July 12, 2010

Seek the Lord while He may be found; call upon Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return to the Lord, and He will have compassion on him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon. Isaiah 55:6, 7

The newest unit of the National Park Service—number 392—will be dedicated this Saturday, July 17. It’s a fitting date for the ceremony, coming 66 years to the day after the tragic incident the site memorializes.

The American Merchant Marine at War website and the Naval Historical Center tell the story best. The Navy received authorization to construct an ammunition depot on San Francisco Bay just two days after the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor. Port Chicago had been used as a shipyard during World War I, and was served by several railroad lines. Most of the ammunition arrived by train, and was held in boxcars located between protective concrete barriers. When it needed to be loaded on to ships, the train moved to the pier for the transfer. Loading went on around the clock.

The ammo included bullets, depth charges, and bombs (some weighing up to 2,000 pounds), and was moved manually by hand trucks, carts and cargo netting. As you might imagine, the work was extremely dangerous.

The men assigned to this backbreaking labor were African American. The officers were all white, reflecting the racial segregation of the time. All had received some training in cargo handling, but not in loading munitions. Add to that fact the tight deadlines the Navy was under to get the material to the Pacific Theatre of operation, a sense of competition to see who could load the most tonnage in an 8-hour shift, and threats of punishment if the work went too slowly, and it’s little wonder safety standards were often given short shrift.

On July 17, 1944 two merchants ships were being loaded on the pier. One already held about 4,600 tons of munitions. A locomotive and 16 boxcars sat nearby, waiting for their 429 tons of cargo to be transferred to the waiting vessels. At 10:18 p.m. witnesses described a ripping explosion and brilliant white flash, followed by thick smoke, a massive fire, and several smaller explosions that looked like fireworks. Then the heavily loaded ship went off, and the shock wave was felt as far away as Nevada. Pilots flying in a plane at 9,000 feet reported seeing shards of white hot metal as big as houses shoot past them.

All 320 men on duty that night were killed instantly, 202 of them black enlisted men assigned to the dangerous duty. Three hundred and ninety people—military personnel and civilians—were injured, including 233 of the black soldiers.

Less than a month later, the black Naval ordnance battalions were ordered to begin loading munitions again, this time at nearby Mare Island. Two hundred and fifty-eight of them refused, citing continuing safety concerns. All were court-martialed; most “merely” forfeited pay and were given dishonorable discharges, while 50 were sentenced to 8 to 15 years at hard labor. In January 1946, the men received clemency, and in 1999, President Clinton pardoned Freddie Meeks, one of the few still-living members who had received the harshest punishment.

Port Chicago Naval Magazine National Memorial honors the memory of those who gave their lives or were injured in the explosion, recognizes all who served there, and commemorates the role the facility played during World War II. The park also teaches about segregation and civil rights, about learning from past mistakes and making things right.

Clemency. Pardon. These words represent mercy. Those shell-shocked soldiers certainly deserved it. The words also mean freedom, a fresh start. I’m not so sure all the men got that. I can only imagine the mental images and perhaps lingering physical wounds they endured, not to mention the further discrimination they faced in civilian life. Justice is one more concept embodied by those two words. The kind these men achieved was incomplete at best; even a presidential pardon can’t fully erase years of hurt and pain.

I am of course speaking humanly. God’s pardon is much more comprehensive, an all-inclusive deal. He includes it all: mercy (Titus 3:5, 6), freedom (John 8:36), a clean slate (Psalm 103:12) and a fresh start (2 Corinthians 5:17).

And justice? Well, let’s just say that God doesn’t give us what we deserve—separation from Him because of all the wrong things we say and do and think (Romans 3:10-12, 23). About 2,000 years ago, He sent His Son Jesus to take care of that (1 Peter 3:18). And only God has the power to make up for the past (Joel 2:25, Romans 8:28).

If you’ve never experienced the deep peace a pardon from God brings, He invites you to seek Him out for one.

Much better to get one before all hell breaks loose—figuratively and literally…