His Last Flight
The following account is about one man's last flight. A flight to fulfill a final wish and to remember the friend we lost.
We were instructed to take our seats in white folding chairs under a bright white canvas canopy positioned off the edge of a little grass runway. Slowly everyone took to their seats as a nine member Air Force Honor Guard stood at sharp attention. In a proud display of our American military, these nine men and women stood before their fallen with honor and respect in the simple act of a soundless stance. With all seated and ready the Honor Guard proceeded to move.
Silence fell as though the earth lost its capacity to produce sound. Both mechanical and natural sounds seemed to diminish as the Honor Guard slowly marched to the front of the tent. Only the ring of a forgotten cell phone would pierce the grim silence of the memorial service. Standing four abreast and facing each other, the Honor Guard produced a triangular folded American flag and started passing it along the line with quick, timed deliberate moves. Our nation's flag was presented in blue with the brilliant white stars reflecting the sun's warm light. When the flag was positioned at the end of their line, they started to pass it back along the line unfolding it as it went. Before long the flag was fully unfurled and presented for all to see. At this point I would imagine that it would be draped over a coffin and transported to the burial sight. But as there was no coffin at this memorial, they proceeded to refold the flag in a manor of fluid, crisp and choreographed moves. Running their white gloved hands along each fold to smooth out imperfections, the team members performed the folding maneuver with flowing grace. The last man to handle the flag tucked in the final fold and, taking great care in removing any wrinkles, would not release it until it met his satisfaction. At his completion, he returned the flag to his leader and the service continued.
Don was an aviator. He gave his life to aviation in both the military and in civilian life. He absolutely loved to fly and if anyone's blood was cut with av-gas, it was Don's. He once told me of some of his more hair raising flying adventures. There are few pilots out there that haven't experienced some type of event that gets their attention. Especially with the number of hours Don had flown. Weather and or mechanical problems had put Don down in pastures, roads and also a parking lot. Some of his forced landings resulted in aircraft damage and some did not. In his many years of flying Don had experienced things that could frighten a bird into walking, yet he continued to fly. Cancer would be what finally clipped his wings and only in death could he be grounded. May we hope that in our next existence, the flying only gets better.
Don had great enthusiasm in all forms of aviation. He not only flew airplanes, he built and restored them as well. His love for it showed in the finished product of his show quality Aeronca Champ and WWI replica Nieuport he built from plans. These are only two of his many projects and his attention to detail was impressive. He had great passion for flight and it was only fitting that a famous poem be read during his memorial.
High Flight
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
,I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew -
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
- John Gillespie Magee, Jr
Poems were recited, stories were told, and Don's last flight was drawing near. The Honor Guard was poised at runways edge, weapons in hand and ready for their salute. We all stood and waited for the three rounds of fire to come. Three quick short words would set the team in motion. READY…AIM…FIRE. An involuntary jump would emit from some as the volley split the morning silence. There were three quick bursts and then the soft somber sound of taps would draw tears as a well draws water. At Taps conclusion an Honor Guard bent down to a still seated widow and presented her the flag with poise, dignity, compassion and respect. He then stepped back and raised a white gloved hand to his forehead in salute but as opposed to the typical quick, crisp retreat of his hand, he slowly lowered it to his side while at all times looking her straight in the eye. To me, this was an impressive display of respect for the family of one of their own. I was never in the military, but men and women like this make me proud to be an American.
Three Aeronca Champs were sitting wing tip to wing tip being prepared for flight. Don's lonely little Champ was positioned away from the others and was also being prepared. The Champs were identical in design and differed only in color. All four pilots set their mixture, turned magneto switches on and swung their props by hand to fire off their engines. Don was particularly proud of his Aeronca Champ, a 1940s designed aircraft capable of carrying two people with virtually none of the comforts of modern day transportation. A simple design of metal tubes, wood and fabric covering, the Champ was simply built to enjoy the serenity of flight. Being scantly powered, great attention was paid in keeping the airplane light. Only items essential for flight were equipped on the Champ and an electrical system and engine starter were not considered essential.
As the aircraft engines came to life the four pilots climbed back into their cockpits and were soon ready to go. Don's Champ would be flown by another pilot this day. Don would simply be a passenger on this flight as his remains in ash would be taken aloft for the missing man formation.
For those who are unfamiliar with the missing man formation, here is a quick description. Holding out your right hand straight with fingers together, imagine that your fingernails are airplanes. This is called the finger-four and is typical of a missing man formation. As the formation passes overhead the slot just right of the lead, or the finger next to your pinky, breaks formation and climbs away leaving a hole in the formation. This represents the missing man and is the final salute to a fallen aviator.
The four Champs taxied to the end of the runway and turned for takeoff. With their throttles pushed forward and engines turning at maximum power, the formation took off in pairs. At altitude they formed into a finger-four formation and returned for the missing man pass. With the aircraft tucked in neat and tight, all eyes wet with tears were gazing skyward as the Champs flew overhead. Don's airplane slowly broke formation up and to the right leaving an empty slot in the flight of Champs. The other planes continued their flight path in the missing man formation before breaking into a landing pattern at the far end of the runway. Don's airplane returned to the field in a high speed pass and as the aircraft eased lower to the strip his ashes were released onto the grass runway below. Billowing grey ash trailed the plane the entire length of the runway and as it passed the crowd was clapping and cheering it on.
It's kind of a peculiar feeling to see what used to be your friend blowing away in the wake of his own aircraft, yet I couldn't think of a better way to end Don's last flight or a better place for his remains to be. This was his final wish. And he'll forever be there to soften the landings of his fellow aviators.God speed my friend. We will miss you.
