
Boarding the USS Missouri at Pearl Harbor is an overwhelmingly emotional experience. It’s not just the weight of history bearing down—it’s the tangible feel of living memory, with past and present mashing together in the salty Hawaiian air. Nicknamed the Mighty Mo, this ship is more than steel and teak—more than the sum of her pieces; she’s a strong symbol of peace, fortitude, and the indomitable spirit of those who manned her.

The story of the USS Missouri is tightly woven into the tapestry of the twentieth century. Commissioned in 1944, she played a key role in the Pacific Theater, supporting Allied troops at Iwo Jima and Okinawa. She even served as Admiral Halsey’s flagship during the fierce Battle of Leyte Gulf. But September 2, 1945, was the day when the Missouri was the setting for one of the moments of greatest profundity in history: the formal Japanese surrender that ended World War II.

On her teak deck, leaders from across the globe were called to sign the Instrument of Surrender, laying to rest the deadliest war in the annals of mankind. As Jared’s Detours explains, the Missouri was chosen not only because of her strength and proximity to Tokyo Bay but also because she would be a symbol of hope and new beginnings.

The USS Missouri today is so much more than a relic of history; she’s a living monument. Since becoming open to the public as a museum in 1999, millions have set foot on her decks, attracted by the promise of connection to history, to sacrifice, and to the quest for peace. The museum experience is carefully crafted to be personal and immersive.

The USS Missouri Memorial Association says the new Pathway to Peace exhibit will bring the crew’s stories to life using personal artifacts, interactive touch points, and never-before-seen treasures donated by sailors and their families. Visitors get to hear from those who served, see their beloved possessions, and stand exactly where the world turned toward peace.

It’s the stories of people that bring the steel hull to life. The decks of the Missouri have witnessed moments of gripping tension and abject relief, from kamikaze attacks to the gravity of the surrender itself. Tour guides such as Cedrick Badua assist tourists in tracking these stories, where the gold plaque indicating the site of surrender, photos of General MacArthur with the Japanese delegation, and even the faint scars left by the war are noted. Jared’s Detours observes that even the slightest dents and repairs speak of resilience and respect, such as the kamikaze pilot’s burial at sea, whose aircraft crashed into the Missouri.

Maintaining this floating monument in top shape is no easy feat. The Missouri requires incessant maintenance—painting, deck maintenance, and resurfacing thousands of square feet of teak. Volunteers, some of them as young as 13, assist and are matched with committed staff to keep her shipshape, sanding, painting, and cleaning to make the ship a witness for future generations. Jared’s Detours states that the nonprofit relies on ticket fees, donations, and volunteer efforts to keep the ship shipshape. It’s all done out of love, as each brushstroke pays tribute to those who served.

Yet the spirit of the Missouri isn’t just about preserving memory—it’s about fostering reconciliation and friendship. Michael Carr, President and CEO of the USS Missouri Memorial Association, has been recognized for his work creating exhibits that respectfully honor both American and Japanese perspectives and for forging partnerships with peace museums in Japan.

As the Consulate-General of Japan in Honolulu reports, Carr’s work has helped establish bridges of understanding between the two countries. The Missouri remains a living testament that even the most profound wounds can heal, and that peace must be chosen, cultivated, and celebrated.

Commemorative ceremonies, such as the 80th Anniversary of the End of WWII, keep this spirit alive in vibrant color. The USS Missouri Memorial Association describes that such events honor the sacrifice, bravery, and victories of WWII veterans, and call upon all to ponder war’s lessons and hope for a brighter future. Moored just a ship’s length from the USS Arizona Memorial, the Missouri forms a moving circle of remembrance—one of tragedy and then peace.

Prowling the decks of the USS Missouri, it is impossible not to sense the presence of those who have been before you—sailors, commanders, and ordinary heroes who had faith in something larger than themselves. The legacy of this ship isn’t quantified in her cannons or her tonnage but by the spirit she represents: a spirit of remembrance, reconciliation, and a lasting hope for peace.