The Phantom Lives On

As I said earlier, Dad has been gone for six years now. My "baby sister" went to visit his grave on the anniversary. She left some flowers, and took some pictures.

About a year after Dad passed away, I ended up getting laid off from my job. I found another job rather quickly, but decided that before I started working, I would use some of my fairly generous severance package and take my family to Florida for a vacation. While there, we of course went to Disney World, and also took a trip around the state to visit my mother, my stepmother, and my sisters. While driving through northern Florida, I stopped to visit Dad's grave. The Phantom resting on his headstone was there then, too. Yes, it is getting beat up. It probably blows off the stone during storms, and someone always puts it back. That little plane has been there for at least five years, that I know of. And, it will probably be there for many years to come. I'm sure it will be there for my next visit, which won't be for a few years, probably. My (40-year!?) class reunion will be in 2012, and I don't know that I will be getting to Florida before that. But, just like Dad, no matter how worn or tired that little plane gets to looking, it will serve proudly until it can no more.

Hudson Landing

Recently, an airliner belly-landed in the Hudson River. By now, the whole world has probably heard about it. No fatalities occurred. Listening to the audio tapes of the final transmissions prior to "splashdown" will show that the pilot was cool, calm, and collected. The pilot in command was a fighter pilot in the F-4 for most of the 70's. I wondered for a brief while if he had been under my father's tutelage while learning to fly the Phantom. Although it would have been cool, I don't think that they ever met. Captain Sullenberger, according to information on the internet, flew Phantoms from 1973-1980. Dad was at the Pentagon prior to that, and retired from the Air Force at the end of 1973.
The flight crew of the airliner became instant celebrities: a guest appearance at the Super Bowl, appearances on late-night talk shows, and news magazines (printed and televised). I don't (in any way, shape, manner, fashion, or form,) mean to sound like I am saying "ho-hum, they landed in the water"; what the guy did was still incredible. I never met the guy, and I am still proud of him. He was doing his job, like he was trained to do it. And, without a doubt, his fighter experience/discipline was a factor in his calm, successful dealing with a problem. It could have been disastrous, but, because of his training and experience, it had a happy ending. Dad (and a host of other great pilots) would have handled it the same way. And, though I can't speak for Captain Sullenberger, I know that Dad would have been more than a little embarrassed at all the attention given him, no matter how great a job he did. He would have been grateful for the opportunity to serve. I applaud and salute you, "Sully". Your passengers and their families (and the world) do, too. You are, indeed, a fighter pilot.

Addendum

It seems that no matter where I go, what I do, or who I am around, I think about my Dad. Actually, I am reminded of my Dad. If I am around a bunch of rowdy foul-mouthed people, I reflect on how different they are from Dad. If they are well mannered, articulate, disciplined, I think that they may have been raised like Dad was. The word "discipline" is an interesting word. I see the root word "disciple" in it. As we are probably all aware, a "disciple" is a follower or adherent to a doctrine or way of life. I consider manners to be a strong doctrine in and of itself. So are patriotism, dependability, fidelity, selflessness and generosity to name a few more. I know that I "railed" about the person from Washington abusing (in my opinion) the right to freedom of expression. I read something today: (paraphrased) "If we can't tolerate the freedom of expression from someone whose causes we abhor, then we have no freedom of expression". So, I guess that person had the right to feel that way, but I thought it was a low-class way of expressing it. Other than that, I stand by my earlier post!
To continue, Dad was disciplined. He adhered to the doctrines and teachings from his youth, and abided by them his entire life. And, like his parents, he tried to teach the same values to his children as he had been taught. Some of those lessons were learned "at his knee", some learned "on his knee", and a few were taught "across his knee".

I'm Wearing my (Soap Box) Derby

As I was driving home from work today, I happened to get behind a Subaru from Washington (state) that had a message written across the back window that read, "If you will kiss my ASS OBAMA, I will be a good Christian and turn the other cheek." What a jerk. Is he/she upset because Obama won the election, because he is African-American, or just exhibiting the right to freedom of expression? I'm sorry, but when your "freedom of expression" may necessitate my explaining something to my kids or grandkids that I may not be ready to discuss at this point in their lives, you are crossing the line, in my opinion. (Luckily I didn't have any kids with me at the time. But why should I have to even think about it?) Why don't you JOIN the Country in supporting the guy who has the job of trying to fix the mess we have collectively gotten ourselves into instead of bitching and whining. I have already said that no, I did not vote for President Obama. But dammit, he IS my President and I will support him and pray for him. (I think) my parents were Republicans when I was growing up. I only say this because I remember in the 1964 election, I was "rooting" for the Democratic incumbent. I remember Mom indicating that she and Dad had tendencies toward the Republican candidate, Barry Goldwater. I also remember, in late 1963, when (Democrat) President Kennedy was shot. The news broadcasts did not yet know whether he had been killed or not, only that he had been shot. When Walter Cronkite announced that President Kennedy was dead, my mother, who was weeping, cried out, "They've got to be wrong!" and wept harder. I was in 4th grade at the time, and was home from school because I was sick. I remember the day well. Neither my mother or father EVER thought about belittling the man or his office. No, they probably didn't help vote JFK into office. But they damned sure supported him in his office, and didn't whine or publicly insult him by putting a lame-ass message across the back window of their cars. It just makes me sick and embarrassed that people abuse not only their right to express themselves, but offend everyone else who happens to be on the same road, or in the same room. I am not against diversity, it is one of the key factors in our electoral process. In the Pledge of Allegiance (remember it?) we not only swear our alliance to the flag, but also to the "Republic" that it represents. A "republic" is a system of government that is run by the people through elected officials. Part of the rules are that: if your guy doesn't win, the worst you can say about him(her) is that he/she came in second. Number two in a nation full of people isn't bad. Don't be a bad sport, support the winner. You still have a "say" in the running of the country. Quit bitching, wipe your nose, and help the rest of us fix the problems! I know it is cliche', but Love it or Leave it.
Dad did not join the military because of President Eisenhower or any other politician. He joined because, first and foremost, he loved this country and was willing to die, if necessary, to preserve the fundamental rights and freedoms for the rest of us. Even those bozos who abuse them.

Where does the time go?

This month will mark the sixth anniversary of Dad's passing. It sometimes seems that he has been gone much longer than just six short years. I guess it's because he was so much a part of my life. His influence has been a pattern (off-and-on) for the shaping of my life or, rather, the path(s) that my life has taken over the last 50 years or so. Even if I hadn't heard from him for a while, he was always there. So maybe, because he is thought about or spoken of every day, it seems longer. At the same time, it seems like just yesterday, or just last week, that we all assembled together for his funeral. Again, probably because he is in our thoughts daily, the memories of him are still "fresh" in our minds.
That is one of the reasons that I started this literary tribute to him: to keep (my) memories alive as well as share them with family and friends. I may tend to "ramble" in some of my posts, but I try to include something relating to Dad in each one of them because he really was (is) a guiding influence for me. I wouldn't be the man that I am, if not for the man that he was. (We miss you, Dad)

New "Flight Leader"

Today, I watched the inauguration of President Obama. He has, of course, been the topic of many discussions, conversations, and debates as of late. I know that my father, while he was alive, had high hopes and support for Senator McCain. A lot of things have changed in the years since he passed away. But one thing would not have changed. Dad would support the President, no matter who he/she was, with all his might, mind, and spirit. The fact that Obama is an "African-American" would never enter the equation. I was talking to my wife, and related (again) the story about Mom and Dad looking for base housing at Davis-Monthann AFB: While looking at the housing map, a woman pointed to one address and said that they would not "want that house", because the neighbors were Negroes. Dad immediately said, "We'll take it".

This country has undergone a lot of change in the last 40 or so years. I remember, even as late as the 70's, seeing signs in the rural South that said "colored entrance", and "whites only". I hope that they were just "left overs" from an earlier era, and had no real significance. But I also remember, while growing up (and not only in the South), hearing racial slurs and epithets. I was lucky. I was never taught bigotry or prejudice. Through the years, some of my best friends and co-workers have been something other than "white". Mexican, Indian, Vietnamese, Chinese, African-American, Japanese, you name it. Every "color of the rainbow". I am grateful to my parents for raising me to look at the person, not the "box they are wrapped in".

I didn't vote for Obama, but I support and respect him and the Office that he holds, and he will be in my prayers. I believe that he is a man of integrity, a gentleman, a Fighter Pilot.

Sure could use those air miles

My sincere thanks and appreciation to Guenter Grondstein for allowing me to use his beautiful photographs.

As anyone in my family will tell you, I have become "obsessed" with finding out about the planes that Dad flew. The one that I have been able to find out about continues to thrill me. I discovered recently that one of the model kit manufacturers made a model of the F4 that has the tail number that Dad flew in Viet Nam. Now I need to find one or more of the kits. Evidently, judging from the stars on the left intake, this plane has had some interesting encounters besides the one where Dad and the newby picked up a round from ground fire. I couldn't even hazard a guess as to how many miles this plane logged before finally coming to rest, her last assignment: that of guarding the gate at Nellis AFB in Nevada. Before that, she served in the Hawaii Air National Guard. If I could have the "sky miles" she has earned, I could probably fly to the moon. And Dad logged a good portion of those miles. Cool.