Memorial Day...Remembering All Who Served

 For us, this Memorial Day weekend played out like many before it. We rested, we visited my parents's, my father-in-law's, and sister's graves at the Farmington Cemetery, we had a mini-family reunion, and we did yard work (not necessarily in that order...). Something that made the holiday different for me this year was finding my father's WWII B-17 crew information.

Something I've searched to find for years.

I've had a few photos, but to see the names, do internet searches, find out more about the men, they feel more real to me this year. I only wish I could have contacted them before they all passed away.

Such is life.

The day always makes me wish I had reached out to many who served in the military before they passed away. My father's brothers, for example. I've blogged many times about the fact that the Taylor's sent five sons to fight in WWII, and two more served after them in other wars. Thankfully, they all returned. Others were not so fortunate. The more I think about the family's sacrifice, the more impressed I am and the more honored that I can call them my uncles.

Too bad they--and millions of others who served--are gone.

I'm sensing a theme: wishing I could connect with those no longer here.

I suppose that's what the day is for...the holiday to remember, to appreciate, to hopefully learn by their actions, their sacrifice. We sometimes forget that the people who risked their lives for not only their families but for those they did not know including generations that have now been born. I know the world my children know would be vastly different had those brave people not stepped up when the call went out and changed everything.

Memorial Day...to honor those who served and appreciate the results of their decisions.

Give Thanks...Honoring Those Who Flew

I saw the ad weeks ago, an ever-increasingly rare opportunity to see up close a vintage aircraft, but not just any planes, symbols of war and the quest to end a war.

No, I did not go. 

The planes, a B-17 and a B-25 were on display at the Logan Airport for a week. I had seven days to drive the twenty or so miles east (and a little north...) to see the planes. For several hundred dollars, I could have flown in one. Since we moved, traveling over the mountain into the next county has been an almost weekly event. Since gas prices have exploded and will likely go higher, like many of us, we've begun analyzing these casual trips...wondering if we really need to go.

On Friday, while out, I spotted the B-17 flying almost directly overhead. I heard the prop engines first, a sound you don't hear everyday. I snapped a short video of the plane thinking I might get to see it close up in a matter of hours.

Then, I thought about why I was going, and decided against it.

I'm not shy about telling whoever is interested (and even if they're not...) about my dad, that he was part of a B-17 crew during WWII over Germany. Thinking about going to see the plane, I could imagine myself looking up, taking picture after picture, and casually telling people, "That's my dad's plane." I might even get to talk to those in charge, those responsible for keeping the flying museums airborne and let them know as well.

I've had the opportunity of seeing one of these incredible machines up close. Years ago my friend and I drove to the Salt Lake Airport when one was parked there for the same reason...giving people rides. My friend and I actually got to climb inside. I still remember the feelings I had looking at that small space, the minimal surroundings, what horrors those brave men went through thousands of feet in the air.

No, I didn't need to go to get more pictures, to tell people my dad survived the war as a tail gunner in a B-17. I didn't need to go to somehow raise my status in the eyes of strangers. No, I stayed home and thought about the plane and the men who flew, their families who support them, and the people who still fly so that we may never forget. I'm grateful to those men, those families, those planes...

And I pray as few people as possible will ever do it again.