There is not a particle of doubt that Vineyarders who were alive and understanding of world events on Dec. 7. 1941 found themselves yes­terday, on the twentieth anniversary of that day, remembering all sorts of circumstances. The sunny, rather brisk weather of that fateful Sunday is as clear as was the sunlight then.
A December Sunday on the Vine­yard, especially in the winter way of life, is a day of family rides, of comfortable gathering around the dinner table, of a thousand and one informal things important to the in­dividual or the family, though per­haps to no one else.
Yesterday came a natural dwelling on memories of little things: what one was doing when the news of Pearl Harbor came through, where one first heard it, who one talked with in surprise, consternation, ap­prehension, how one felt, and what one did the rest of the day that was to change history.
There was an odd feeling, too, com­ing with the reflection that to unnumbered men and women, grown to adulthood since Dec. 7, 1941, the ex­perience of Pearl Harbor was second­hand, a story told, a part of history not remembered, but only told. One of the decisive occurrences in the lifetime of those who knew Pearl Harbor day first hand is just a part of the past to these newer adults, and not of their own lifetime at all.