I am fortunate to work for a company that supports military families -- brave men and women who don't view themselves as heroes, just doing their jobs. One of my colleagues has a son who is one of these heroes, serving in the Marines as a pilot who flies Super Cobras. Coming in from Camp Pendleton on a training mission, she arranged for some of us to go out and greet them upon their arrival. It was a day we won't ever forget.
It was hot. At least 108 degrees outside and who knows what on the tarmac. We were sweatin' it up, yet thrilled to be there. The pilots were extremely generous with their time, patient to answer questions the kids had, willing to lift them up into the cockpit and rummage through their $4 million aircrafts like it was a jungle gym at the local playground.
E was hesitant about getting in the plane at first, but did so rather reluctantly. He fussed and hemmed and hawed about being in the cockpit, so after a few quick pics, I laughed and told him I would have to remind him at 18 of this once-in-a-lifetime day and how he begged to get out of the aircraft. After some of the other kids got in and took their turn, he warmed up to the idea and readily got in the back of the plane as another little boy sat front and center. They smiled, waved, posed with their thumbs up and willingly got out to stand on the sidelines as another pair of choppers made their way to runway.
I am not sure he could take in the full magnitude of this experience, but he has these pictures to remind him. And, at the end of it all, the thing he feared the most (getting in the cockpit) was the thing he absolutely loved.
It was a perfect cap to the end of a busy week.
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