Remarkably, unlike most Americans, I do not personally know of anyone who has served our country in battle; and, I have not served and seen combat myself.
During the course of my life, certainly, I have had my share of victories and, yes, my share of "losses" as well (although the "losses" have occurred mostly in the game of life...with my coming up short in all manner of pursuits and endeavors). So, in that regard, I know something about hurt and pain (but, not in the deepest sense - not like civilians or airmen who suffered the loss of someone they knew or airmen who were killed themselves).
Therefore, when I visited the Air Force Memorial today, what I felt was not some kind of reminiscence. I did not suddenly think of an uncle or a friend (nor did I conjure up some dark experience that I once faced myself). Instead, when I entered the stately grounds of the memorial and noticed the three stainless steel spires, which are its centerpiece, I did not think of airmen, service, and sacrifice necessarily, but something akin to grace and austerity. These feelings, which arose more from my appreciation of design and form (and which only slightly hinted at anything philosophical), grew much more intense when I began reading the many inscriptions that were carved at intervals alongside the walkways.
One inscription, attributed to George W. Bush read: "A soldier can walk the battlefields where he once fought; a marine can walk the beaches he once stormed; but an airman can never visit the patch of sky he raced across on a mission to defend freedom. And so it's fitting that the men and women of the air force have this memorial, a place here on the ground that recognizes their achievements and sacrifices in the skies above."
Of course, I had thought, in a rather Taoist way, that having a "patch of sky" was its own reward...that like birds, flying through the sky, we should not allow any thought or emotion (be it desirable or aversive) to linger but, rather, dissipate like the very flight of a bird that leaves no trace.
Maybe, however, because we are imperfect (and not like birds), we need the ground more than the sky. Sometimes, perhaps, when we are feeling frail and vulnerable, we need to reflect and have thoughts and even burdens that do not simply dissipate beneath the flapping wings of a bird (or the rigid wings of a jet fighter). Maybe, because we are who we are, we need to take steps...one at a time (and, then, look back occasionally, to check for them).
As much as I'd like to proceed effortlessly like a bird, I know, really, that I am nowhere close to being that free and that I too (like our bravest airmen), would feel somehow imcomplete...
If all I had to show for my thoughts and actions was simply a patch of sky... read more