The core issue remains deeply personal: Pearl Harbor survivors are dwindling, and this year’s commemoration will unfold without any firsthand presence. On the 84th anniversary, just a dozen survivors are alive, all over 100 years old, and none will be able to travel to Hawaii for the ceremony on Sunday. As a result, no attendee will have direct memories of serving during the attack that killed more than 2,300 service members and thrust the United States into World War II. This trend isn’t unexpected; as veterans pass away, families and the public are increasingly turning to alternative ways to learn about the bombing.
Kimberlee Heinrichs expressed a quiet ache when she learned her 105-year-old father, Ira “Ike” Schab, could not join due to illness and wouldn’t be making the trip from Oregon. The removal of a survivor from the ceremony is a poignant change after years in which veterans or their families have been central to the event. The exception was 2020, when the Navy and National Park Service restricted public access due to COVID-19 health concerns.
The memorial begins with a 7:55 a.m. moment of silence—the very moment the 1941 attack began—followed by solemn rituals. A missing-man formation from fighter jets marks the sky, while wreaths are laid to honor the fallen, a duty historically carried by survivors but increasingly performed by active-duty personnel. Survivors rise to salute as ships pass the USS Arizona Memorial, which sits above the sunken battleship still lying in Pearl Harbor.
In 1991, about 2,000 survivors attended the 50th anniversary observance; in recent decades only a few dozen have shown up, and last year’s ceremony drew just two attendees. This attendance level stands in contrast to roughly 87,000 troops stationed on Oahu the day of the attack.
Many survivors carried themselves with warmth, enjoying reunions and photographs with old friends, even as painful memories lingered beneath the surface. For instance, Harry Chandler recalled watching Japanese planes approach from a hilltop mobile hospital, then helping care for the injured and witnessing the Arizona explode; he spoke of sailors trapped on the capsized Oklahoma tapping for rescue before he died in 2024.
The bombing has carried varied meanings for different people, notes historian Emily S. Rosenberg in A Date Which Will Live: Pearl Harbor in American Memory. Some emphasize the need for military readiness and vigilant foreign policy, others critique the Roosevelt administration’s handling, while still others focus on the perceived treachery of Japan or the valor of individual troops.
When asked what Americans should take away about Pearl Harbor, Chandler urged preparedness and better intelligence as essential lessons. Lou Conter, the Arizona’s last living survivor before his death at 102 last year, spoke in 2019 about the importance of remembering those who lost their lives.
Heinrichs’ father has attended since 2016, sometimes six times, drawn by a desire to honor those killed and to remember bandmates and other Pearl Harbor survivors. He also honors three brothers who fought in World War II.
Daniel Martinez, a retired Pearl Harbor historian with the National Park Service, compares the current moment to the early 20th century, when Civil War veterans’ diminishing numbers heightened the need to preserve their stories. He recorded extensive oral histories from survivors, and today the Park Service manages a growing collection, including nearly 800 interviews, most available on video.
These memories remain a cornerstone of the national memory of a turning day in American and world history. The Pearl Harbor museum, part of ongoing renovations, plans to feature more of these firsthand accounts, while the Library of Congress houses a substantial archive from 535 survivors—interviews, letters, photos, and diaries, with more than 80% online as part of the Veterans History Project.
Beyond official archives, descendants and volunteer groups carry the responsibility of storytelling. The Sons and Daughters of Pearl Harbor Survivors, for example, present to schools and march in parades to share family histories. California’s chapter welcomed six new members this year, including two great-grandchildren of survivors.
As Deidre Kelley, president of the group, reminds: the history will endure as long as the living keep it alive. The legacy continues through new generations who remember, learn, and teach, ensuring that the memories of Pearl Harbor persist even as the last witnesses fade.
