Hell From Heaven...

Last night, as we headed out to pick up our daughter, I looked west and was blessed to see another amazing Utah spring sunset. 

I snapped a picture.

It wasn't until I added it to Instagram that the words, "Hell From Heaven" popped into my head. To me, it's what the picture looked like. Those three words mean something else to me, and to several other people.

They're the words that were on my father's B-17, his plane that flew over Germany in WWII.

It wasn't until I was an adult that I found the pictures and learned a little about the plane and its crew. My father had passed some thirty years earlier. I never tried reaching out to any of the crew members then, and it's even more unlikely any of them are still alive today. Their stories and the stories my father knew have passed with them. Hopefully, one day I'll get to hear them.

When I took the picture last night, it wasn't one of the most spectacular sunsets we've had. I wasn't even sure if I'd use it for anything. But, when I posted it to Instagram, it made me think of my dad, and that made me think of his plane, and that made me think about all the things associated with that.

Hell From Heaven...it fits the picture. And I'm sure, as those kids (basically...) were flying in that rickety plane, it did fell like hell. I have so much respect for them every time I think about what they did. Thanks dad, and everyone else who served.