Into the Wild Blue Yonder

Dad Air Force

The last time my father flew on an airplane was August of 2000 when we first began our travels together in search of Fayette. My dad is definitely no novice when it comes to flying the friendly skies. He served for five years in the U.S. Armed Forces.

Folded neatly in a large plastic storage container, tucked inside my hallway closet, are the two uniforms my father wore during his military service. The older of the two uniforms was worn for four years in the Army Air Corps, and the other was worn for his final year of service in the U.S. Air Force.

Not long ago, I asked my father to share with me the particulars of his job assignment in the military. My dad was a radar tech assigned to the crew of a B-25, then to the crew of a B-50 aircraft. He explained in depth the routine followed time and time again for simulated bombing exercises conducted as training missions for the crew. He mentioned something about the bombardiers barking out a directive to the pilots to set the PDI (Position Direction Indicator), and how after the task was performed the pilots responded back with their directive to proceed. Then there were details about a joystick device and cross-hairs on a radar screen, computer activation and the inevitable bombs away. At least that’s how I heard it.

I’ll be perfectly honest … I have been dreading Day #1 of Fayette Quest 2013, “Travel Day,” ever since I booked our flights many months ago. The logistics of changing planes from one concourse to another at Dulles International Airport in less than an hour with my 83-year-old father have made me a “Nervous Nelly.”

It takes time just to get off the plane, let alone the journey one must make from point A to point B. Escalators, moving walkways, more escalators, a train – my stress level had hit Defcon 1. How easy it would be for my father, or even myself, to mis-step just once and break a bone or dislocate a joint in the process. All the while, the voices of my older siblings screeched in my head, “You killed our father!” Would they ever forgive me?

We arrived at our gate with time to spare.

Oh me of little faith. When will I learn to let go and trust? This adventure was meant to be. Time to sit back and enjoy the ride.


All photographs and blog copy copyright 2013 Linda S. Sanders

One thought on “Into the Wild Blue Yonder

  1. Smiling re: the “voices that screeched in your head. Eager for you to write more of this journey!

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