After visiting the airshow at Eden Prairie this weekend, it just makes me sad to see the veterans there.
Sad, because the stories, the history and the members of the elite group of brave souls are fading into history itself.
Meeting people that survived on the Oklahoma at Pearl Harbor. Meeting Dick Cole, one of only a few members of Doolittles raiders. Members of the Black Sheep squadron and of course the now famous Tuskegee Airman.
The frail bodies, hold so much history, and as long as younger folks like myself keep things alive, they will live forever and we owe it to them to do so.
Two things happened when I was there that really touched my heart.
1. I was wearing my WIX shirt and my Desert Storm Veteran hat while touring the hangar. One of the re-enactment people there, spotted me walking through, moved through a few people straight toward myself and my son. To my surprise, he stuck out his hand and we shook, then he said, "Thank you, Veteran and god bless you." I was stunned, but very happy that man put a smile on my face, as I said, "thank you back".
2. My son, Blake, who will be 4 in December and loves planes just as much as dad does, stopped by a table of wooden model airplanes.
Just prior to that we stopped by the BT-15 which of course was just a basic frame with a few wires etc. etc. on it, as it is being rebuilt. My son was facinated by it.
Back to the table, my son, spotted the Wright Flyer. He says "daddy, look, that plane is being built too!" I said "No, that is the Wright Flyer". Then just as I was about to explain the plane to him, this nice lady, who bent down face to face with him and placed him on her knee and said, "Oh honey, that is the very first plane!, that is what started it all for us" Then she explained more and more, as my sons eyes got bigger and asked more questions on why the man was on the wing, and what the stick in his hand was for. She sat and took the time for about 15 minutes to talk to my son. She was a WASP in WWII. She loved the idea of my son, only 3 1/2 asking all these questions about the airplane he thought was broken.
My point is, that my heart aches to see those whom I have grown up to admire and idiolize slowly slip into the darkness.
But I feel that if we can pass this knowledge to those asking questions, like my son Blake, the memoeries will never fade and they will never be forgotten in our hearts or our minds.
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