Election Night 2008!

“Democracy is the process by which people choose the man who'll get the blame.”

~Bertrand Russell

“It has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except all the others that have been tried.”

~Winston Churchill

We are sitting in the living room tonight watching the election returns. I wouldn't say I'm a political junkie, but as a Poli Sci major once upon a time, I've always been interested in politics and the process through which we Americans manage to drive forward this great experiment called "Democracy."

I voted early today, pretty much like I always do, on the way to work. I don't want anything coming up later that would prevent me from getting back to town to vote later in the day. With my job, that's not really a remote possibility.

I hit the local polling station as usual, right at 7 am when it opens, and was surprised to see a rather large line waiting for the doors to open. I've been voting at this location since we moved into town in 1990, and I don't think I've ever had to wait, and I've never been more than the 7th or 8th voter through the door. Not this time. I was number 37. I think we have about 850 people registered to vote at our station, and in talking to the lovely ladies manning the registration books, we typically get about 570 showing up. I'm thinking with that turnout so early in the morning, the big rush at lunchtime still ahead, and the final three hours of 5-8 pm for the after-work crowd, we just might hit 700 this year. 82% of the eligible voters! That would be a heck of a turnout.

That's what really strikes me today. The sense of how important this election is, and everyone's determination to vote and be counted. Republican, Democrat, or Independent. This is each person's chance to weigh in on what direction the next four years will take. Someone once said, "Democracy is determined by those who show up." Today people are showing up.

All day long the news was showing pictures of long lines... some stretching several hundred yards in length, all waiting for a chance to make their voices heard in the choice of their government's leadership for the next four years. I think that's amazing. We've heard for years how election turnout has slowly deteriorated, yet on this day, people are standing in lines in cities all across this nation, suddenly ready to be part of the electoral process. It's kind of neat to be part of an election where people really CARE about the outcome, and are making a committed effort to have their voices heard.

Lots of people took leave from work to make sure they made it to the polls on time. Some, like me, voted early, some left work early to hit the polls before dinner. Jill came home from college just to vote; a bit of a way to go, but our gain in getting to see her and share in her excitement over her first Presidential election. My in-laws spent the day volunteering to working the polling station, working from 6:30 a.m. to well after 8 p.m., when the polls closed. Apparently you can't change poll workers once the election starts, so when you volunteer, you're stuck for the long haul. Now THAT'S dedication!

Obviously the differences between the candidates have engendered strong support on both sides of the major parties. There are also the differences of where we've been the last four years, and where we want to go, or even HOW we want to get there, over the next four years. But that's what's great about our system, you are supposed to have opposing viewpoints, and over the course of an intelligent debate of the issues, decide who will provide the course of action you think is best. Some people disagree with this and get incredibly irate that anyone would think different than they do. The problem is, when people DON'T have healthy, spirited debate, you end up like Germany or Japan in the 30's, or Russia and China in the 60's and 70's.

Watching the returns it looks pretty clear the Democrats are in for a big win. One big state after another is being called for Obama. Pennsylvania went right after 8 pm, and that seems to have been McCain's big hope in the Northeast. We're watching ABC and neither the pundits nor the talking heads can seem to figure out how any set of states can stack up and result in a Republican victory.

I've been getting text messages, e-mails and facebook comments from my family back on the west coast. Seems pretty clear that Obama is a clear family favorite out there, and the wife's family on this side of the Mississippi. People are getting really excited about what is happening tonight.

I think that is the most exciting thing about this evening... the idea that for the very first time, not only can our entire country conceive of voting for someone other than a White Anglo Saxon Protestant (or variant thereof), but it appears they will take that final step and vote him into office! In one fell swoop they are erasing the ceilings and barriers that have prevented people from achieving anything they were capable of because the of barriers of color, race, gender, etc. From this day forward, none of that should ever play a factor again, be it politics, business, the military, or the local country club. People may try to keep the old rules in place, but as of today, they, like the Berlin Wall two decades ago, are crumbling under their own weight and the force of progress.

It's 11 p.m. and as soon as the polls closed on the west coast, EVERY network just announced that Barack Obama is now the new President of the United States of America. Wow.

When you think about it, it's pretty amazing! Imagine any other country being able to make that jump - a completely peaceful, calm and fully accepted transition of power from one party to another. No fuss, no rioting, no protests, no coups. Incredible. Another thing that makes this nation great.

It has been a heck of a day. Not only for Barack Obama and his family, but for the entire country.

Best Care Anywhere!

You might be a nurse if you firmly believe that "too stupid to live" should be a diagnosis.

~Author Unknown

One of the more meaningful missions we carry out is Aeromedical Evacuation. As a cargo plane, we are uniquely suited to carry medical patients, and as a tactical airlifter, we can get into places that jets just can't go. We routinely practice landing on dirt runways and short airfields, all in preparation for combat delivery of troops and supplies, and the extraction of casualties under hostile conditions.

Having the mode of transportation is only half the solution. The other half is having the trained medical staff who are able to monitor and treat patients as we rush them from the craziness of the combat zone to established medical treatment facilities. Flying patients with a variety of wounds or illnesses across the country, or to another part of the world means dealing with a whole host of issues that ambulance travel never encounters. For one, you can't get out. It's noisy, the cabin altitude is generally higher than on the ground, and there are some illness or wounds that require special treatment when oxygen sufficiency is an issue.

The Air Force has teams of trained medical technicians and nurses who fly with patients during transport, monitoring their conditions, and ready to administer emergency treatment should the need arise. My unit has a squadron of medical personnel who have been as busy and tasked as anyone since 9/11, supporting the Global War on Terrorism.

About once a month we take a group out on a cross-country weekend, providing them an airplane and the actual flying experience with which to practice their craft. This particular weekend we were scheduled for a trip that would take us to Charleston, SC, spend the night, then fly down to St. Croix, in the Virgin Islands, then back home to Pittsburgh. All told, about 12 hours of flying in three days. Unfortunately, about two days from departure, a hurricane popped up heading for St. Croix, so that leg of the trip had to be drastically changed. Instead, our mystical planners came up with us leaving late Friday afternoon, flying to Houston, spending the night, flying the next day to Charleston, then back home. Not nearly the flying time we originally had planned, but some decent last-minute destinations where we could at least expect a good meal or two.

So Friday was a late afternoon take-off and a four hour flight to Houston. With the hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico, the low pressure system left us with a nice headwind all the way, turning a 3-3/4 hour trip into almost 4-1/2. The toughest part of the trip is always getting from the airplane to the hotel, and with a flight crew and aeromedical team, the task is all the more complicated. We had good arrangements though, and the Air National Guard unit we parked at had two vans ready and waiting for us, allowing a fairly speedy and expeditious trip to the hotel.

Once at the hotel, we checked in and met briefly to discuss plans for the evening and the next morning. Typically aircrew and medical crew go their separate ways. It's just the nature of the beast. Nurses are busy people and they typically breeze up to the squadron about the time they need to board the plane, and once airborne, they are pretty busy with their training. We really don't get much interaction unless we go out on a weekend trip. Even then the two groups tend to stick with who they know. Friday night was no exception. A bunch of the aircrew decided to head to a Cowboy bar called "Big Texas," and the med techs all went their own way. I personally was beat, and since it was already almost 11 pm back home, my body clock begged me to call it a night, which I did.

Apparently "Big Texas" was a great bar and one to make a note to visit on the next trip. The guys talked non-stop about their adventures at the bar most of the flight to Charleston Saturday. The weather was a bit better and with a tail wind all the way, we made it to South Carolina in about 3 hours. We were not so lucky with transportation this day, as we were treated to a bus ride by the base transportation folks, but the driver had no idea where the hotel was. After driving round and round for over an hour, he finally figured it out and dropped us off in front of a Hampton Inn just outside the base. Ominously, his last words upon our debarkation was, "Who did you piss off? I've been here for four years and never brought anyone to this hotel." Great!

Actually the hotel was fine, so besides the hidden location, we were still doing okay. Since we were in South Carolina, we decided to go for sea food, and headed off to a restaurant called, "the Noisy Oyster." Nice place, but the blackened Tuna I had was more sushi than steak, so I was pretty disappointed with the meal. Everyone else enjoyed theirs though, so what do I know about sea food?

Interestingly enough, over the course of the meal just about everyone on the plane ended up finding their way to the same restaurant. I guess the desk clerk did a good job selling the place. I hope he got a commission...

The highlight of the trip was the cab ride back to the hotel. As soon as we pulled away from the curb, the taxi driver, a gentleman of eastern-carribean african descent started ranting about Barack Obama, the Catholic Church, and that he-devil, John McCain. By the time we got up to full speed, this guy was screaming at us, declaring he was an ordained street minister, a volunteer policeman, and could speak in tongues, which he happily demonstrated for us. The four of us sat in shock for the first 15 minutes or so, but eventually got tired of all the yelling and started talking back to this guy, challenging his assertions, though mostly without success. (Did you know that the Catholic Church uses strippers in its services? Me neither! I'm definitely going to talk to my priest about it and find out which Mass has the good stuff!) I have never been so glad for the end of a car ride in my entire life.

Sunday had more great weather, and it was an easy 2 hour trip back home. The medical crew ran one last training exercise in the back, with some of their members getting an evaluation. One med tech, an extra for Sunday's mission, came up and sat on the deck with us, taking pictures and relaxing.

All in all, it was a good weekend trip. The plane stayed healthy, the weather was fairly decent everywhere we went, the hotels were nice, the med techs got their training, and the crew worked well together. Wish they all went so smoothly.

Feeling like a she's been hit by a car... No, really!

The hardest part of raising a child is teaching them to ride bicycles. A shaky child on a bicycle for the first time needs both support and freedom. The realization that this is what the child will always need can hit hard.

~Sloan Wilson

There's a certain feeling that only parents get to experience, and it's never under the best of circumstances. That feeling is the intense rush of adrenaline that suffuses your body when you answer the phone and someone informs you that a son or daughter has just been involved in a car accident.

I've been on both sides of this experience, once as a kid, and the other, twice now, as the parent. Experiencing the car accident as a newly minted teenage driver is nothing like experiencing a car accident as a parent, knowing what a car accident can do, and not knowing exactly what has happened to the child you've been taking care of for her entire life.

As the kid, I knew it was a bad thing that had happened, but it happened to me, and since I was aware of how I felt, everything else was no big deal. I now know that my parents were scared out of their wits until the moment they saw me and could see for themselves what was what, and thankfully, that I was going to be alright. Of course after they figured out I was okay, I found out they were mad enough to want to injure me themselves... (and were probably right!)

On Thursday morning I got the call from Laura. KJ, who was up at college, had been crossing a street on the way to classes and was hit by a car while in the crosswalk. Laura had received a call from a Campus healthcenter nurse, and was already racing up I-79 to Erie to meet up with KJ. Details were few and sketchy, but the bottom line was that she had been hit and thrown to the ground; depite her assault, she was healthy enough to get up and stagger to the health center. I'm sure anger and shock had set in, and she in no way wanted to lay in the street or stay with the man who had hit her, even if he was decent enough to stop and call 911.

Laura gave me the phone number for the healthcenter, and I immediately called. I was able to talk to KJ and found her sounding shaky, but basically strong. Finding refuge and care at the healthcenter allowed her to calm down and feel more in control and she was able to tell me how she was doing. Nothing obviously broken, but several bruises, including a whopper on her thigh where she'd been hit; and an aching head from smacking it on the pavement when she landed.

We agreed on her going to the hospital ER to get checked out, not only for the obvious injuries, but also for how she had weathered the blow to her healed pelvis, injured in a previous incident two years ago. That's where Laura met up with her an hour later. It was with much relief I received the best phone call you can get: the one that tells you that everything is going to be just fine, and despite all the trauma and disorientation your child has experienced, things will work out.

So, KJ came home this weekend. She was planning on coming home anyway on her own, but circumstances determined she'd get an extra day with us, cuz there's nothing much better when you are sore and aching, than to be in familiar territory and among loved ones who are dedicated to taking care of you and making you feel comfortable.

On the dark humor side of this story is the reality that this is KJ's second run-in (literally) with automobiles. My brother Dave recognized this and has issued this warning:

TAKE CARE AROUND KJ:

• Do not play golf with KJ when lightning is nearby.
• Do not go into brick buildings with KJ in earthquake-prone areas.
• When crossing the street with KJ, let her go first.
• Dissuade KJ from going into the mirror-sales profession.
• Given the choice to cross KJ's path or a black cat's, choose the kitty.
• On sports teams, KJ is required to wear number 13 and a bubble-wrap uniform.
• For presents, consider giving KJ a rabbit's foot, a four-leaf clover, a horseshoe, or a photocopy cut-out of Brett Farve's game-day beard.
• When shopping for a lottery ticket, have KJ wait in the car.
• If KJ visits New York city, tell her Wall Street is closed for street-sweeping.
• Whenever possilbe, beseech St. Christopher to pay a little more attention to a certain brunette from Zelienople, PA.

Flying the Peak

Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.

~George Eliot

Today was a beautiful fall day; a great day to strap on the props and fly low level through the hills and valleys of Western Pennsylvania/Eastern Ohio.

Twice a week the squadron flies tactical low level missions to the south and west of Pittsburgh. It is an area which includes the Ohio River, and some of the wildest parts of three states. There are numerous lakes and creeks, deep valleys and rolling hills strewn with hunting cabins, isolated oil derricks, and open strip mines. When I first started flying here, I was totally surprised there was so much open territory here in the eastern US, where we could get down in the weeds at 300' and do some serious terrain masking. Just another reason that the Pittsburgh area is so appealing as a place to live and work.

The fall is especially spectacular. The weather has been incredibly warm and clear this past week, a period that followed about a week of conversely low temperatures and several days of steady rain. The result has been a truly colorful week of fall colors. This is the time of year I really enjoy flying. The landscape is a kaleidoscope of reds, yellows, orange and brown. The trees are still full of leaves, but the colors make each tree stand out against its neighbors so that it feels like you are soaring over a multi-colored carpet.

The day did not start off promising. After about 5 days of beautiful weather, this morning broke grey and overcast, with low ceilings and thick, puffy clouds drifting swiftly across the horizon. The actual forecast during the morning mission brief promised clearing skies, and as we stepped, we were cheered to find a rainbow arching over the aircraft waiting on the ramp.

We flew two routes today... one to the east and south of the city, and another to the south and west. The eastern route butts up against the fringes of the Allegheny mountains where farms and cultural development meet rocky upcroppings and ridges capped by golden treelines. To the south we were able to drop down low and skim above lakes, reservoirs, and farmlands surrounded by varigated forests and foliage.

The winds were fairly light, which kept the skies scattered with dark puffy clouds. We flew the first half of the mission at a higher altitude, under constant Air Traffic Control, simulating the deployment leg of a mission where we can cover a lot of territory at high altitude and higher speed in a relatively safe environment. At a previously briefed point, we simulated entering a combat area, and drop to tree-top altitude to practise sneaking under the enemy's radar. It is demanding flying, being that close to the ground traveling 200+ mph. The benefit at this time of year is the sheer picturesque panorama that the fall colors of this area bring to the experience. People ohhh and awwww about the colors of upstate New York, New Hampshire, or Vermont, but I wonder if Pennsylvania doesn't compare pretty darn favorably this week of the year.

Wicked!

"It's good to see me, isn't it? No need to answer, that was rhetorical."

~Glinda

For KJ's 21st b-day, I took her to see the musical, "Wicked," playing at the Benadem Theater in downtown Pittsburgh. Laura took Jill and Kurt earlier in the month, but both KJ and I were out of town when they went, so we missed out. This worked out great though... a fun night out for just the two of us.

It was a busy night downtown as Pittsburgh was celebrating it's 250th birthday and would be having the biggest fireworks display Zambelli ever put on in the US. There were also a couple of other productions being performed that night in local theaters, so the downtown theater district was packed with people milling around waiting to either see one production or another. The weather was gorgeous too. Mid 60's with blue skies, so it was just a spectacular night.

If you don't know anything about the show "Wicked," it's about how the Wicked Witch of the West in "The Wizard of OZ" really became wicked. It also reveals a few other interesting tidbits, and overall is a great show.

We had fairly decent seats. We were on the 2nd Tier, so pretty high up, but we were right on the railing behind the aisle, so no one was in front of us and we had a fairly straight on view of the stage.

The production was incredibly lavish, with great costumes, a fun story, and absolutely wonderful music. The lead actresses playing the main characters of Glenda the Good Witch, and Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West had wonderful voices and were just phenomenal all night. At the end, KJ and I gasped at the ending and wildly clapped with the rest of the packed house at the conclusion. It was a great musical and I would gladly go see it again.

The latest in Fall fashion!

Before everything else, getting ready is the secret to success.

~ Henry Ford

“Success depends upon previous preparation, and without such preparation there is sure to be failure.”

~ Confucius

Another weekend, more training! The last weekend of the September UTA trifecta is finally over. It was fast and furious as usual, but the weather was great, which make life a bit more bearable.

The big event for me this drill was the big Chemical Defense Training I've been trying to avoid for the last year. I've been flying for 26 years now, and gone through chem defense probably 14 times. It changes on a year to year basis as whoever moves into the headquarters job comes up with his/her theories on how the next war will be fought, and we just suck it up, learn the new procedures, wear the new ensembles... and basically suffer through it.

We're going to have a huge Operational Readiness Inspection in December 2009. It will test our ability to "perform our wartime mission." The funny thing is we've been doing our wartime mission for the past five years, and it looks nothing like the stuff they are going to test us on. The Iraqis and the Afghanistanis don't have any chemical weapons, and we verified that about day three of the war, yet we spend huge amounts of time and money preparing to fight in a chemical environment than no one but the Russians ever gave any indication they could operate in.

I think the fear is that if we ever fight the Chinese or North Koreans they would use chemicals. I suppose the Iranians could be a player... The problem is none of these groups actively trains to fight using chemicals. But we do. In an age of asymmetrical warfare and tight budgets, I simply think we still are spending huge amounts of money training to fight the wrong war. But that's just me.

Anyway, we had 4 hours of computer based agony, reviewing all kinds of lessons on wearing the suit and mask; using decon materials; how to survive a base attack, etc. I felt they really should have included the annual Suicide Prevention course in the mix too, just to make sure everyone made it through the training.

After a break for lunch, it was hands-on training with all the new equipment: inspecting and cleaning the mask, donning the suits, learning how to work with all the extra gear hanging off you and impeding your normal ability to do your job, and decontamination procedure. It was a full day, and by the end we were pretty much a sweaty, charcoal-covered mess. But we're ready, or at least as ready as anyone can be for the next several training exercises that will make up the coming year of inspection-prep.

Now THIS is survival training!

“Every survival kit should include a sense of humor”

~ Author Unknown

September is one of those months that doesn't seem to want to end. Two weeks ago we had a Unit Training Assmebly (UTA) for my Reserve unit, and this weekend we had another. This one was our 5-year mandatory survival training refresher, and took the place of our drill in August. I'm sure it felt great to skip the August Drill for those guys that were here, but for me, I played Air Force all through the month of August, and now I've been doing it over and over gain in September. What fun!

Our Life Support shop takes a lot of pride in all that they do; not only in how they run their shop on a day-to-day basis, but in putting on a first class survival class when it's time for refresher training. No holds are barred, no expenses are unpaid... and for a bunch of part-timers, it's an event to look forward to, instead of dreading like so much mandatory training is these days.

For this event, we typically show up bright and early Saturday morning dressed in flight suits and BDUs (what used to be called "fatigues,"), load up buses and stake-bed trucks; and head 1-1/2 hours north to the 200-acre "camp" a former member of the squadron has generously donated for our use. This year things were complicated by the death of a member of our squadron after a long battle with cancer, so we all attended a funeral in the morning, and ended up starting our survival training weekend at noon.

Once up in the woods, we poured out of the buses, found our gear (sleeping bags, backpacks, air mattresses, etc) and set up camp. Because of the late start, by the time we had our 100 or so tents set up and gear stowed away, it was time for an early dinner. Now in most survival camps the instructors throw you a couple of MREs (Meal, Ready-to-Eat) or a rabbit and have you skin it and cook it yourself. Not us. Our Training department took up a nice donation from each of us and had food catered in from a nearby bar. They roared into camp with a bunch of trucks and quads, set up a couple of grills and a serving line, and suddenly we had the nicest steak dinner I've enjoyed in quite a while! The steaks were thick, juicy and cooked to order over a charcoal fire... nothing better!

After dinner, it was time to get serious and start the training. The gaggle was broken into four groups and rotated through various training stations covering such topics as how to build shelters out of parachute material, and/or local vegetation; fire craft; food procurement and snare building; and some rudimentary first aid training. The fire craft was the most well attended class. Practicing meant building an actual fire using flints or a maximum of three matches. It turned out to be quite competitive (go figure with all those Type-A aviators involved!) - if you weren't the first to build a fire, then "By GOD," you had to build the biggest one! My team fell into the second category. We spent a lot of time gathering all our material, and when we finally got it lit, we just kept piling it on, not wanting to let all our gathering go to waste. That was all well and good except that it was very important to put the fires out. We had quite the pile of coals to deal with by the time we got ours out. Oh well.

About the time the training ended that evening (around 2100) the caterers were back to serve a dinner of hamburgers and hotdogs. Again another huge meal with terrific baked beans and patato salad. The icing on the cake was the kegger that suddenly appeared, and was quickly surrounded and tapped. (I don't remember anyone serving beer on my original survival trek...)

With the smoking and drinking lamp lit, the carousing and mingling commenced full-force. A huge bon-fire was lit in a nearby field, and people wandered back and forth between the fire and the beer tent for the remainder of the night and long into the morning. I think I gave up the ghost about 1230, keeping mind the fact that wake-up was at 0730, with classes scheduled for 0800.

True to the schedule, the caterers showed up bright and early the next morning, and as we emerged bleary-eyed from our respective tents, they put on a huge spread of bacon, sausage and eggs! Promptly at 0800, the First Sargent started hollering and classes commenced. The big event of the day was the Escape and Evasion course. We were split into two-person teams and after a refresher in map and compass reading, were sent out into the woods to sneak through "enemy" lines for about 3/4 mile to a checkpoint back by camp. Along the way we had to dodge various "comrades" combing the hills for downed fliers; though how they could miss 30 of us in a confined area the width of about two football fields, is beyond me. It was warm out, but the rain had stayed away, so as we low-crawled and crept through the undergrowth struggling not to sound like a small herd of buffalo, it turned into quite a sweaty, buggy event. It was fun though, and was a valuable refresher.

To finish the training day we hit stations in signaling and vectoring rescue helicopters, more first aid, water procurement, and hands on examination of all the various pieces and parts of the survival vest and kits we carry or wear when we fly. More good hands-on familiarization.

Finally it was time to pack-up camp and head out. Oh, but not before one last meal: Catered sausage and meatball sandwiches! I don't know about anyone else, but I certainly didn't lose any weight on this trip!

The final activity of the day was passing the hat one last time to pay for the ADDITIONAL Keg and bottles of booze the group somehow consumed the night before. Turns out our group went right through the stuff we brought and ended up invading our buddy's house and drinking him dry too. Luckily everyone was good about pitching in to pay for replacing the extra beverages, and carting off all the garbage we had created over the past two days, leaving the camp in pretty much the shape we found it in.

All in all, it was one of the better training events I've been to. Unlike most of them, we managed to learn a lot as well as do some serious bonding as a unit, which is a critical thing when you go into combat together. Well done guys! Can't wait for the next one!

McConnell's Mill Hike

Me thinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow.

~Henry David Thoreau

Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.

~Steven Wright

Kurt is turning me into the outdoors guy I always wanted to be. I don't think he's doing it intentionally, because I have to shove him out the door most time we go on an outing, but he's giving me the reason to do all the hiking and backpacking and camping I liked doing and thought I'd keep doing.

While I was over in the desert this last trip, Laura sent me an e-mail about going to Philmont. Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico, is pretty much the Mecca for scouts. I'm sure there are other important places you can go and claim to have visited, but if you mention doing Philmont to anyone who has ever been a Boy Scout, you've pretty much said you've done THE scout thing.

Kurt wants to go, and the local council has a bunch of openings, so Laura suggested that I go along too; we can train and get ready for the adventure together. I couldn't think of one good excuse not too, and when I asked my boss at work for the time off, he quickly said "YES!" (Turns out HE was an Eagle Scout...)

So we need to get out on the trail. We visited REI outfitters and found a couple of nice packs on sale (the first real packs we've ever had), but needed an opportunity to try them out. My month has been jam-packed since I got back, and so has Kurt's; but we found a Sunday morning to go out together.

We drove up to McConnell's Mill State Park which is a gorge along Slippery Rock Creek just about 20 minutes north of the house. Easy to get to, and filled with trails, I figured it would be a great starter hike for us. I got on-line and found a 3.5 mile hike down one side of the creek and back up the other with lots of rocky ground and a couple of steep hills, just what the doctor ordered to see how the equipment felt first time out.

The weather was gorgeous and we got on the trail about 9 a.m. It was a fairly cool morning, so sweatshirts worked for proably the first 3/4 of mile, then got to be a bit much. The trail is part of the North Country Trail system, so on the way down it was marked with blue blazes and easy to see. The Creek was gorgeous in the early morning light, and we stopped for a rest at McConnell's Mill about the 3/4 mile point. The rest of the hike to the turn around bridge was right along the creek, just above the rapids and huge rocks that were depostited from the every edge of the last glacier to push this far south.

At the bridge we stopped and watched the local EMT teams practice river rescue techiques and had some chow. Then it was back up on the trail headed back. The trip back seemed to go a bit faster, though we were used to the hiking by this point, and since we had a time crunch with Kurt's musical practice later in the day, we hurried a bit faster than on the way down.

One of the unusual things we notices was several mill stones cast along the hillsides above the creek. Some were quite high up, and quite far down the creek for the Mill, so I wonder if there might not have been more than one mill on the creek.

All in all it was a fun day, and a great chance for Kurt and I to share some quality "guy" time in the great outdoors. We should experience lots of that in the next 7 months or so!

Kennywood Days

“I always feel like I'm on a roller-coaster, but I never want to get off! There's a certain high you're always on.”

~ Leonardo DiCaprio

If it's fall, it's time to go to Kennywood!

Every fall, Kennywood, a local amusement park, famous in the Pittsburgh area, offers a military discount day. I'm not sure the regular price for tickets, but on Military Appreciation day, we get to buy an all day pass for $10.00, which seems like a pretty good deal, especially if you've ever spent a small fortune for a trip to Disney World. Now Kennywood is no where near the league of Disney World, but it's a fun, old-style family amusement park, and I love going there every year.

Laura had to work, and Jill and Kara were both stuck at school with tests to study for, so it was just me and Kurt. A guys day out! With great weather, I was really looking forward to a fun day.

The traffic was horrendous, probably taking us an hour longer than normal to get through Pittsburgh, down and across the Monongahela River, and into the park. Turns out they were working on the bridge and traffic was backed up all the way through Edgewood to 386. If I get to do it again, I'll go through the Southside works and Homewood.

When we got to the Park, Kurt wanted to immediately ride The Phantom's Revenge. The Phantom's Revenge is a 2nd generation steel roller coaster, and one of the more violent rides I've been on. It lasts about 2 minutes, and so fast and furious that I really don't enjoy it. It IS the marquee ride park, so you HAVE to take the ride, but it's not one that's worth waiting in line twice for.

Speaking of waiting in line, the reason I like Military Appreciation day is because it is typically in late September when all the summer crowds are gone and the park is much more enjoyable. There ARE rides that are shut down, so you don't get the full Monty as far as the total park experience, but it is so nice to walk up to a ride and get right on... hard to find a bad thing in that deal!

We stopped for lunch, then started on our quest of rides around the park: Bumper Cars, the helicopter, Tilt-a-whirl, and the world famous carousel. Kurt didn't really seem interested in the carousel at first, but I convinced him that people came from all over to ride it, and he finally reluctantly agreed. We found a couple of high spirited mounts and had a good old time going round and round, making sure we took a couple of pictures.

We shot laser rifles, which Kurt always loves. there are lots of targets, and if you hit the right ones, water squirts the people around you. The trick is finding the ones that soak your friends and hitting them over and over again! Complimenting this event was the log ride, a two person ride along a water sluice that ends in a wave-crashing plunge, soaking the compartment and all it's occupants. We found that if we stayed right in the middle of the "log" all the water went around us and we remained remarkably dry.

The highlight of the day for me was two rides on my favorite roller-coaster, the Thunderbolt. It's a classic wooden roller-coaster that starts out with a dive over a cliff, then takes long slow rickety climbs and careening dashes round and round, letting people wave their arms in the air and scream with glee the entire time, without feeling like they had to hold on for dear life. I'd ride the Thunderbolt all day long if I could.

Kennywood is a great time and really does creat memories that will last a lifetime. It's been fun sharing this special time with Kurt year after year, and I hope we can keep doing it as a family tradition in the future.

Yuma: Back in the desert again

It is one thing to be in the proximity of death, to know more or less what she is, and it is quite another thing to seek her.

— Ernest Hemingway

Out of 10,000 feet of fall, always remember that the last half inch hurts the most.

— Captain Charles W. Purcell, 1932

I went back to work last week to find that the schedule had huge holes in it, and not a lot of options for filling it.

As the Chief of Scheduling for my unit, I get to see all the missions and work with the various sections to fill the crews. I also happen to be the Navigator scheduler, so I work very closely

with the unit's Nav force which includes Technicians (like me), Traditional Reservists (Part-timers, with regular jobs), and Bums (guys who don't have regular civilian jobs, and like the vagabond Reserve life.. ready to take any mission that comes along).

The one hole I couldn't fill in the two days I had back was a Navigator on a crew flying out to Yuma to provide 7 days of airlift support for the Military Free Fall school, located at the Yuma Proving Grounds. I contacted all my Nav's, and found pretty much every one had either just come back from long missions, had work commitments, or were already scheduled for something. That left one last option: I looked in the mirror.

So, after a day of rest, I headed out again to

the desert sands. This time it was Yuma, Arizona, home of a major army test center, and the world's best military free-fall parachute school. Our job was to provide 7-12 lifts per day to roughly 30-75 students and instructors as they try to complete a very rigorous combat parachute training course. Each lift consists of taxiing over to the "school house;" loading up 30 or so students, instructors, jumpmasters, and video cameramen; taking off and climbing as fast as possible to 13,000 feet; navigating to the computed release point, letting the first 15 guys jump out; executing a quick 5-1/2 minute racetrack (unpressurized and on oxygen mask); dropping the remaining 15 or so guys, then diving back down to the airfield to upload the next group. Repeat over and over and over again.

The worst part of the job was the effect the climbs and dives in un-pressurized conditions had on our sinus' and ears. At some time during the week, it seemed nearly everyone on the crew had some kind of issue, either an ear block, sinus headache, or sinus cold. My effects were a lingering pressure on the ears long after the flights ended, most likely due to prolonged use of oxygen. I had to keep clearing my ears all afternoon and evening in order to prevent waking up in the middle of the night with a severe ear ache.

The students we supported are the best of the best: Rangers, Green Berets, Air Force PJs (Para rescue) and Navy Seals. They learn to jump from high altitude, performing High Altitude, Low Opening (HALO) or High Altitude, High Opening (HAHO) airdrops.

The drops were jumpmaster directed: both the Jumpmaster and the Nav individually determine a release point based on prevailing winds, compare notes and agree on a spot. The Navigator then directs the plane to that point, and the Jumpmaster, looking out the door, or off the ramp, gives final corrections to the pilot and decides when to let the jumpers depart the aircraft. My personal goal is to have as few Jumpmaster course-corrections as possible, and there were a couple days when we never heard a word...lift after lift, the jumpers left the airplane with out correcting our run-in once. THAT's when you know you're doing your job right.

All in all it was a heavy duty week. In five days, we made 43 lifts, conducted 75 airdrops, dropping 982 paratroopers. For currency requirements, I need one actual personnel airlift per year. I think I'm good for awhile!

All of our flying was conducted between 6 am and Noon, because the winds are calmer and the storms always seem to build with the heat of the day. Our afternoons were spent by the hotel pool, and in search of good food. We found a place called Logan's Roadhouse which was kind of like a Texas Steakhouse, or TGI Fridays: Good food and a nice selection of beer. Sushi was on the agenda a couple of nights. I'm a sushi rookie, so I only went one night, but I did enjoy it. A couple of the guys hit the sushi bar three times during the week; a bit much for me, I'm still acquiring the taste for raw fish.

One night we stopped by the local VFW. That was a lot of fun: the drinks were cheap, the locals incredibly friendly, and the food delicious. We tried for the 50-50 drawings to pay our bar tabs, but somehow were aced out in every drawing. Oh well, maybe next time.

On the last day we were invited to a graduation party for the group we had been dropping all week. I've been done this mission before, but had never heard of any of the aircrew being invited to the party, so we felt very honored. In fact, mid way through the evening, the Sargent Major stopped the evenings proceedings and presented the crew with certificates of thanks and school challenge coins. If you're in the military, getting "coined" is a high honor indeed, and all we felt extremely proud we had done such a good job providing the critical airlift support these warriors need for their combat training.

All in all, it was a truly great week.

Second Star to the right, and straight on till morning!

I spent the weekend watching my son perform in a musical. He portrayed Mr. Darling in a local theater group's rendition of "Peter Pan." I think this is something like his 4th or 5th musical, and in each one he is getting bigger and better parts.

He belongs to a local community theater troupe called CPK, or Christian Performing Kids. It was put together by a local Pastor who has a musical background and whose kids performed in musicals all through high school. They have since grown and left town, some to continue lives in the performing arts. The Pastor continues to work with the local school arts program, playing piano during chorus performances and helping out with the annual All-school musical.

The musicals that the CPKs perform usually have a Christian theme, though Peter Pan was a bit of a departure from that norm. One recent play portrayed the story of Esther, another was a cut down version of Joseph. Most of them are written and scored by the Pastor. One thing he does do is get other people to direct. He's had High School kids and adults act as directors, and it is really amazing how well the productions turn out, especially since there is no funding for things like costumes and sets. A local church lets them use a social hall for performances, and all performances are free to the public. Donations are asked for but not required, as most of the attendees are the parents and high school friends..

In Peter Pan, Kurt plays the cranky father, Mr. Darling. Hard to watch your son grouch to his "wife" and "kids" and wonder how much he gets from real life with Dad! He gets mad at the dog, Nora, and tries to discourage his kids and their active imaginations. In the end, he remembers a bit of his own childhood. He had three songs in this one, including a pretty decent rendition of that never to be forgotten, "Hair on my pants!"

In all, he had four performances, and as you can imagine, the cast loosened up a bit more with each show. By Sunday afternoon, they looked like professionals, and were even ad libbing a bit. It was a fun weekend, and they all made us parents very proud. I guess the best thing about this program is how much more confident these kids seem to get with each production. They are very approachable, easy to talk to, and have a lot of self-esteem. I think it's been a great opportunity for each and every member of the cast, and will pay huge dividends later in life.

Goodbye Summer!

The Labor Day weekend was fast and furious. I flew back from California, landed about 6 pm, and drove straight up to the In-law's cottage about an hour north of Zelie. It is a cute little rustic house, built on stilts, situated above a lake in what used to be an old strip mine. The owner of the property decided to make some money about 15 years ago, and sold off lots and homes to people who wanted to get away from day-to-day life. The lake is not big, and is certainly not pristine; several years ago the family actually dubbed it "Sludge Lake," because of it's tendency to lose water and end up being more of a muddy swamp than an lake.

But it is a nice-get-a-way, and over the years we've spent many fun weekends just relaxing in the woods and being with family vs. the distractions of day-to-day life and its never ending schedule of events.

One of the fun things to do is walk around the lake. It is probably 25 acres or so when full, so there is enough to paddle a Kayak or canoe around. Bob the Builder" never make a complete path around the thing, which I think he missed the boat on, but he did eventually sell houses and lots around 3/4ths of the lake, with several rows, so it has developed it's own pathways that you can take cool evening walks around. The last quarter is a bit of a hike, but fairly doable, as long as you can walk and step gingerly through weeds and piles of rocks and furrowed earth.

Dogs absolutely love the place, and it is always a joy to set your Lab free, watching them jump and frolic and retrieve various objects, proudly emerging from a frothing wake, with their latest prize. Cooper had a blast and chased after his thrown stick over and over again, always ready for the next one. Of course he had to run right up to us and shake off after every soaking!

One of my favorite things is taking the kayak out on the water. The families bought several over the course of a couple of years, and there is at least one at camp at any given time, depending on how much planning is accomplished ahead of time. The lake is always calm and still, so it is an easy paddle around the "island," chasing the geese and fish before you.

In the evenings after the sun goes down you can sit on the enclosed porch and chat, or watch videos, a favorite pastime of both kids and adults alike.

Originally the cottage was two bedrooms, but Pat & Stew added on a master suite which provides just enough room to host both my family and Patti and April and all the dogs, which is a horde in themselves. So for a good family weekend, the place pretty much rocks and rolls with activity.

Great place to spend a long last weekend of summer!

You CAN go home again... and should!

On Wednesday I flew out to see my parents in California. They currently live in the nice little town of Lodi, California, located about 30 minutes south of Sacramento, in the central valley.

My parents have been pretty mobile my entire life. Dad was an Air Force fighter pilot, so we moved quite frequently during my childhood years, but that tendency to pick up and move seems to have carried over into their retired years. It was one of the reasons Laura and I chose to live where we do. When we were contemplating getting out of the Air Force once upon a time, we debated where to live for quite awhile. In the end our desire to have a stable family life for our children won out, and by choosing that, we kind of eliminated moving west to be near my family. As it turned out, my folks have moved several times since we made that decision, pretty much validating the premise that if we moved to live near them, we'd quickly find ourselves waving goodbye...

Anyway, back to our hero's journey out west....

I had a couple extra days off due to leave earned while deployed, so once we pinned down the date of the Chick-Fil-A party, I used Priceline.com for the first time to find a $420 roundtrip ticket from here to Sacramento and back. Not bad when every where else I looked had the price $600+. (Laura said she found something for around $250 to San Francisco, but that would have been a heck of drive, especially if I had to arrive late or leave early. I never saw it, but I also didn't jump right on it either.)

The flight out was fairly smooth, both flights were on time, and though we encountered turbulence over the Rockies, it wasn't too bad. The rental car was waiting upon my arrival, and the drive was pretty easy right down I-5 to the left turn off the Lodi exit.

My parents have suffered a couple of serious medical issues in the last year, so I've been trying to stop by as much as possible, despite the distance. Last September or October my Mom suffered a severe stroke, numbing the entire left side of her body. She's been in a constant state of recovery since then, and as far as I can tell.. doing a rather great job of it. She's been up and walking since about the first week after the stroke, though it is still a labored process.

Dad found out a couple months ago that he had a large blockage of his cartoid artery, so after several stops and starts, he found a great surgeon and had surgery, finding out afterwards that it had been 80% blocked! His recovery has been great, but any surgery in your mid-70s leaves a mark. Both are moving slow, and of course Mom can't drive now, so that has really put a crimp in their lifestyle.

I found them in good spirits, and moving around rather well. (I'm always concerned about Mom's mobility). Dad is driving without any issues, and they are cooking pretty good meals. They have a maid service come in once every week or so to dust and vacuum and clean, so their place is very nice.

We spent two days together enjoying each other's company and talking about all sorts of things. On the second day, Thursday, we went and picked up my nieces from Kindergarten, and watched them while my sister and her husband worked. Kate and Ally are cute 5 year olds full of energy and imagination. I'm surprised at times that my parents and my brother-in-law Bob's parents have the ability to keep up with a pair that is always on the go. But I think they reach school aged at just the right moment, and are only watched for half-days now. Still, they are a handful, but lot's of fun!

That night Dad drove us over to the downtown district where we met up with Bob, Susan and the girls for dinner at a local brew pub we like. The food was great, and the atmosphere added to the experience: tall ceilings, copper vats right next to the tables, dark wood paneling on the walls and long bar. The beer selection was surprisingly limited, but the company more than made up for it.

After dinner we posed for pictures on the sidewalk outside. The evening air was warm and dry, so we had fun posing with different groups, and everyone laughed and giggled moving in and out of the picture. Made for some good photos.

The next day (Saturday), I went with Bob, Susan and the girls up to Murphies in the California foothills to go wine tasting and shopping in the local shops. It was a long drive, which I thought was rather bold with the girls in tow, but they handled it like true champions, and since the weather was blue skies all the way, we had a great drive through the California countryside.

The wine was amazing. I think we hit three or four tasting rooms, and I found three good bottles I liked enough to try and carry home. Pennsylvania prohibits shipping wine into the state, so I couldn't buy anything in bulk, thus anything I wanted to bring home I had to carry in my checked luggage (remember: no liquids in the carry-on stuff!) Three was all I was willing to risk. (As it turned out, much to my surprise, they all made it home perfectly okay). It was truely a pleasant day spending time with Susan and her family, made complete with a mandatory stop at the local rock shop so Kate and Alley could find the perfect stuffed animal! (Who knew???)

We returned to Lodi, driving into the setting sun, arriving in Lodi just in time for a delicious lasagna dinner waiting at Mom and Dad's house, the perfect cap to a great visit.

It truly was a great visit, and went a long way to alleviating my personal concerns for my parent's well-being. They are not as young and vigorous as they once were, but then, when I look in the mirror and take stock of the various aches and pains I experience every day, I think to myself, "who is?"

Extreme Dinner Make-Over

I won a contest.

A couple weeks before I left for Southwest Asia, I was walking out of Chick-Fil-A in Cranberry, and my wife pointed to an ad Tee-Pee by the door. It was announcing a contest to have a dinner hosted in your neighborhood for you and 99 of your friends. My wife suggested off-hand that I should enter since I like to write. You had to write a quick essay; 100 words or less on why you would want to have a neighborhood dinner party. For me, this was too easy.

I quickly jotted down that I've been deployed several times and was going again this summer, and would really enjoy hosting a party for all my neighbors and friends thanking them for all their support for both me and my family over the the years.

Sure enough, about two weeks later I received a phone call from a girl named Rose who worked in the marketing department of the local Chick-Fil-A telling me I was selected as a winner! All I had to do was name the place and the date, some week night during the summer from 6:30 to 8:30. Chick-Fil-A would handle everything else.


After some discussions with Laura, we decided to hold it after I got back, as a kind of celebration. We had to give them a date, so I looked at when I was SUPPOSED to be back and added ten days.. just to be sure... (good thing, eh?)

So on Monday, the 25th, we held the party at the local park in one of the pavillions. Chick-Fil-A showed up at 5:30 and set up a tent next to the pavillion, laid out the food, and set up music and speakers. They even had a slate of games for people to play, but I think we kind of disappointed them when we came up with 80 names and only six of them were under the age of 10. I think they were used to much younger crowds.

Laura actually sent out invitations to something like 140 people. We garnered about 80 positive replies, and about 75 people showed, so it was a nice crowd. One of my neighbors, Jim Shantz, had won the services of a classical guitarist for two hours and wondered if he might bring him to the party since he didn't know when else he'd use him. I said bring him on over, what the heck! So we were serenaded by classical guitar as we ate our sandwiches and fries!

I invited my son's Boy Scout troop, since they typically meet on Monday nights, and the Chaplain's Aid led us in an opening prayer before we lined up for the food and drink. There was plenty to eat: I think pretty much everyone had seconds, and some of the boys even went back for thirds! Dinner even included some killer brownies.. so it was quite a feast.

As it turned out we all had so much fun sitting and talking that we never did get around to the fun and games.. and actually that was okay. I felt bad about the Chick-Fil-A folks getting all geared up for it, but they had assessed the mood and activities of the crowd and decided to just let us sit, eat and talk to our hearts content. It was just a gorgeous evening and so much fun seeing all our friends and family enjoying themselves.

The beauty of it was, when it was all over, our caterers packed up, cleaned up and departed, leaving nothing for us to do except say our goodbyes. It was a great evening, and my hat is off to Ron Trout and the Cranberry Township Chick-Fil-A for making it all happen so smoothly.