Every job has its positives and negatives depending on a
person’s point of view. Now I get to travel regularly and work with educators around
the country helping them learn and grow so that their students and community
can benefit. There are definitely times the travel can take its toll whether it’s
being tired with early/late flights and time changes or missing the family.
Having the flexibility to positively impact so many communities while being able
to do a considerable amount of work from home also allows me to be more present
as my children grow, something that was often difficult while leading school
districts and all the issues that come with it. There are also other bonuses to the travel,
especially getting to meet new people.
During a recent trip, I was sitting on a fully booked plane
waiting for us to get underway. The only seat that was not taken yet was the
one next to me by the window. I was settling in with some reading when a lady
sitting behind me got out of her seat and walked past. This made me look up as
once people are in their seats before takeoff, they usually stay there. I then
noticed an older gentleman trying to make his way down the aisle, carrying a
heavy carry-on duffle bag. The lady had gotten up to help him with the bag and
stow in in the overhead bin. After I got done kicking myself for not paying
attention to another person in need, I realized the gentleman was likely my
seat mate for the connecting flight in Charlotte.
As he approached, I got up from me seat to allow him to
reach his. I noticed he also had a shopping
bag that you might see from a Hallmark store.
In the bag was a larger white box making me think he had a present to
give someone once he reached his destination.
He was probably barely over five feet tall and was wearing comfortable
clothes for his trip. The one thing that
stood out the most was the ball cap he was wearing. It had a skull with the words,
“one shot, one kill” underneath. As many of my family members were in the
various branches, the hat did not look like an official one that many veterans might
wear. Then I noticed a pin attached high on the cap. It stated Vietnam Veteran.
Then and there I decided my book could wait until later as it would never be as
interesting as it would be to chat with this American hero.
As he sat down and put the shopping bag between his feet, he
said hi and introduced himself. I found
out quickly that Phil was originally from Eastern Kentucky and was flying to
Columbus to visit his hometown after several years away. I asked him if he flew often, and he told me
he used to much more and “at least I’m not jumping out of this one.” That comment seemed to solve part of the
mystery surrounding Phil’s story but also made me want to learn so much more.
Phil immediately reminded me of my grandfather.
While Phil served in Vietnam, my grandfather and his two
brothers all served in the Navy during WWII. It has been almost 18 years since my
grandfather passed from a second bout of colon cancer just before his 84th
birthday. I can still remember the stories he told of being stationed in
England early during his deployment and being able to get leave to visit distant
family from his father’s hometown near Glasgow. Or how the mine sweeper he was
on in the Pacific would tilt sideways during rough seas. Or how his ship, the USS Pochard was one of
the first Allied ships into Tokyo Bay to check for mines before the USS
Missouri made its way in. I may have heard these stories multiple times and
would often ask him about others. One time he told me about being deployed to
Nagasaki. I was old enough to know that he meant after the atomic bomb was dropped
there. He started to tell more but quickly changed the subject. It was clear
that he was deeply affected by what he saw.
I could sense the same feeling coming from Phil so didn’t
ask him any questions about his service and just let him talk. He started
telling me stories of growing up in Eastern Kentucky and how Nixon drafted him
in 1971. He figured, “if they wanted me so bad, I’m going to stick around until
they get rid of me.” He ended up serving for 20 years and 3 days. He made one
comment about how so much of his time would come back in his dreams. Instead of
talking more about those 20 years, he talked about his two daughters,
especially his youngest. He described how she overcame every barrier in her way,
including being far shorter and smaller than everyone else, to serve in the Army
and rise through the ranks during her 25 years. It was easy to see how proud he
was of her, so much so I could feel it. He didn’t fail to mention his wife,
Elizabeth, times multiple and how she was a saint for putting up with him.
When the right opportunity presented itself, I asked Phil
where he served during his 20 years. He simply replied, “multiple continents
with places on a map that don’t even have a name.” He then told me how he learned to shoot from
his mother, and she was the best shot he had ever seen. When he was drafted, the Master Sargeant
quickly realized how good of a shot Phil was. It became clear that I was
sitting next to a sniper from the 81st Airborne. He told me stories
about shooting tests they gave him including hitting the same quarter twice
while it was thrown into the air. From someone else that likely would have come
across as bravado or a half truth, but from Phil, I had no doubt that, if anything,
he was understating his experiences. Phil then showed me what looked like scar
from a hole in his left hand. “This is where a bullet went through,” then a
scar on his left wrist. “This is from the enemy’s knife when I ran out of bullets.”
Then just like that we were on the ground.
I had made the decision long before landing, that I would
help Phil get to his connecting flight, even though it was in the opposite
direction of my own. As people started to get up in front of us, Phil said it will
be “nice to finally get Elizabeth home.” It’s then that I realized, his beloved
wife’s remains were in the large white box and he was taking her to his
hometown for her final rest. Whenever he mentioned her, it was in the present
tense. I had no idea the entire flight
that she was travelling with him. It took everything I had to not let my
watering eyes turn into crying right then and there. She had died on December 9th
of COPD after being weakened by chemo over the past two years of fighting cancer
during the pandemic.
As we disembarked, another gentleman thanked Phil for his
service. It clearly bothered him, but he
merely stated thank you. As we walked on, he told me how “he wouldn’t have
thanked me if he only knew the things I had to do.” Once we reached his gate, Phil
thanked me for the conversation and for listening to an “old man’s stories.” If
only he knew how truly grateful I was for crossing his path. Just as the Veterans
of WWII were the elder population when I was growing up, our Vietnam Veterans now
are the elder generation for my own children. We all must take every opportunity
to listen to and affirm the stories of those that served and currently serve, so
can begin to understand the sacrifices they paid and still pay when “the past
comes back in their dreams.” Thank you,
Phil, for sharing a little bit of yourself, with a random guy on a plane, who is
a better person for meeting you.
