Growing up when I did, Pearl Harbor Day was something that was punctually remembered every year.
As a pre-teen and middle schooler I had a large interest in World War II for reasons I cannot fully tell you at this time, so - perhaps more so than my peers - I understood what had happened and in a way, what it meant. What I did not really grasp was the visceral punch of the event in a way that made my grandparents; and parents' generation remember it ("celebrate" seems peculiarly inappropriate) as they did.
After September 11th, I got it.
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