forced to cancel due to illness.

Survivors have been a fixture at the annual observance in recent years, with the exception of 2020, when pandemic restrictions led to the closure of the event to the public. Their presence has always served as a living testament to history, as one survivor poignantly noted, “I can still see what was happening.”

“I can still see what was happening.”

The ceremony begins with a moment of silence at 7:55 a.m., the same time the attack began on Dec. 7, 1941. Solemn rituals follow.

Fighter jets fly overhead in “missing man formation,” in which one jet peels off to symbolize those lost. Survivors present wreaths to honor the dead, though active duty troops have assumed this job in recent years. Survivors rise to salute active duty sailors who themselves salute as their ship passes the USS Arizona Memorial, which sits above submerged hull of the battleship sunk in the attack.

About 2,000 survivors attended the 50th anniversary event in 1991. A few dozen have showed in recent decades. Last year, only two made it. That is out of an estimated 87,000 troops stationed on Oahu that day.

Many survivors were jovial despite the occasion, happy to catch up with old friends and pose for photographs. Even so, harrowing recollections were seldom far from their minds.

In 2023, Harry Chandler gazed across the water while telling an Associated Press reporter how he was raising the flag at a mobile hospital in the hills above the base when he saw Japanese planes fly in and drop bombs. Chandler and his fellow Navy hospital corpsmen jumped in trucks to help the injured.

He spoke of seeing the Arizona explode, and of hearing sailors trapped on the capsized USS Oklahoma desperately tapping on their ship’s hull to summon rescue. He helped care for Oklahoma sailors after crews cut holes in the battleship.

“I can still see what was happening,” Chandler said. He died the next year at a senior living center in Tequesta, Florida.

Lessons from the past

The bombing has long held different meanings for different people, the historian Emily S. Rosenberg wrote in her book “A Date Which Will Live: Pearl Harbor in American Memory.”

Some say it highlights the need for a well-prepared military and a vigilant foreign policy. To some it evokes then-President Franklin D. Roosevelt administration’s “ineptitude or deceit” and the unfair scapegoating of the military. Others focus on the “treachery” of Japan or the heroic acts of individual troops, she wrote.

Asked what he wanted Americans to know about Pearl Harbor, Chandler said: “Be prepared.”

“We should have known that was going to happen. The intelligence has to be better,” he said.

Lou Conter, who was the Arizona’s last living survivor when he died last year at 102, told the AP in 2019 he liked to attend to remember those who lost their lives.

“It’s always good to come back and pay respect to them and give them the top honors that they deserve,” Conter said.

Heinrichs’ father has been six times since 2016. The former tuba player on the USS Dobbin likes to go not only to remember those killed but also in place of his late band mates; his three brothers who fought in World War II; and the now-deceased Pearl Harbor survivors he has met.

Recording the remembrances before the survivors are gone

Retired National Park Service Pearl Harbor historian Daniel Martinez said the circumstances resemble the early 20th century when Civil War veterans were dying in increasing numbers. Awareness grew that soon they wouldn’t be able to share their stories of Gettysburg and other battles, he said.

Martinez knew something similar could happen with Pearl Harbor survivors and recorded their oral histories. During a 1998 convention, he conducted interviews 12 hours a day for three days. The Park Service today has nearly 800 interviews, most on video.

“They remain as a part of the national memory of a day that changed America and changed the world,” Martinez said.

The Park Service shows some in its Pearl Harbor museum and aims to include more after renovations, said David Kilton, the agency’s Pearl Harbor interpretation, education and visitor services lead.

The Library of Congress has collections from 535 Pearl Harbor survivors, including interviews, letters, photos and diaries. Over 80% are online. They are part of the library’s Veterans History Project of firsthand recollections of veterans who served in World War I onward. Many were recorded by relatives, Eagle Scouts and other amateurs interested in documenting history.

The Sons and Daughters of Pearl Harbor Survivors gives presentations in schools and marches in parades to share the stories of their families. The California chapter has added six new members this year, including two great-grandchildren of survivors.

“When they’re all gone, we’re still going to be here,” said Deidre Kelley, the group’s president. “And it’s our intent to keep the memory alive as long as we’re alive.”