jazzeum
Four Star General
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2005
- Messages
- 38,444
I thought this article about Major Dan Rooney, a F 16 pilot with the National Guard, that appeared in today's New York Times Business section would be of interest:
*****
MY dad gave me great advice growing up: “Identify what you love to do, and then figure out how to make a living doing it.”
I took his advice and thought my life couldn’t get better, since I’m doing what I love. I’m an F-16 fighter pilot with the Oklahoma Air National Guard, a P.G.A. golf professional, a U.S.G.A. member and a golf course owner.
But during one of my business trip flights, my life took a detour.
I am no backseat pilot. Most of my friends are commercial pilots, and I know how good they are. So when I fly commercial, I relax and think how great it is to have someone else do the driving for a change.
I do, however, always notice the people around me.
I was boarding a United flight out of Chicago about three years ago, and I noticed a young Army corporal in dress uniform sitting in first class. I can tell you that none of us in the military can afford a first-class seat. So I figured someone had exchanged seats with him as a way to say thanks to a soldier home on leave.
I eventually made it back to my own coach seat, and within a few minutes we were wheels up. The flight was short, but it was bumpy and I knew the pilots were busy. Short hops are great for passengers, but they can be draining for pilots.
But when our captain came over the loudspeaker announcing we had been cleared for a final approach into Grand Rapids, Mich., his voice seemed too subdued.
After we landed, he came over the intercom again and asked us to remain in our seats even though the aircraft was already parked.
He paused for a few seconds and then in a very quiet voice he told us that on board this plane were the remains of Cpl. Brock Bucklin. His twin brother, Cpl. Brad Bucklin, was accompanying his brother home from Iraq. The captain asked us to remain seated as a sign of respect until the honor guard that was waiting on the tarmac could complete its work.
In combat, you see destruction. And I’ve flown a lot of missions. But this was death up close as I watched the honor guard remove a flag-covered casket from the cargo hold. It was up close and personal as I watched that soldier from first class stand with his family on the tarmac. It was up close and personal when I saw a family waiting for Brock. And it was up close and personal when I saw a little boy waiting for his dad.
I was watching my worst nightmare, thinking of my own family. And I couldn’t imagine their grief.
About half of the passengers got off the plane. Maybe they had some place to be. Those of us who stayed on board were quietly overcome with emotion.
I remember waking my wife out of a sound sleep, and telling her that my life had changed and I had a new mission. I was committed to help our military families.
So what I did was start FoldsofHonor.org, which gives scholarships to the spouses and children of soldiers killed or injured while serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. During Labor Day weekend, we collect one extra dollar in green fees from thousands of public golf courses that participate in the foundation’s Patriot Golf Day. This money is used to benefit our most deserving families.
That little boy waiting on the tarmac for his dad was our first recipient. His name is Jacob.
I hope he grows up strong and has a good life. And I know that everyone on that United flight to Grand Rapids wishes him the very same thing.
By Dan Rooney, as told to Joan Raymond.
*****
MY dad gave me great advice growing up: “Identify what you love to do, and then figure out how to make a living doing it.”
I took his advice and thought my life couldn’t get better, since I’m doing what I love. I’m an F-16 fighter pilot with the Oklahoma Air National Guard, a P.G.A. golf professional, a U.S.G.A. member and a golf course owner.
But during one of my business trip flights, my life took a detour.
I am no backseat pilot. Most of my friends are commercial pilots, and I know how good they are. So when I fly commercial, I relax and think how great it is to have someone else do the driving for a change.
I do, however, always notice the people around me.
I was boarding a United flight out of Chicago about three years ago, and I noticed a young Army corporal in dress uniform sitting in first class. I can tell you that none of us in the military can afford a first-class seat. So I figured someone had exchanged seats with him as a way to say thanks to a soldier home on leave.
I eventually made it back to my own coach seat, and within a few minutes we were wheels up. The flight was short, but it was bumpy and I knew the pilots were busy. Short hops are great for passengers, but they can be draining for pilots.
But when our captain came over the loudspeaker announcing we had been cleared for a final approach into Grand Rapids, Mich., his voice seemed too subdued.
After we landed, he came over the intercom again and asked us to remain in our seats even though the aircraft was already parked.
He paused for a few seconds and then in a very quiet voice he told us that on board this plane were the remains of Cpl. Brock Bucklin. His twin brother, Cpl. Brad Bucklin, was accompanying his brother home from Iraq. The captain asked us to remain seated as a sign of respect until the honor guard that was waiting on the tarmac could complete its work.
In combat, you see destruction. And I’ve flown a lot of missions. But this was death up close as I watched the honor guard remove a flag-covered casket from the cargo hold. It was up close and personal as I watched that soldier from first class stand with his family on the tarmac. It was up close and personal when I saw a family waiting for Brock. And it was up close and personal when I saw a little boy waiting for his dad.
I was watching my worst nightmare, thinking of my own family. And I couldn’t imagine their grief.
About half of the passengers got off the plane. Maybe they had some place to be. Those of us who stayed on board were quietly overcome with emotion.
I remember waking my wife out of a sound sleep, and telling her that my life had changed and I had a new mission. I was committed to help our military families.
So what I did was start FoldsofHonor.org, which gives scholarships to the spouses and children of soldiers killed or injured while serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. During Labor Day weekend, we collect one extra dollar in green fees from thousands of public golf courses that participate in the foundation’s Patriot Golf Day. This money is used to benefit our most deserving families.
That little boy waiting on the tarmac for his dad was our first recipient. His name is Jacob.
I hope he grows up strong and has a good life. And I know that everyone on that United flight to Grand Rapids wishes him the very same thing.
By Dan Rooney, as told to Joan Raymond.
