We left Missouri after Dad's return from Viet Nam, and went to Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. I remember that Mom and Dad had left us in Missouri with our grandparents while they shopped for a house. They found one that was just being finished, and called us to ask what color we wanted our bedrooms to be. I, being barely 14, of course said "black". My brother said "white". Since we had to share a room, we compromised on a shade of grey. After we moved in, and had gotten started in school, I met a kid that lived pretty close to us. He had just moved there, too. And, he had also moved from Missouri. And, there was only eleven days' difference in our ages. And, his dad was a fighter pilot too. Randy Parker and I became lifelong friends. Through thick and thin, you could usually find Randy and me together. We did all the regular stuff: fishing, bike riding, sneaking cigarettes, and in later years we rode motorcycles together, shared a school carpool, and generally got into or avoided trouble together. Randy's dad, (I think he was a Major when we met) flew the F-104 Starfighter, another one of the "Century Fighters". It was commonly referred to as the "missile with a man in it". Again, the Century-series fighters frequently served as test-beds for new aviation technology, and could be dangerous if one didn't have the "touch". Since Dad was gone a lot, and I spent lots of time with Randy, I also spent time around his Dad. In fact, his whole family accepted me into their world. Many was the time that I would be at Randy's house, and we would walk into the kitchen and dinner would be on. And almost without exception, there would be a place set for me. I got to be in on "family" conversations with them, and Randy's dad would be there to give me a little advice, if needed, and sometimes if we (Randy and I) had been up to, let's just say "mischief", I would be chastised (although gently) along with my cohort. At some point in time, our fathers both got to pin on their silver leaves signifying promotion to Lt. Colonel. Col. Parker invited my Dad and me to go fishing in the Gulf with them in their boat. I can't really speak for Randy, but I think he felt the same thing I did: It was just really "cool" to be out with our fathers, and even "cooler" that they had something in common. They were both Fighter Pilots. Neither of them ever really "bragged" about their exploits in the air, but I recall them talking "shop" while we were out in the boat. Col. Parker always had some type of "project" that he was working on. One time it was "nesting" tables for the family room. Another time he was making a fishing rod. I think it must have taken him days to finally get all the guides secured to the rod blank and wound with thread to hold them on. He would get one mounted (he put the rod in an electric drill to rotate the rod while he "fed" the thread onto the rod) and almost get it done, and the thread would break, or overlap. Finally, it was done to his satisfaction. I remember he built a wooden tackle box with drawers for different lures and plugs, etc. It was a work of art, to me.
There were times, while Randy was off at college, that I would just stop by the Parker's house just to chat and visit. I was (and am) that comfortable with them. I didn't always get to see Col. Parker on my visits, but when he was home, I was invited into the family room and we would just talk. About darn near anything. Work. Play. Women. And occasionally even a little politics.
Col. Parker passed away in 1994, a couple of years after I remarried. I was living in Utah, and my mother called and told me. I immediately called the Parker home to express my true sorrow and to offer my condolences. Mrs. Parker is still my "second mom", and Randy and I have been friends for 40 years now.
At Eglin AFB in Ft. Walton, there is an aerospace museum with many aircraft on static display. I am honored to say that the F-104 on display has Col. Parker's name painted on the side. That, to me, says that he too, was an exempliary pilot.
No, Col. Parker wasn't my father, but he was the kind of man Dad was. Honest, Brave, Patriotic, Humble, a Man among Men. A Fighter Pilot.
2 comments:
Thanks Rog, I had tears in my eyes as I read this. My mom and dad really considered you as part of the family and I appreciate you for remembering that.
Dad was (is) a great man who inspired me (although I strayed from the path a few times) and I always feel that as a part of him makes me what I am I have the responsibility to try to live up to his expectations to this day.
On the way home from his funeral, I told Mom we were lucky, in a way, that he didn't get killed in one of those Century Series fighter planes that he flew (the F-104 Starfighter was known as "The Widowmaker" in Germany).
It was then I realized that Dad cheated death almost every day in those aircraft at Mach 2 and came home just as if it was another day at the office. What a cool guy!
He and Sam were of a generation of real pilots with the "Right Stuff" that is rare in todays computerised, fly by wire aircraft. Stick and rudder guys at the speed of sound+.
Picture no autopilot, steam gauges, performance numbers figured out on the end of the runway on kneepad with a pencil and off you go in AB and hope you didn't end up at the overrun in a ball of oxidizing JP4.
These extreme aircraft were designed with sliderules and perfected with the blood of test pilots. No CAD or composites, just aluminum, rivets, kerosine and guts.
Both our dads tamed the beast many times and unfortunately it was their mortal bodies that ultimately let them down. That happens to all of us but at least they got to live their dreams at the top of the pyramid!
Roger,
I can't top what you guys have already expressed. I'm at work now and can't afford to read the whole thing (but that left eye was getting a little moist).
Your kind words are a true testament to these two great men, and as you document their lives, talents, loves, and relationships you make them immortal; you are ensuring that they will not be forgotten as time marches on.
So much of man's endeavors, especially today, are without honor, patriotism, or glory. The Fields and Parkers can both celebrate having patriarchs that are worthy of our admiration due to their selfless sense of duty. It is solely due to the efforts of these two men, and those like them, that we are able to enjoy the freedoms that we all enjoy.
I pray that the day will come again when we turn away from the socialist policies that endanger this country and, once again, embrace the true patriotism and sacrifice that endured with these two loving fathers, even onto death.
Know that Sam watches over you today, as Link watches over Randy and me. If you listen you can hear his consoling voice. Savor it while you hear it, and remember how you felt, as a boy, when he advised you, conforted you, and even disciplined you. Embrace and cherish his memory, but also remember to let him go occasionally, as Sam and Link have another fishing trip planned.
I guess when I go to the great beyond, all you'll remember about me is how I spilled your beer with every power-shift in the old GTO!
Rick
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