I have spent a good chunk of today recalling the tremendous, emotion-packed weekend I just spent touring the nation’s capital with friends … and acquaintances who have become my friends.
I took part in an Honor Flight to D.C. to receive a pat on my back for the service I delivered to my country as a snot-nosed teenager, who ended up serving the Army in Da Nang, South Vietnam. Words are inadequate to describe the feelings that overwhelmed me at times during our quick-as-hell visit to Washington.
There were 45 Honor Flight participants on this trip. Many of them served in ‘Nam; others served nearby in places like Thailand and the Philippines. Others still didn’t serve in a war zone, but they too were eligible to take part in an Honor Flight. They came and received the love that Honor Flight organizers give everyone who dons a uniform and choose to serve.
Three events caused me to show my sappy side. The first was the Love Field Fire Department firing water hoses into the air in an arch to celebrate our flight as it departed the airport in Dallas; the fire department salute came after being applauded by onlookers as we entered the ticket area to prepare for boarding. We received countless expressions of thanks from those who clapped at us we walked through the airport. We each had “guardians,” volunteers who served as our helpers. If we needed wheelchair aid, someone to carry gifts, or just be there to serve as our companions, the guardians were there. My guy was a former Air Force airman who lives in Tyler. He’s now a dear friend.
No. 2 occurred on our arrival at Reagan National Airport in D.C. Staffers and onlookers began applauding us as we deplaned. So help me, I thought of The Gipper — and wondered if he would have been there to applaud us as well.
We scurried from memorial to memorial the first day. It was a busy time, but we got through it. Our hotel accommodations were first class.
The next day was much like the first day. Breakfast was served. We chatted with each other, had plenty of laughs over our remembrances.
Then we departed for Baltimore-Washington International Airport. Our return from BWI was set and we took off for Love Field, where event No. 3 awaited me.
We landed and were instructed to let the non-Honor Flight passengers depart first. We did. Then we exited the aircraft. I had told the jetliner captain to “have a good flight” when we boarded and thanked when we got by saying, “Good job, Skipper. The flight was great.”
While waiting at the gate we were instructed — again! — to stay put until we got the signal to head for the front door.
We got the “high sign” and headed out of the airport … where we were greeted by a huge throng of folks, chanting to the sound of a Scottish bagpipe band playing that Scottish anthem you always hear at these events.
They were cheering, clapping, thanking us for our service. My family was there. My sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter were there to tell me of their love for me and thanked all of us for serving our nation.
It was an unbelievable experience that I will take with me to the moment my time is up.
I am thrilled to have taken part in this wonderful moment.