Rainbow Tears

Posted on 06 December 2009

Rainbow in Water

(Artwork is by Christara Copyrighted © http://my.desktopnexus.com/christara/)
(Link to artwork: http://abstract.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/27127/)


Seven years ago, I was dragged quite reluctantly into Pearl Harbor on Oahu, one of the bright gems in Hawaii’s gorgeous necklace of islands.  I was there with my husband to celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary, just as the first anniversary of 9/11 was looming upon the horizon.  As a New Yorker deeply affected by 9/11 and whose youth, indeed spirit, was marked by Vietnam, I wanted no further reminders of war, particularly on a long journey meant to be joyous.  But my husband insisted that, as Americans, it was our duty to visit Pearl Harbor.  And so, we did.

The film shown to all visitors on the first leg of their journey through the harbor left me sobbing.  I tried to leave after the film, but my husband advised me that, in years to come, I would be sorry if I did.  As it turned out, he would have been right.

We were ferried across the bay to a floating structure that seemed at first glance like something out of the original Star Trek series.   This pure white structure rocked gently upon the water like a futuristic subway car.  It was long and its ceiling curved.  The deepest part of the arc was at the ceiling’s middle; its two ends bowed upward at a rather sharp curve.

Our military escort had explained that the monument had been designed to depict World War II.  The deep arc denoted Pearl Harbor Day, the lowest point in our nation’s history during this long, bloody battle, while the soaring ends represented our nation’s final triumph over our enemies.   And then our escort startled me badly by explaining that we were about to visit a mass grave.

Well below the monument, at the bottom of the bay, sat the U.S.S. Arizona.  Other naval ships had been bombed and destroyed on that infamous December 7th, 1941, but the Arizona had taken the biggest hit.  More lives had been lost aboard her than on any other vessel, and some of the bodies had never been recovered.

I had been to the National Cemetery at Arlington years before.  The sight of so very many small white headstones, stretching for what seemed infinity, was a terrible thing to behold.  But somehow, the chapel aboard the monument in Pearl Harbor was worse.  Eternal flames flickered there, beside urns of fresh flowers brought daily by visitors and the loved ones of those who had gone down with the Arizona.  Above these remembrances on a large white marbled wall were carved the names of the soldiers, those who had died during the attack on Pearl Harbor.

To see the same surname three and four and five times in a row was a blow to the gut.  I could not imagine families losing so many loved ones in the blink of an eye.  It was too close to that raw wound, 9/11, for me.  I ached to be gone from that floating tomb, but was compelled to remain there until the skiff returned to the island at its appointed time.  As I waited, my lips moved silently over every name on the wall, as did my husband’s.  Not to do so would have been disrespectful.  I thought of all the wars that had occurred during my lifetime, in which our nation had been engaged — far too many wars.  In my heart’s eye, I saw the Twin Towers fall again like vertical dominoes in a terrible cloud.   And I recalled an old and painfully truthful song by Sting, “History Will Teach Us Nothing.”

Desperate to escape this horror, I made my way to the railing as quickly as decorum allowed.   I looked over the side and watched as fresh flowers, tossed from the hands of other visitors, landed upon the water in honor of our dead.  But as I peered more closely, I saw small rainbows blooming on the surface of the sea.   They were globules of oil, escaping from the Arizona.  Sixty-one years after she had gone down fighting, the oil in her tanks was still rising, gently kissing the surface of the water.  Day by day, minute by minute, drop by drop, they rose and bloomed, then dissipated and died.  But even as they expired, new rainbows appeared, dark upon the water, only to die and be replaced by others.   “Rainbow tears,” I breathed to my husband, who watched in horror and fascination.

I am no physicist, but I questioned how, sixty-one years later, these rainbow tears could still be shed by the ship below my feet, holding many still entombed within her.  “How much oil does such a vessel hold?  Should not the tears have stopped long before now?” I wondered.

I don’t have the answer to the first question, but I believe I have the answer to the second.  The rainbow tears still bloom above the Arizona as a reminder of the sacrifices of our military, and of the sacrifices of the loved ones they have left behind.

In my heart, I believe that they still bloom as a reminder of the costs of war, well beyond the billions of dollars spent in arms and equipment and the inevitable reparations that we must make to those upon whose lands we wage our battles.  The tears, in my opinion, are a small but definite miracle, a cry from those below to find our way toward peace on the troubled waters of our human existence.

Rainbow Over Pearl Harbor

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- who has written 225 posts on Write On New Jersey.

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21 Responses to “Rainbow Tears”

  1. Carmine says:

    In 1987 my wife and I visited The Hawaiian Islands, which included a visit uo the Pearl Harbor Museum and the USS Arizona Memorial. Needless to say It was a very emotinal day as we viewed the pictures of men and their possesions who were there during the attack. Leaving the Museum we were transported to the Memorial via a US Navy Launch. Stepping on board the Arizona you felt like you were stepping on hallowed grounnd. As you walked into the Chapel and viewed the names of the 1800 men entombed below where you were standing gave you mixed emotions. As we cast our Leis upon the water and watched the oil slowly leaking from the sunken vessel, I looked around me and found some blessing themselves and others offering a mikitary salute but all remebering Pearl Harbor. During our visit we also visited Punchbowl Cemetery which is named the Arlington of the Pacific. As a Veteran of that war it brought back many memories and a feeling of sorrow and pride. It was a day well spent.

  2. Tish says:

    I’ve never been there, but now feel like I have. This a very moving tribute to those that lost their lives that day. Thank you.

  3. Anselm says:

    This was one heck of an article. I didn’t know about the rainbow tears until I’d read it. I’ve never been to Hawaii and I may never get there. But it seems that the message coming via the rainbow tears is universal. I hope we truly hear the message one day.

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  8. christara says:

    hello i am the owner of one the wallpapers uploaded on your site, it is copyrighted.
    but its ok i don’t mind you leaving it on here as long has you link to the original and my art work.
    and give some recognition for my work.
    here is a link to the original wallpaper.
    thank you very much for your co-operation in applying my request.
    yours chrstara.

  9. christara says:

    i,d like to thank you very much for your co-operation with my request,
    it just makes it obvious to others that the work is copyrighted and hopefully that will be more than enough.so that others don,t just take it. and you have my permission to display it.
    and hopefully more of my art work will be displayed here in the future.
    and i must say you do have a nice site and some great reads.
    please keep up the great work.
    thank you in advance,
    christara byeeeeee 4 now.

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