Winnifred Lorean “Buddy” (Elder) Branby

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message ‘(S)He is Dead’.

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

(S)He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden

If you get this far, here’s a quick and simple overview of this amazing woman:

She grew up in Central Texas. Her dad shipped out to the Aleutian Islands during WWII. Came home, got his teaching degree in WA, and moved his growing family back to TX. 

She met my Dad on a blind date. He was in pilot training, and her cousin suggested she hook up with his buddy for a dance that was about 1-1/2 hours away. Dad drove her home afterwards and slept in the car outside their house. 

They wrote letters to each other and he asked her to get on a bus and meet him in Las Vegas. In blind faith, she did, and they married in the “Little Chapel around the Corner.” 

Over the next 58 years she moved household and kids to California, England, California, Tucson, California, Washington (Vietnam), California, Libya, Italy, Washington (Korea), Las Vegas, Phoenix, Washington, Fallon, Nevada; Anacortes, WA; and finally..... Lodi, CA. My Dad was my inspiration, but my Mom was my life support system. ❤️

Sense of 'Mission, Spirit’ Bound Dyess Crewmen

 Mar 20, 1980

By LARRY LAWRENCE

The tribute of a squadron commander who is a veteran aircrewman set the tone Wednesday for memorial services at the Dyess Air Force Base chapel honoring six members of the 463rd Tactical Airlift Wing.

They died Friday in the crash of a C-130 transport in Southeastern Turkey.

Protestant services were conducted for Lt. Col. Benjamin H. Barnette, Maj. Michael L. Jones, Capt. Richard J. Wagner, Staff Sgt. Patrick L. Cypher and Airman 1st Class Howard K. Watkins. A Catholic mass was said for Sgt. George W. Moreau.

In an eulogy prepared by members of the wing, Lt. Col. Gene Hollrah, commander of the 772nd Tactical Airlift Squadron, lauded the men for their service and dedication to family, to each other, to the nation and to God. He noted their similarities and their differences.

"While they were among us, they seemed no different than other men...yet, they were as different as night from day. They were an aircrew; men of different means and background, bound together by a machine, a mission, and a spirit few men have known or can ever hope to know."

Friends and associates of the fliers came from home, from their offices and from the flight line to fill the chapel to overflowing long before the hour of the service. The fact that life and duties go on was reflected by those attending. Flight suits and fatigues mingled in the chapel with blue uniforms and civilian dress.

Hollrah, who as a navigator has logged thousands of hours of flying time, touched on the motivations, the hopes and aspirations of the airmen. He said their individual bravery and sense of personal duty made them willing to face up to the tough tasks of each day.

"With warmth and a sense of humanity, they carried out their duties, determined to see them through to a successful conclusion. Each possessed the unfailing formula for mission accomplishment those key elements of patriotism, self-respect, discipline and self-confidence, he continued.

He emphasized the great respect each held for the others when he said: "If ever you remember the security and love you felt when as a child you were rocked softly to sleep, then you know the tremendous trust they held in each other.

"...If ever you have watched the Stars and Stripes dip tug at the lanyard while from somewhere deep within a shiver of proud belonging welled up in your breast, then you know the endless love they had for God, country and the brotherhood of free men.

"They were an aircrew, called home by a loving creator when their work was finished. We must believe that their individual spirits live on in a place much better than this life and that the spirt that bound them together lives on in each of us present here today," he said.