MANENGGON. It’s a small place, really, but it has such a huge significance ... and not just for Guam.

Last Saturday, I again had the honor of covering the Manenggon Memorial Service. Today, I’d like to take the liberty of sharing some of my personal reflections about it with you.

Although I was raised a Christian, and having lived so long in Japan that I’m probably more of a Buddhist now than anything, my ancestors on my father’s side of the family were Jews who emigrated to the U.S. from Russia and Poland. There is no doubt that many of my own relatives suffered and died in the Nazi concentration camps in those countries ... as so many Chamorros did at Manenggon.

Standing on that sacred ground on that day, this was something I remembered.

And I remembered, too, that the relatively short period of the Japanese occupation was not the only time that the people of Guam have suffered. Much worse was the genocidal horror of the Spanish Chamorro War. And while not as violent, the pain from the long period of Spanish colonization ... and, yes, that of the shorter, more benign American one, cannot be ignored ... or forgotten.

In her remarks at last Saturday’s ceremony, Sen. Tina Rose Muña-Barnes, chairperson of the Manenggon Memorial Foundation, said: “For thousands of years, our people walked these lands and sailed these seas. Through all these years we have endured many hardships. Still, we survive. Our people survive. Our stories survive.”

Hearing these words, in that place, at that time, I could sense the flow of history in an almost tangible way ... almost hear the voices of all those who went before, almost feel the presence of those who passed away so violently in that very spot just one short generation ago.

After so much, how easy it would be to be bitter. How natural it would seem to want nothing but vengeance.

But this is not what we saw.

Far from it.

Even ... no, especially ... those who had lived through the terrible events at Manenggon themselves, the honored man’åmko' who had gathered there that day to help us remember, were more than willing to meet the honest contrition of the Japanese guests who came to offer their sincere apologies for the actions of their countrymen with warm-hearted forgiveness.

For them, at last, the war was over.

It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

And it showed to me the true resiliency of the Chamorro people, and the true value of the Chamorro culture.

Let me just say that, for those of you who are working to preserve this culture, to remember, to share and pass down the stories of Guam, you have my profoundest respect.

As do those Japanese people who had the courage and honesty to confront the darkest side of their own country’s past, and strength of character to come to an event like this and say what needed to be said. You, too, are heroes.

In closing, I’d like to step a little bit out of character and offer a little prayer. Not a prayer for the souls of those who suffered and died at Manenggon – people who are much better at that than I have already done so. Not even a prayer for reconciliation ... that, too, has been handled.

No, my prayer is just that people beyond Guam learn about the spirit of Manenggon we saw last Saturday.

The world would be a better place for it.