Dad's Badger Honor Flight, September 24, 2016

This post is for everyone who wrote a letter for my dad, Lewie Smith, to read on the way home from the September 24 Badger Honor Flight. Your letters were handed out as part of Mail Call, an Honor Flight tradition that volunteers told me was "the worst-kept secret."

We hid our letter-writing well; Dad had no idea they were coming. Once that fat envelope was put in his hands, he didn't sleep a minute on the way home after an exhausting 15 hour day. He read letter after letter from family and friends telling him what his military service as a Korean War veteran meant to them, and we both had to keep brushing away tears.

I wish I could include them all here. Dozens of expressions of thanks and respect like "We are all in debt for the years you gave up for your country," and "What must it have been like for your mom to see all three of her sons serve during wartime," had Dad shaking his head, saying "This is for all the guys that didn't make it back, we're all just standing in for them."

He smiled in wonder at "Thank you for always taking time for me," "You taught me to be a good, honest, and fair man," and "I always admired you," to name just a few from family members a generation or two younger. He laughed out loud at friends' notes like "Don't think this honor gives you an advantage playing cards" and "I've always been impressed with your story about the Commander who turned wine into hydraulic fluid."

For me, reading each person's perspective on Dad's service was one more gift of the privilege of accompanying him that day. Every single person had something unique to say.

There are a few photos on Facebook, but here's another collection from beginning to end of the September 24 Badger Honor Flight from Madison, Wisconsin to Washington, DC..

We were at the airport at 4:30 am, and by no means the first people there. It was crawling with volunteers, veterans, guardians, and family members.

When our plane pulled into the gate area at Reagan airport, we got a taste of the celebration waiting for us. The tarmac staff were waving flags, the baggage cart had a flag on it, a water cannon saluted us, and a crane held a giant flag over everything. We unloaded into the gate area and a blast of cheering, waving people met us, lined up from the first steps off the plan all the way to our buses. I think we were all stunned.

All day, wherever we went, people went up to Dad and all the other veterans, shook their hands, and said "Thank you for your service."

The first place we went was Arlington National Cemetery, for the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. We were told they do something special when they know veterans are in the audience. Their shoes are like tap shoes, with metal plates on them, and it turns out the special thing is a kind of dragging step on the turn.

The next stop was the Marine Corps War Memorial, which included a group photo and lunch on the agenda. Every one of the 85 veterans had a guardian (in blue shirts) with him; we had strict orders to stay by our vet's side every minute.  There were only male veterans on this flight; most were Korean or Viet Nam War veterans, but ten served during World War II.

I had no idea how large the Marine memorial was.

We went to the National World War II Memorial next. It is one of the visual anchors of the National Mall: huge and beautiful. JoAnn Mezei, my mom's cousin, joined us for a couple of hours, which made the day extra fun. JoAnn lives in the area but it was still a drive and a subway ride for her to get there--and she told us we'd picked one of the busiest, high security days ever with the opening of the African American Museum.

JoAnn grabbed the camera and took this one of me and Dad in front of the 4,000+ gold stars, each representing 100 military deaths in WWII.

After that it was back on the bus and further down the Mall where we found the Korean War Veterans Memorial. Dad said one of the guys who fought told him it was hell--you didn't know who the enemy was. Dad was a jet engine mechanic and feels humble about his role in the war...but it was an essential one.

We walked across to the Vietnam Veterans War Memorial and looked for the name of a young man from Marshall who lost his life early in that war, James Shepherd. Dad knew his father. We found the name with the help of a Park Ranger who had a thick catalog with the key to finding the right panel and the number of lines down. One of the Honor Flight volunteers was helping people, too, with an app on her phone.

Then it was back on the buses for one more stop before going back to the airport: the Air Force Memorial. Each bus had a tour guide. Ours was Niki Sollinger, a young woman from Madison now living in DC, very involved as a Badger Honor Flight volunteer.

Dad said the Air Force Memorial was his favorite, I'm guessing because he was in the Air Force. The soaring pillars represent the missing man formation.

It was hard to see Dad in a wheel chair all day, but we were both grateful to have it. He couldn't have done it otherwise. The Honor Flight organization has dozens of them, donated by businesses. Every dollar spent on the Honor Flights is a donation. There are no paid employees. For this particular one, and the one scheduled for October 22, the cities of Sauk City and Prairie du Sac raised ALL the money, which is $200,000 plus. That was a story in itself, told at our orientation a couple of months ago.

At the Washington Reagan National Airport, we were met with lines of cheering people again, including a group dancing to Big Band music as we waited to get on the plane. They tried to get some of the vets to dance with them, but there weren't any takers. One of the tour guides took them up on it.

Back at the Dane County Airport, we were met with the most enthusiastic crowd of all--friends and family and Badger Honor Flight supports. You cannot imagine what it felt like to come home to that. Thank you all so much.