December 7, 2006, buried among the stories in this morning’s news on the Iraq war, the Gates appointment, and Brittney Spears divorce, appeared a headline “Pearl Harbor Survivors Meet for the Last Time.” Today was the day that FDR proclaimed “The day that would live in infamy.” On this exact day, 65 years ago, the world was catapulted into a secession of events that led to the first (and so far only) use of atomic weaponry. Changing this world forever. This day deserves more recognition than a page three story about how so few of those who were there are still alive to commemorate the 65th anniversary.
65 years ago, this country was such a different place. There was a respect for elders that is no longer apparent in younger generations. There was imagination and enthusiasm. There was no such thing as “bandwith” or “staying connected.” People actually spoke to each other face-to-face and sent handwritten letters. There were no 24/7 news outlets that filled space with horrific stories about mother’s murdering their children, gang rapes, crystal meth addicted teens, and our nations vulnerability to arsenic in our water supply.
Our entertainment was pure, our song lyrics clean and inspirational. There weren’t places for haters to meet up in cyber-space and plot to commit mass murder at our high schools. There wasn’t a cyber-space. There wasn’t voyeuristic television programming, allowing us to sit at home and be thankful that our lives aren’t a messed up as “those peoples.” There was more sympathy, more compassion, and less cynicism. At least, that’s what my grandmother’s tell me.
Is there a finger to point? Is there one defining moment that we can turn to as that moment in time that led to the deterioration of our society? Perhaps it is the proliferation of media. Now, not to bite the hand that feeds me, I happen to think that media is a phenomenal vehicle and if used properly can do more good than harm. It’s just that we as a society don’t seem to be there yet. We’re a Fear Factor Society where we’d rather watch people eat molded, warm, maggot infested ground beef and wash it down with a 100 year-old egg milkshake, then watch a ceremony to honor those servicemen who withstood the first direct attack on the United States in modern times.
This is a place where I can potentially make a change as a PR practitioner. I can make the decision to usurp a story that breeds disrespect, or touts ugly behavior, or promotes foul language. I can commit to pitching positive, newsworthy stories that are inspirational, thought provoking, and respectable. I think that if we, as a united professional front, stand against the negative, brain-draining media that is so prevalent, then perhaps, on the 75th anniversary of Pearl Harbor, stories of bravery, heroism and patriotism won’t take second fiddle to the Brittney of the day’s divorce.
