Marking a sad anniversary

There are events for each of us that stand out in memory for the rest of our lives. Considering my own life the day that I first soloed an aircraft remains a bright moment from the instance my tires left the ground and the sixteen year old me brilliantly realized that I was on my own. Now intensely aware I had to fly the traffic pattern and land this thing with no flight instructor to correct possible errors. Yes over the years I’ve found that nearly every pilot I’ve ever asked can relate in intimate detail his/her first solo trip from takeoff to a successful landing.

Another event that stands out in each of our memories happened on 9/11/2001. The Japanese raid on Pearl Harbor was a similar event but the vast majority of persons that had that event seared in their memories are now gone so the Pearl Harbor attack is mostly now confined to the dusty pages of history. Pause to consider that about half of the persons then living when 9/11 happened are also gone to their eternal reward.

I’d love to ask each of you dear readers what you were doing and where you were when informed of the al Qaeda strike against America. That act of flying hijacked airliners into the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City.

The theme is aviation again but your humble column writer was playing the role of a civilian corporate pilot carrying a load of truck drivers into Kansas City. We were nearly to our destination of Lees Summit Airport on the east edge (the Missouri side) of the city complex. On the radio I heard air traffic control direct a business jet just ahead of me saying “You are directed to land at Kansas City Downtown Airport.” The corporate pilot demurred and stated that Downtown was not his destination. The Air Traffic response “It is a national emergency. You are directed to land at Downtown Airport.” That corporate jet pilot then promptly responded to the demand to land. At that point I queried as to my destination which was less than 10 miles ahead and the answer was to proceed as I had filed. On landing I walked into operations and joined a group gathered around a television set to watch the second airliner fly into the second tower. That sight is seared into my memory. It was at that moment I realized that our safe secure western world had forever changed.

Speaking of change, our summer here in southwestern Nebraska is showing signs of maturing into fall. The trees, with a few exceptions, haven’t “got the word” yet but drive into the country and you will see all the dryland crops are dried up and have quit growing. Even the pasture grasses are getting the mature look that we normally expect from a normal hot summer July. The irrigated corn is yet green with maturing ears that are starting to tip down to shed rainwater. Soybeans are losing their leaves in the dry spots but the soybean plant keeps track of the length of daylight which signals maturity and drying of the pods which contain three beans each. The silage choppers are running and it is time to plant wheat. Farmers are an optimistic lot always looking forward to the next harvest. It is a good life.

Grannie Annie and I are blessed with the presence of three grands. The times and trials of Junior & Senior High ages are a bit different from all the friends we normally associate but it is great fun to watch and remember. Our California grands are used to schools with maybe 2000 members of each grade but here in the McCook School system the numbers are closer to 100 students per grade. They are a bit surprised to find that nearly all the other classmates know their names already. Oh yes we here live a privileged life and most don’t even realize it.

Somehow this old gent has been elected by my high school Class of 1955 to the role of scribe and organizer of reunions. Actually it ‘tis a labor of love. Just this past week I received letters from two former classmates that had not communicated this direction in years and years. Both appreciated the news bulletins I send irregularly with the good news and also the demises of our former mates. Of late the communications are about the upcoming reunion, number 65, to be held during McCook’s Heritage Days celebration this month. Our all school reunion canceled months ago due to the Covid-19 pandemic. My class though all in the age considered most at-risk, adopted a wait and see attitude toward meeting as we have always considered it a “go.”

Looking at the recent Sturgis motorcycle rally where with some 460,000 attendees there were no Covid associated deaths and a miniscule number of participants that even tested positive and yet were asymptomatic for the disease. We are optimistic that everything will be alright. Wish us luck.

That is how I saw it.

Dick Trail