Back in the mid 70's, I made a trip to the Air Force Museum.

My entourage included my two young children, and my maternal
grandfather. It is important to point out that my
grandfather was Naval Aviator #711, a number which will
sound spectacularly low to the Naval Aviators who read
these groups.

At the museum, he wanted to look at the W.W.I engines, and
explain their intricacies to me. I am named after him, as
is my oldest son. But at that time, being young and
stupid, I just wanted to look at the jets. I should have
listened to him more when I had the chance.

After the tour, we visited the Wright Brothers Memorial on a
hill overlooking the base. This monument includes a lot of
stone blocks, engraved with the names of the men the Wright
brothers taught to fly at their Dayton base.

My kids considered the blocks to be "things-to-climb-on" and
proceeded to cavort and play with no sense of place or
history whatsoever.

As a life long airplane person, with a romantic streak in
that regard, I busied myself having pompous thoughts and a
reverent feeling for the place.

But my grandfather shattered all this foolishness when he
spotted a familiar name engraved in stone:
" I knew that son-of-a-bitch!
He was my C.O. at Norfolk!"

I guess it's all in your point of view.......


Bob McKellar