Honor Flights experience made vets feel special
Today, I want to tell you about an incredible experience but I don’t exactly know how to do it. I have started, stopped, and started all over numerous times. I guess the best way to go about it is to tell my story the way I experienced it. I am sure other people had their own reaction coming from their experiences and their memories. So this is what I saw, what I felt, and what I experienced.
It was early Sunday morning on Aug. 8, 2010, that my daughter, Karen Cole, picked me up and we headed for the Spokane airport. We were to meet at 9:30 a.m. to join the other members of the Honor Flight going back to Washington, D.C.. Thirty-five veterans had been chosen to take the trip to see the World War II Memorial.
When I walked in the airport I saw the other 34 veterans gathered to take the flight. Some were in wheelchairs, some with walkers, and a few with canes. I would guess the age range of all the veterans was 78 to 91. I expected the vets to be there but I didn’t expect to see the number of “guardians” who had volunteered to go along to offer any assistance and see that every need of these veterans was met. These people paid their own way, gave of their time, all free of charge. Karen, my daughter, was my guardian.
I was amazed by the number of people who came to the airport to wish us well. I cannot speak for the other members of the flight but it always embarrasses me when someone says to me, “Thank you for your service” or “Thank you for what you did.” I feel, like most vets I know, that we did what had to be done and that is what being an American is all about.
I was struck by the number of young people that had come to see us off. I recall one little boy that walked up to me, stuck out his hand, and said, “Thank you.” His father said, “He doesn’t know a lot about what went own during the war but I can assure you that he will because we will teach him what it meant for him and our nation.” Another young person handed me a picture frame with red, white and blue colors. On the back were these words, “We hope you enjoy your Honor Flight trip. Thank you for your service to our country.” I found that the frame was made by the Lamanna family and my frame was made by Luke. It was with these young people that I discovered I was developing some sort of eye condition.
Before taking off, we all were handed an envelope that contained several letters from school children of varying ages. I wish I had space to share them all but I have chosen one from a third grader. It reads, “Dear Veteran, thank you for serving our country. My name is Ashley Rivera. I’m in the third grade at Windsor Elementary. I hope you have a nice Honor Flight trip to Washington, D.C. Thanks for saving our country — Ashley Rivera.”
It was almost flight time, we gathered all our material, and headed for security. This is something I dreaded because I hate taking off my shoes just to put them back on. When we got to security our IDs were checked and we were waved through a special gate and we were allowed to keep our shoes on our feet. I thought the shoe person in security saw all 35 of us old codgers and said to himself, “They may be able to take their shoes off but by the time they get then back on, their plane will be somewhere over Colorado.” I found that it was a courtesy they were showing us and it was accompanied by, “Thanks for your service.”
We boarded a Southwest plane and prepared for the first leg of our journey that took us to Salt Lake City. After we were in the air the captain came on the intercom and announced that an Honor Flight group of veterans was on board and he wanted to personally thank us for our service. There was applause that followed, which brought again the feeling of embarrassment and a resurgence of my eye condition.
To be continued.
(Sandpoint Furniture/Carpet One, home of The Ponderay Design Center and Selkirk Glass & Cabinets (208-263-5138), sponsors this column.)