It's an Honor

Daria, one of the newest members of the National Junior Honor Society

Last night Daria was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society. We are super proud of Daria and her achievements. Ken, who was also a member of the Honor Society was excited that she is carrying on the legacy. Eligibility in the Honor Society is based off of Scholarship, Leadership, Service, Character, and Citizenship.

Sometimes we don't realize how much and how well our kids are doing. Once Daria was nominated, we were required to turn in a list of things she has accomplished; service she has provided, leadership opportunities, skills she has excelled at, and any other activities that fall under the Honor Societies umbrella of excellence. As we started putting this list together I was amazed at how much she has done. I think every person should sit down and make a list of things they've done, we might surprise ourselves. We might feel better about ourselves if we realized how much we really do.

This reminded me of something I failed to post. When Daria was in 6th grade she was awarded - The Presidential Education Award for Outstanding Academic Excellence (this was based off of academic and leadership skills). Only a handful of students (I'm guessing about 24 out of the whole grade) received this award which they were not aware of until the award was presented.

Daria holding her Presidential Education Award, signed by the President of the United States

Historic Flight

Our group

On Friday March 30 I had the incredible opportunity of flying in a WWII B17 bomber along with several WWII veterans.

Who would have ever thought?

Julee the daughter of Pete, a 95 year old WWII veteran,  B-17 pilot,  and former prisoner of war, organized a flight on a B17 and B24 with the Collings foundation for a handful of WWII veterans. The Collings Foundation maintains historical vehicles and aircraft. They fly these planes all over the United States visiting air shows and airports. The flight would take off from an air base south of downtown, and fly to another local airport. Initially I was to photograph the veterans landing or taking off. It didn't matter which end I was on. Three days before the flight Julee called and told me I was "on" the flight and could choose which plane I wanted to ride on. Really? How many times in your life do you get a choice like that!? and when you do how in the world do you "choose" between two pieces of history?

About this time I told Ken I would be flying with the veterans to which he responded half joking, and half serious, "What if it crashes?"  Huh? In my excitement I really hadn't thought about that and now the seeds of superstition floated through my brain. After all, these planes which made it through combat missions are 70 years old. So I kindly finished the taxes so at least THAT would be out of the way in case I didn't come home on Friday.

Fortunately it was decided for me which plane I would be on. The B17 would come in with the engines hot and Collings doesn't like shutting them down to start back up. So my job was to hop on the B24, photograph the veterans who would be on that plane, and then make it over to the B17. All that preparation and they turned off the engines anyway. But I didn't mind.

My experience was amazing and funny at the same time. My instructions after getting off the B24, were to stand near the tip of the B17 wing and wait until the engines were running. This is a process. There are 4 engines. The crewman makes sure the propeller on the first engine is in the right position, gives the signal to the pilot who turns that engine on, then he does the same for the next 3 engines. I enjoyed watching all of this of course. Once he was done he signaled for me to follow him to the rear of the plane near the tail to the hatch door we would enter. I took no thought of this until I was directly behind the powerful burst of wind from the engines which about blew me over, cameras and all. I felt like I was trudging through cement trying to stay standing as I made it to the hatch. I'm sure the crewman was amused at least the smile on his face made it seem that way. Somehow I don't remember seeing him having such a hard time walking to the door. After finally making it to the hatch door, he instructed me to face forward with my back against the hatch (or plane), reach up to the top of the doorway and pull myself up. This is simple as long as you can do pull-ups, something I stink at even without a backpack on and cameras around my neck. Added to the issue of being pull-up dysfunctional, the incredible wind current from the engines was blowing my t-shirt up to my face and my hair was in my eyes. You have to visualize this as the crewman was not yet in the plane. I was facing him and he was facing me trying to help as I struggled with cameras, and a air filled t-shirt with my hair in my face. Not a pretty site, then again, I'm getting on a bomber, not an ice skating rink.

There are no real seats on a bomber (excluding the pilots, radioman, and front gunner area) more like cushions on the floor or you find a nice comfortable spot on the steel floor between the ribs of the plane's interior. Surprisingly the floor contains seatbelts - not like what we have today, but the old quick release military type seat belts.

example of the seat belt, although ours did not have the leather piece.

Before I go on here is a little information on the veterans who were on the flights.

Pete.  As I mentioned Pete is 95 years old. He served as a B17 pilot in the Eighth Air force. His last mission was on "Black Thursday." That was our attempt to bomb the ball bearing factories in the city of Schweinfurt which was one of Hitler's most highly defended targets. The mission didn't go as well. Over 60 planes would be shot down. More than 600  airmen were killed or captured. Pete was one of those who was captured and remained a prisoner of war for a year and a half.

Ike, a Navy veteran. They say never to trust a sailor because you never know when they are telling the truth. This is accurate with Ike, he was barely 16 when he lied about his age to join the service.

Bob, an Army veteran. He was flying in honor of his brother in-law who was a B17 crewmember.

RB, a B17 ball turret gunner who was shot down on Valentine's day 1945.

George, another B17 ball turret gunner, shot down and remained a prisoner of war for 15 months.

Renard, a B24 top turret gunner, shot down and remained a prisoner of war for 11 months before escaping. It should be noted that while Renard and George did not know each other then, they found out that they were held in the same prison camp during the same time. It was during a forced march that Renard and a few others made a successful escape.

Walter, a B24 tail gunner. Thankfully he made all of his missions without being shot down.

Martha, a Korean Air Force veteran, flying in honor of her late husband who served in the Navy during WWII and in the Air Force for Korea and Vietnam.

Bobby, another Army veteran.

Carl, a Korean Air Force veteran.

The process of flying WWII veterans is one thing, getting them on a plane like this is another. There are no stairs or jet ways to make getting on easy. Each veteran was carefully loaded in and positioned on the floor with promises that we would help them get back up from a floor seated position. In our safety briefing we were told that we must stay buckled until we were up in the air and get the "thumbs up" sign signifying that we could go ANYWHERE we wanted on the plane excluding the tail gunner position.

In a B17, you are literally sitting in a iron or steel shell of  a plane. There is no insulation so the roar of the engines is loud, but not as loud as it is standing outside of the plane. Fortunately for the veterans all they had to do was turn their hearing aids off. As for me I was glad I brought earplugs. We taxied down the runway, which I wouldn't have known since there are no windows near the floor. The closest windows to me were the waist guns but you would have to be standing to see out of them. The crewman sitting by me mouthed the words "It's about to get really loud."
"What? I can't hear you!" I thought, and at that moment we got the thumbs up that we could unbuckle and move around the plane. WHAT?! we are in the air? For the inexperienced bomber flight newbie that I am I learned something that I never considered due to my experience being limited to commercial airplanes. First, these planes are NOT fast. According to Boeing the top speed is 287 miles per hour with a cruising speed of 150. George said they cruised at 150 but would drop out of the sky at 145. Considering that my van can go 160 miles an hour that's not real impressive. Because they are not that fast and do not incline on takeoff as sharp as a commercial plane, I never experienced any inertia so I had no clue we even lifted off. Add to it not being able to see out of the window really messes with your sense of orientation.

Now as for the veterans, who we carefully stuffed onto the plane, the moment they got the thumbs up, unbuckled their seat belts and jumped up faster than lightening. With smiles from ear to ear they maneuvered around the plane as if they were 20 years old again, taking pictures, looking out windows, turrets and hatches, crawling through tight spots, and squeezing through bombay doors (afterwards, George who is a lean 91 year old, said if he did all that bending and climbing every day he would be back in shape in six months! These men are so funny.)

I was thrilled to witness this moment with them. To fly with men who were there was a perfectly amazing humbling experience. I wondered what might be going through their minds, surely all the memories. I thought of the men who were shot out of the sky and tried to imagine the horror that must have been. I watched RB as he stood near his ball turret, leaning against the waist gun looking out over the land. His face was filled with a smile of complete content. I watched Bob smile as he took pictures. I watched Pete sit in contentment as he sat behind the pilot. Later I would witness Walter, George, and Renard climb out of the B24 with such excitement it seemed as though they just experienced the best day of their lives. Watching them taught me an important lesson. While war is an ugly thing, as human beings we are quite resilient and can make good memories among the difficult ones. There is some connection between men and women who experience, complete, or survive something hard together. There is also some connection with the tools they used, in this case, a ship, plane, tank, etc. The thought of touching and using it again brings some sense of satisfaction and a whole lot of great memories that turn in to smiles. In the case of these men, they had a lot of great memories of their crew and the missions that they came back safely from. The ball turret gunners remarked that usually the ball turret was the least desired position but they loved it because they had an incredible 360° view. This was the first time since the war that any of them flew on a bomber.

RB

Now, back to me. As soon as the veterans were up and about I hopped up to start taking pictures. Experience number 2 in a bomber. They are not stable like a commercial plane. To walk anywhere I had to hold on to something to avoid losing my balance. It's not extremely rough, but more like sitting in a small boat that ebbs and flows on the lake. It was difficult and I again wondered how these veterans did it without falling. I walked all over, up, down, turned around, in and out of places. Finally I found myself crawling under the pilots position to get to the front gunner position. This by far was one of the coolest spots. This position has a seat and is surrounded by a huge bubble shaped window. So you have this feeling that you are sitting in the air and can see everything in front of you. This is also the best spot to see the engines from. This was about the only time I was reminded I was on a very very old piece of  machinery. The propellers play a trick on your eyes and look like they are barely moving and you can see that the plates of the plane are quite old. This didn't bother me though as I was completely in awe of it all.

view of the right engines from the front gunner position

view of the tail through the top turret

front gunner position

Soon I found myself alone in the front gunner position and suddenly felt hot, sweaty and a bit clammy. That's when I realized that I did NOT feel to swell. I have been known to get motion sick in the car if I read or turn around. It never occurred to me that moving all around in different directions in an unbalanced plane might make me sick. Ike's comment on taking Dramamine on the way to the airport never registered to me either, nor did the mention of baggies being in the ammo boxes during our flight briefing raise a red flag for me. You might be wondering what in the world I did. Well, I'll tell you. I decided then and there that no way in this world was I going to go down in history as getting sick in front of seasoned WWII veterans on a B17. I used all the energy I had to mentally convince myself that I felt just fine. Really, that's the truth. I also tried to get back to the radio room where Pete was as quickly as possible. I knew there would be fresh air there. Behind the pilot is a top turret and behind that is located the radio room. This is where a top hatch is located. Collings left that open for us and told us we could stick our head out of it if we would like. That was super cool except I was too short to really get all of my head out but I did get a good shot of the tail from that position. Here I stood, breathing in the fresh air, smiling at Pete as if nothing was wrong, convincing myself that I felt fine, forcing myself to take a few photographs. Soon we got the signal that it was time to be seated. There I went, wobbling my way back through the swaying plane to my seat on the floor. Just like on takeoff, I never knew we landed, and I really couldn't tell we had even stopped.
Despite the slight motion sickness near the end of the flight, I enjoyed and soaked up every minute of this experience and would do it all over again in a heartbeat - with the aid of Dramamine of course. It really was an experience of a lifetime that I will  never forget. I am so thankful I was able to participate.

"If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things"

Every week we hold what is called Family Home Evening, usually on Monday nights. We have a lesson on a variety of subjects, sing songs, maybe have an activity or play games, or study the scriptures, and go over our calendar. Tonight Daria gave an inspiring lesson on the proper uses of media (in all its forms) and technology.

I was impressed with her preparation. She reminded us that we are really blessed to have the media and technology advances that we do but must remember that we should use them wisely. Since media can be a powerful influence, to choose media that uplifts us and helps  improve relationships. She commented that she noticed since most of her friends now have Facebook (she does not, she really isn't interested in it yet), they don't communicate with her as often anymore. Balance in all things is the key.

She asked each of us to draw the form of media/technology that we spend the most time with. Then we were to make a personal goal on how we would use that item more wisely - maybe with the amount of time we spend or what we are doing on it. We cut out our drawings and placed them where we would see it at least three times a day. We have one month to work on this goal. At the end of the month we will discuss our experiences.
Daria drew an iPod touch that looks like the real thing. On the face it looked like the "notes" app, where she wrote a verse about making good choices. Ken drew his truck (to represent his truck radio), I drew my computer, and Dustin drew the iPad or Kindle to represent video games. I think the lesson was worth it.

On another note, Daria had the opportunity to take the SAT in January through the Duke Talent program (this is only to give them an idea of how they rank compared to college bound seniors) and she also made it into the National Junior Honor Society. She will be inducted on April 19.

Dustin builds with Legos more than ever. With each new creation I'm more and more impressed. His last large scale creation turned out to be a B-17 bomber from WWII. He built this out of his own stash of Legos (which he can never have enough of - and we are always looking for more) and his pure imagination. It underwent a few upgrades since the first design but the B-17 sports 10 crew members, waist guns, top and bottom turrets, engines, and front gunner. The letter "H" (as opposed to a "C") on the tail is my favorite.  He was so excited about his creation that we brought it up to show the WWII veterans during Spring Break. They were impressed, especially the B-17 veterans. I don't know how he does it. I can only organize Legos into colors and categories.

Ken is chomping at the bit to use one of his new tools on a woodworking project. He and some buddies attended a national woodworking show that was held here recently.

I had an interesting experience yesterday. Actually I've had two significant experiences in the past few weeks. The first was the experience of a lifetime to fly on a B-17 with WWII veterans. I'm going to save that for its own post because it was so super amazing.

Back to yesterday where I found myself speaking to three college classes at the invitation of a History Professor and WWII veteran and Pearl Harbor survivor Dave Hughes. I still can't really believe it and am writing it down so I can process the whole experience.  Eighty-eight year old Dave (who I know very well) has been going to this college for the past 9 years as a guest speaker. This  year he and the professor thought I should come along. I brought along my military tribute video that each of you watched last Memorial Day. I've remastered and streamlined the video and added new information - it is a ton better. These history classes have just completed the section on WWII, thus the reason Dave is speaking. Professor Watson used my video to open each class with. To my surprise, all three times, at the close of the video, Professor Watson who was visibly emotional had tears in his eyes.  His father served in WWII, and I knew that he and I had the same feeling about the importance of learning history. I was invited to speak after the video and then again after Dave's presentation. Just so you know, Dave is much more enjoyable to listen too. Never mind that he survived Pearl Harbor, his ship was attached to some of the most famous ships: the Enterprise, the Hornet, and the Wasp - earned six battle stars including Midway, and was sunk by torpedoes just a year after Pearl Harbor was bombed. Dave himself floated in the water off of the Guadal Canal for 12 hours before being rescued. He jokingly says that he and ten others formed a circle in the water and sang songs the whole time. Two of the men sang every song off key and that must have scared the sharks away! Dave is a hoot to listen to and can keep you laughing even during a lecture on a horrible war. I am not that captivating, but I was invited so I would do my best. Actually I really don't have a problem speaking in public, at least on a subject I'm comfortable with. What made me feel out of place was that I was surrounded by a Professor with a PhD who obviously knows history, a WWII veteran who was there and a room full of college students who are earning their degrees. I can't claim any of that, no PhD, no military service, no college, no degree - so it felt odd that "I" was the one speaking to "them." I do however have a passion for history, and I do know enough about the veterans I've interviewed and apparently my photography and work was enough to amount to something. Enough that Professor Watson said he'd like to see me back again.

On my drive that morning I thought about what I might initially say. I knew vaguely what the Professor wanted me to speak on. I know that for most people history can be a bore. It's good teachers like this  man who try to bring it to life for their students. I  won't go over everything I said but I will mention two things that I hoped the students would take away from that class. One was my experience with a man I worked for in High School, a Vietnam Veteran. I interviewed him for an extra credit project. It was then that I remember thinking "These stories need to be told." That is one reason why I do what I do. Secondly I told them and I write it here because I believe it whole heartedly. That is, that no matter what classes they  have to take, no matter what their degree is in or what they do with their lives, the most important class  or classes they will ever take, will be history. Whether you like history or not, it is so important to learn it and know it. When we know our history, our nation's history and the history of the world, it effects everything we do, how we vote, what type of citizen we believe we should be, what type of parents or worker or what we do for others. I truly believe that. People can know history and have different opinions. They have taken what they have learned and it has helped them make educated decisions about what they believe. If we don't understand history we are bound to repeat it and when we do know history we know what we can do to make things better. It was amazing to look out at this class, no doubt some will one day be our leaders, doctors, engineers, etc. and they shook their heads in agreement. I was humbled to have been there, it really was an honor and opportunity that I will never forget.