About 2,000 survivors attended the 50th anniversary event in 1991. A few dozen have showed in recent decades. Last year, only two made it. That is out of an estimated 87,000 troops stationed on Oahu that day.

Many survivors were jovial despite the occasion, happy to catch up with old friends and pose for photographs. Even so, harrowing recollections were seldom far from their minds.

In 2023, Harry Chandler gazed across the water while telling an Associated Press reporter how he was raising the flag at a mobile hospital in the hills above the base when he saw Japanese planes fly in and drop bombs. Chandler and his fellow Navy hospital corpsmen jumped in trucks to help the injured.

He spoke of seeing the Arizona explode, and of hearing sailors trapped on the capsized USS Oklahoma desperately tapping on their ship’s hull to summon rescue. He helped care for Oklahoma sailors after crews cut holes in the battleship.

“I can still see what was happening,” Chandler said. He died the next year at a senior living center in Tequesta, Florida.

The bombing has long held different meanings for different people, the historian Emily S. Rosenberg wrote in her book “A Date Which Will Live: Pearl Harbor in American Memory.”

Some say it highlights the need for a well-prepared military and a vigilant foreign policy. To some it evokes then-President Franklin D. Roosevelt administration’s “ineptitude or deceit” and the unfair scapegoating of the military. Others focus on the “treachery” of Japan or the heroic acts of individual troops, she wrote.

Asked what he wanted Americans to know about Pearl Harbor, Chandler said: “Be prepared.”

“We should have known that was going to happen. The intelligence has to be better,” he said.

Lou Conter, who was the Arizona’s last living survivor when he died last year at 102, told the AP in 2019 he liked to attend to remember those who lost their lives.

“It’s always good to come back and pay respect to them and give them the top honors that they deserve,” Conter said.

Heinrichs’ father has been six times since 2016. The former tuba player on the USS Dobbin likes to go not only to remember those killed but also in place of his late band mates; his three brothers who fought in World War II; and the now-deceased Pearl Harbor survivors he has met.

Retired National Park Service Pearl Harbor historian Daniel Martinez said the circumstances resemble the early 20th century when Civil War veterans were dying in increasing numbers. Awareness grew that soon they wouldn’t be able to share their stories of Gettysburg and other battles, he said.

Martinez knew something similar could happen with Pearl Harbor survivors and recorded their oral histories. During a 1998 convention, he conducted interviews 12 hours a day for three days. The Park Service today has nearly 800 interviews, most on video.

“They remain as a part of the national memory of a day that changed America and changed the world,” Martinez said.

The Park Service shows some in its Pearl Harbor museum and aims to include more after renovations, said David Kilton, the agency’s Pearl Harbor interpretation, education and visitor services lead.

The Library of Congress has collections from 535 Pearl Harbor survivors, including interviews, letters, photos and diaries. Over 80% are online. They are part of the library’s Veterans History Project of firsthand recollections of veterans who served in World War I onward. Many were recorded by relatives, Eagle Scouts and other amateurs interested in documenting history.

The Sons and Daughters of Pearl Harbor Survivors gives presentations in schools and marches in parades to share the stories of their families. The California chapter has added six new members this year, including two great-grandchildren of survivors.

“When they’re all gone, we’re still going to be here,” said Deidre Kelley, the group’s president. “And it’s our intent to keep the memory alive as long as we’re alive.”

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Republished with permission of The Associated Press.

Former Miami-Dade Commissioner Eileen Higgins will continue her early voting push with several appearances across Miami alongside U.S. Sen. Ruben Gallego of Arizona on Sunday.

“As Miamians turn out for Early Voting, Commissioner Higgins will highlight her vision for restoring trust at City Hall, ending corruption, and delivering a city government that works for residents,” her campaign said.

“The day will feature a canvass launch, Early Vote stops, and a volunteer phone bank to mobilize voters ahead of the Dec. 9 election.”

Higgins, who is running to be Miami’s first woman Mayor, will make her first stop at 10:30 a.m. at the Mision Nuestar Senñora de la Altagracia church, located at 1179 NW 28th St., followed by a visit to Christ Episcopal Church at 3481 Hibiscus St. an hour later.

Then at 1 p.m., Higgins and Gallego will participate in a get-out-the-vote event in Hadley Park at 1350 NW 50th Street.

They’ll end the day’s tour with a phone bank stop at 4 p.m., the address for which, Higgins’ campaign said, can be obtained upon RSVP.

Higgins, who served on the County Commission from 2018 to 2025, is competing in a runoff for the city’s mayoralty against former City Manager Emilio González. The pair topped 11 other candidates in Miami’s Nov. 4 General Election, with Higgins, a Democrat, taking 36% of the vote and González, a Republican, capturing 19.5%.

To win outright, a candidate had to receive more than half the vote. Miami’s elections are technically nonpartisan, though party politics frequently still play into races.

Gallego, a freshman Democratic Senator, served in the U.S. House from 2015 to 2025 and as a member of the Arizona House from 2011 to 2014. He is a second-generation American, with a Colombian mother and a Mexican father, and the first Latino elected to represent Arizona in the U.S. Senate.

Florida’s political class doesn’t agree on much these days, but this week produced a rare moment of full-spectrum alignment. Every member of Florida’s congressional delegation — all 28 House members and both U.S. Senators — signed onto a single message to the White House urging President Donald Trump to keep offshore drilling away from Florida’s coasts.

That kind of unanimity is almost unheard of in the state’s modern political era, but it’s been the consistent position of leaders in both parties here in Florida.

The show of solidarity is rooted in a simple political reality: drilling off Florida’s shores remains a third-rail issue for voters across the ideological spectrum. Tourism, the state’s largest economic engine, depends on pristine coastlines. Military leaders have long warned that operations in the Gulf Test Range would be disrupted by new rigs. And coastal residents — Republican and Democrat alike — still remember how the imagery of the Deepwater Horizon disaster reshaped public opinion.

And nobody running in Florida in 2026 wants to be caught on the wrong side of this issue.

With national energy policy in flux and Trump weighing moves that could open new waters for exploration, Florida lawmakers acted preemptively, positioning themselves as a single block drawing a bright line. It also signals that the delegation intends to preserve the long-standing de facto moratorium that has held for decades, regardless of who controls Washington next year.

Now, it’s onto our weekly game of winners and losers.

Winners

Honorable mention: Tourism. Florida’s tourism sector heads into the holidays with the swagger of an industry that keeps beating its own benchmarks.

The latest statewide report shows Florida drew more visitors in 2024 than in any previous year on record. Domestic travel remains the backbone of the industry, but international tourism — which lagged behind for years — finally roared back, helping push total visitation into uncharted territory.

Local indicators back up the statewide spike. Orange County’s tourist development tax reports continue climbing, with October’s haul marking yet another year-over-year increase. The stronger the tourist development tax numbers, the more room Orange County has to invest.

For tourism executives, the trajectory validates years of capital investment, marketing overhauls, and infrastructure upgrades. And for political leaders, particularly those who have staked their credibility on Florida’s economic climate, the industry’s performance provides a powerful proof point.

Plenty of sectors nationwide are wobbling as 2026 approaches. Florida tourism isn’t one of them.

Almost (but not quite) the biggest winner: Alex Andrade. For months, the Pensacola Republican has argued that the Gov. Ron DeSantis administration improperly siphoned $10 million in Medicaid settlement funds into the Hope Florida Foundation — money that was then routed into political efforts aligned with the Governor and now-Attorney General James Uthmeier.

The administration pushed back hard, insisting the diverted money wasn’t actually Medicaid-related and therefore wasn’t subject to federal pass-through requirements. But a new repayment from the state to the federal government shows Andrade had it right from the beginning.

Fresh financial records reveal the Agency for Health Care Administration (AHCA) calculated its federal repayment using the full $67 million Centene settlement — including the disputed $10 million the state insisted wasn’t Medicaid money at all. Florida has now paid back 57% of the entire settlement, amounting to $38 million, exactly what it would owe if every dime belonged to Medicaid.

That directly undermines the state’s original defense and aligns precisely with what Andrade’s investigation uncovered: the $10 million that went to Hope Florida should have stayed in the Medicaid program.

The repayment also adds a striking new twist to a scandal that has already damaged the Governor’s Office, fueled a grand jury probe, raised red flags about political interference in Medicaid dollars, and helped derail Casey DeSantis’ once-serious positioning for 2026.

For Andrade, who repeatedly pressed AHCA for answers and was stonewalled at every turn, this is a confirmation that his instincts, his oversight work and his insistence on accountability were justified.

The biggest winner: Rick Scott. Scott is riding high after a policy summit that managed to seize the spotlight as Washington still grapples with several issues before the close of 2025.

The event showcased ideological discipline, message testing and a reminder of Scott’s continued push to establish himself as one of the most effective architects of the GOP’s internal conversations.

The agenda ranged widely — health care, space, finance, foreign policy, party identity — but the through line was Scott’s effort to present himself as a central bridge between Senate Republicans, national conservatives and Florida’s rising stars.

The summit generated a steady drip of headlines. A pollster told attendees that Americans have soured on the Affordable Care Act, giving Scott and his allies fresh fodder for long-standing arguments about the law’s durability. Members of Congress used the forum to sketch out what an alternative might look like, offering a substantive policy moment at a time when the party often struggles to define next steps.

There were also unmistakably political flashes. Byron Donalds used the gathering to continue Republicans’ critiques against Cory Mills’ scandals. Randy Fine issued stern warnings about rising antisemitism. And members of the House Freedom Caucus emphasized the value of having Scott as their conduit to the upper chamber.

All of it underscored the same point: Scott convened a room full of people who matter, and they showed up ready to continue pushing the conservative conversation forward.

Losers

Dishonorable mention: Trajector Medical. A recent investigative report is painting the company as a predatory “claims-shark” exploiting disabled veterans.

According to the latest reporting, Trajector Medical has been charging veterans as much as $20,000 for help with disability benefits — even though such assistance is legally supposed to be free.

The price tag comes tied to promises of help filing claims, but veterans who relied on the firm describe an entirely different reality: pre-filled application forms submitted on their behalf without their explicit involvement, vague “medical-evidence packets” of questionable origin, and invoices that pop up only after the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) increases a veteran’s disability rating.

The company uses a software tool — reportedly dubbed “CallBot” — to monitor clients’ benefit status through the VA hotline. When the system detects a payment increase, it automatically bills the veteran. One veteran NPR interviewed said he was charged $17,400 after his VA rating rose, even though he’d done much of the paperwork himself.

Federal law prohibits entities from charging for assistance in preparing or filing initial VA disability claims, which means Trajector’s business model appears to run entirely contrary to that protection. The company, however, says those restrictions don’t apply because it only does a limited amount of work during the process.

The VA had previously sent the company warning letters in 2017 and 2022 demanding it stop offering paid assistance — but Trajector apparently ignored those warnings and kept operating.

And it appears other companies like it are engaged in similar practices.

Disabled veterans, many of whom rely on VA benefits for basic medical care and financial stability, report feeling misled, exploited and trapped by aggressive billing practices. Former employees of Trajector also admit the firm drifted away from its original mission of helping vets and turned into a profit-driven debt-collection operation.

In a state like Florida — with a large veteran population — a company that claims to help veterans but instead levies steep, legally dubious fees is about as far from “serving those who served” as you can get.

Almost (but not quite) the biggest loser: Jay Collins. A few weeks ago, Collins’ issue was donor confidence due to Ken Griffin’s refusal to buy into DeSantis’ pitch to back Collins, showing he couldn’t land the kind of marquee support a DeSantis-aligned Lieutenant Governor was supposed to lock down effortlessly.

Now Collins is grappling with a problem even more glaring: the Governor himself can’t be counted on to show up for him.

Collins’ latest telephone town hall was supposed to feature DeSantis — a show of strength for a candidate who needs one badly. Instead, Collins got stood up. Again. And this wasn’t a minor scheduling hiccup. As Florida Politics reported, DeSantis’ schedule throughout the day Wednesday was plenty open during the time of the call.

It leaves one wondering how committed the Governor really is to lifting Collins in the 2026 field. Collins desperately needs a visible, unmistakable show of support from DeSantis to compensate for weak polling, slow fundraising and a late entry that already left him miles behind Byron Donalds. When your entire path to viability rests on the idea that the sitting Governor is clearing a lane for you (and we’re not even sure that would be enough), getting publicly ghosted undercuts the whole premise.

You can survive donor skepticism. You can sometimes survive weak early numbers. But surviving your own patron repeatedly failing to show up? That’s a much harder lift.

The biggest loser: Black bears. The hunt is on, with the state moving forward with a revived bear hunt that began Saturday.

Wildlife officials continue to insist the hunt is a management tool, citing increased human–bear encounters and steady population growth.

But environmental groups and community activists argue the data doesn’t justify an organized kill, especially as development pressures, shrinking habitats and inadequate trash management drive most conflicts.

Whatever the policy rationale, the optics are difficult to ignore. Florida spent decades pulling its black bear population back from the brink. Conservation efforts worked, numbers rebounded, and the species again became a fixture in Panhandle forests and Central Florida greenways.

Lawmakers eager to show they’re taking action have leaned hard into the hunt as a symbol of decisive wildlife policy. The bears, once again, are on the losing end of a fight they never chose.