Tuesday passed unrecognized by quite a few Americans. It was the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. While the consequences of what happened that day are innumerable, I’d like to take a moment to remember the people: 2,402 military personnel and 57 civilians were killed that day. If I could, I would list the names, but I don’t think there’s space and even if there was maybe you wouldn’t read them. To be honest, I don’t think I would. But that’s where we, as Americans, have fallen short.

Recently I reread “The Things They Carried” by Tim O’Brien, which is a collection of stories about an American platoon in the Vietnam War. Destruction, pain, havoc and death all are associated with war. However, the final story of the novel, “The Lives of the Dead,” is about life. It is about a 9-year-old girl named Linda, with whom O’Brien fell in love.

By telling stories, O’Brien counteracts and overcomes the dehumanization he suffered and inflicted upon others during the war. Stories allow people to be remembered and brought back to life. After Linda died, O’Brien asks her in a dream how it feels to be dead and she replies, “Well, right now, I’m not dead. But when I am, it’s like … I don’t know, I guess it’s like being inside a book that nobody’s reading.” Linda, in that moment, is not dead because O’Brien is thinking about her. She is resurrected in his memories and stories of her. He keeps her spirit alive. She, like a book, can be taken down off the shelf and read again and again, brought to life again and again.

In O’Brien’s words, “[I]n a story I can steal her soul. I can revive, at least briefly, that which is absolute and unchanging. In a story, miracles can happen. Linda can smile and sit up. She can reach out, touch my wrist, and say, ‘Timmy, stop crying.'” In this way, a story is magical. Just by a story, O’Brien can revive her soul, which is “absolute and unchanging,” preserved in his memories and stories, and return her to the world. “The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it, hoping that others might then dream along with you.”

So, dream along with me. Help me remember those Americans who died at Pearl Harbor. Help me remember all the American men and women who have given their lives out of service. When you walk through the Gold Star Hall in the Memorial Union, take off your hat, pause your conversation for a few moments and read the names on the wall.

No, we may not have known them personally; we may not be able to add pages to their story. But we can listen and hear their stories. We can help keep them alive.