Pearl Harbor Memorial Highway
A scar across the Southwest
Pearl Harbor Memorial Highway is a giant keloid scar across the face of the American Southwest. Nearly 85 years later, it stands as a solemn, tangible reminder of a brutal history: an attack that killed more than 2,000 unsuspecting U.S. service members and pulled a nation into war.
That nation woke up overnight and decided to fight back against the forces of evil of its day. Young men lined up outside recruiting offices, many lying about their age, to provide for their families and fight for the man next to them. Those who stayed behind built a culture of Americans who were simply that: Americans. Threatened from outside, citizens came together to find solutions instead of assigning blame.
The highway itself began with veterans. In 1995, a group of them asked the Arizona Legislature to name Interstate 10 in their honor. The first sign was unveiled on December 7, 1995, at Wesley Bolin Memorial Plaza in Phoenix, near the USS Arizona Memorial, at a time when more than 365 Pearl Harbor survivors lived in the state. In 1998, New Mexico lawmakers followed with a memorial asking the state to dedicate the 164 miles of I-10 there to Pearl Harbor veterans. Driving west from El Paso, the name begins at the New Mexico line and runs through Arizona, outside metro Phoenix.
Take a deep breath
Given the current state of U.S. politics, it would be easy to feel discouraged. Would we fare the same if something happened now? I'm not sure. I feel the changes too, and it isn't comfortable. What used to be political debate and community involvement has devolved into spam communications and bizarre reality TV. With all that negativity, it is easy to assume Americans couldn't possibly rally together.
Yesterday I drove a 254-mile stretch of this highway, and I would ask you to pause and take a deep breath. Finish the article before you continue panicking. In that quiet time behind the wheel, I realized I have a few unique connections to Pearl Harbor.
William Truman Brooks
First, William Truman Brooks, the father of Mama-K. Born April 18, 1925, Truman was only 16 when he enlisted in the U.S. Navy. After basic training, he was sent to Oahu, Hawaii, home of the United States Pacific Fleet, a posting that must have felt far from any war. He was asleep at Pearl Harbor on the morning of December 7, 1941, a date President Franklin D. Roosevelt told Congress the next day “will live in infamy.”
I never had much of a chance to know him. He passed away in July 1996, when I was only nine or ten. He blew out both ears firing anti-aircraft weapons at Pearl Harbor, then lived a hard life on the oil rigs of West Texas. He kept the TV turned up constantly, so you could hardly hear anything over it, let alone ask him questions. From what I remember, Truman was a truly kind man, and I am glad to have those memories in my modest collection.
September 11, 2001, and Taps in Hawaii
On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was at band practice at Lee High School in Midland, along with several hundred other kids. Our band director came out to the practice space urgently, told us what had happened, and brought us to attention. I'm not sure the Star-Spangled Banner has ever been played with such emotion and rawness.
The days and weeks after those attacks had a familiarity to them, as if our history books had come alive. Young men went, without regard for themselves, and lined up alongside other American and allied forces. Facing a different evil in a different time, they shared the same mission: protect the United States of America. Flags were everywhere as we put our differences aside for a time.
Three years later, in 2004, that same marching band took part in a parade while visiting Hawaii. On that trip I was given the honor of playing Taps on my trumpet at the memorial. It was an incredible experience, made all the sweeter by my connection to the place itself. The war in Afghanistan was in full swing, the United States had invaded Iraq in 2003, and most high-school-age guys knew at least a few friends who were signing up to fight.
Veterans Day, 2026
All of that to say, this Veterans Day has been a special one for our family. Having our son join the U.S. Army has been a wild ride, and one that has made us incredibly proud. I won't go into specifics about his duty station, but we discovered some cool facts today. He recently graduated AIT and completed intake at his new base, and it turns out he is assigned to the same division as my maternal grandfather, Richard Atwood Craig.
Richard, known as Dick, was deployed at 19 to the European theater of World War II, fighting mostly in Italy. He lost numerous close friends to enemy fire. He never really talked about specifics, understandably, but he no doubt carried the memories of those friends for the rest of his days.
Closing
A 16-year-old sailor asleep at Pearl Harbor. A 19-year-old soldier in Italy. Now our son, in the Army. None of them waited for the country to feel united before they showed up. Now it’s our turn.
A keloid is a scar that rises where a wound has healed. That is why the name fits this road. The country has been hit before, and it got back up, one ordinary person at a time.
Blake
