Michael Yuhas' lasting memory of Pearl Harbor is seeing Japanese pilots smiling as they dropped bombs on the U.S. naval base on Dec. 7, 1941. Yuhas, who says he lost 40% of his hearing that day, never thought he'd see Hawaii again after leaving the Army in 1945.
But on the eve of his 90th birthday in October, the retired steelworker from Woodbine, Md., got his wish to return, thanks to the philanthropy of 35 strangers, who contributed a combined $8,434 for his trip.
On a whim, his daughter, Michele Neugent, 61, of Shamokin, Pa., had turned to Wish Upon A Hero, a website where people can help one another directly.
"It was the best thing that ever happened to me," says Yuhas, who made the trip with his daughter.
The site was founded in 2007 by Dave Girgenti, a Cherry Hill, N.J., creative director inspired by what he calls the heroic acts of ordinary people after the 9/11 attacks and Hurricane Katrina.
Its largely anonymous members have granted more than 30,000 of about 46,000 wishes since its inception, according to a running meter on the website. Since the economic meltdown began, wishes have increasingly been pleas for groceries and gas money, Girgenti says.
"During major national disasters, it was people who came to the rescue first," says Girgenti, 37. "People want to help people."
Wishes granted on the site are as small as a pair of fuzzy socks to the ambitious effort to send Yuhas to Pearl Harbor, Girgenti says. Bre McGloughlin, 50, of Placerville, Calif., one of Wish's first members, says she tries to grant a wish a day, but the increased number of requests in the down economy is making it tougher.
"Some days I'm overwhelmed by how much need there is out there," McGloughlin says, "but through Wish I can say that I helped one person today."
Some of its 96,000 active users call Wish the "eBay of philanthropy" because it matches people with wants or needs to those willing to fulfill them, says member Cecilia Rice, 60, of Panama City, Fla. The "heroes" can grant a wish by placing money in someone's PayPal account or sending an item through the mail.
Rice says she has granted 830 wishes, from paying off someone's electric bill to providing a plane ticket to help a mother reconnect with the daughter she gave up for adoption.
"My wish-granting is selfish; it makes me feel so good," she says. Other donors, including Jason Zandri, 39, of Wallingford, Conn., say they like the fact that the site has no administrative overhead or interference. "For me, it lets me feel like I'm making a difference," Zandri says.
Everyone involved in running the site is a volunteer, Girgenti says. Online-ad revenue goes to pay for the servers needed to support the venture, he says.
The site, wishuponahero.com, has attracted some scammers, Wish spokesman Damien Woods says, so there are security measures in place. Documentation is required for expensive wishes, and users may have only one account per computer, he says.
Rhonda King turned to Wish after her 3-year-old son, Sean, lost his left ear in a dog attack. King, a 26-year-old married mother of three from Lebanon, Mo., asked for $178 for glasses for Sean that wrap around his head instead of resting on his ears.
Within two days of posting her wish in December, King learned the wish would be granted, after she provided her son's medical bills for verification. After buying the glasses, there was $20 left over. King tried to return it, but Girgenti told her that it was her money to use as she saw fit.
King sent the money to another child who asked Wish for stickers and a coloring book.
"In the long run, it feels better to help someone else," King says.
