Hell on a Sunshiny Day
Linore Tiffany moved to Honolulu in 1937 as a dietician and was married in 1939. When the attack occurred, she and her husband were in the kitchen; he was working a crossword puzzle he had found. He was an early riser on Sundays so he could work the crossword puzzle in the Honolulu Advertiser, which was late that morning because of a press breakdown.
"I was feeding Paul [our son] while my husband sat in his bathrobe working on the puzzle when we heard the first boom. We looked at each other expectantly because it was only about three blocks from where we lived, and the Navy had decided to blast out some basalt to make a storage tunnel. They usually did the blasting on Sunday, and they always sent a card to tell us when they were going to to it. But neither of us had seen one.
"The next boom was closer, and my husband got dressed quickly and was starting out the door when a little fat sergeant came running down the street with a megaphone, telling all the women and children to go to the cold storage tank. We weren't supposed to know the storage tank existed, for security reasons, but of course we all did.
"I had to walk down a block and a half from the house, then start up an incline to get to the tunnel. There were about 100 of us, and half of the women and children had been to church and were all dressed up. The other half were in nightgowns and muumuus and robes. We were a motley crew. I had grabbed Paul, my coat, a package of cigarettes, and a lipstick, and that was all. No diapers, no food, nothing. As we went into