The Day Our Souls Were Ripped Open

The Greatest Generation is the one that will soon be lost to us. 

Can we imagine life through their eyes.? Souls ripped open.  Blood drowned while waters rise.  Screams overcome by fire.  Holes forever adorn the glass.  Twisted metal and hands reaching.  Color lines gone and people diving deep.

Christmas decorations falling.  Carols overcome by an unknown sound.  Sunday mass empty.  Rosaries falling from shaking hands.  Children stopped in their tracks.  Mothers covering their babies.  Fathers gripping.

Where were we?  Were we in our mother’s womb?  Were we only on God’s radar?  Were we a thought, a speck, a dream?  Where are we now?  At home watching a football game… reading… writing… sleeping…dreaming… thinking about what is politically correct… hiding… and never remembering?

Death.  Sometimes it comes so fast and when it does, it’s with such intensity that we would think that a nation would have its enormous footprint stamped so far into its forehead that it should not so soon be forgotten… but we do, forget, constantly.

History repeats, and repeats, and repeats…

This is a day that is a faded memory, a day that those who lived through it are almost dead, a day that is lost on our generation, a day of infamy that breaks your soul but only when you stand in its presence. History repeats and repeats and repeats… It does so because we keep losing it. I vow to never let go of the truth and to strive to teach my children just that.

History repeats and repeats and repeats... it does so because we keep losing it. Share on X

Loosing sight is always loosing mind, and your mind may never return, even if death stamps another footprint on our foreheads.

December 7th, 1941.  A day that was America’s tragedy.  A day that was the World’s tragedy.  A day that a nation was so taken with anxiety that they thought that by placing death on another’s front porch would be the solution to avoid a conflict.  They killed more than 2,000 people and injured over 1,000 more.  Logic.  Death does not annihilate conflict.  It creates a burning inferno.

Old men and shaking hands.

Patches of memories and purple orchids.  Rusted metal and flowery wreaths. Services of gratitude and speeches of honor.  Burial in the salty abyss.  A flag draped across wood.

1 Peter 5:10 “And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”


Trials.  That’s a mild description of what took place 77 years ago and what followed for years. But these men fought through the trials, fought through the adversity, fought through the blood and tears and death, they persevered. God proved faithful. Let us prove faithful as well.

Never forget, my friends, the trials of that day because one day those who lived it, will be no more on this earth. They will be home in the arms of Our Father and we must persevere in carrying the torch of remembrance.
Never forget.

Photo Credit: The Greatest Generation Foundation

….Taps by Daniel Butterfield

Day is done, gone the sun,

From the lake, from the hill,

From the sky.

All is well, safely rest,

God is nigh.

Thanks and praise, For our days,

’Neath the sun, ’Neath the stars,

’Neath the sky,

As we go, This we know,

God is nigh.

Fades the light; And afar

Goeth day, And the stars

Shineth bright,

Fare thee well; Day has gone,

Night is on.

Go to sleep, peaceful sleep,

May the soldier or sailor,

God keep.

On the land or the deep,

Safe in sleep.

Love, good night, Must thou go,

When the day, And the night

Need thee so?

All is well. Speedeth all

To their rest

Rest well, loved ones. Fair winds and following seas. Be comforted in the arms of our Father.


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