Merry Christmas

Creepy Santas

Cloudy - Hi 64 Lo 52 for Baghdad, Iraq
Sunny - Hi 62 Lo 33 for Qandahar, Afghanistan
Windy - Hi 24 Lo 9 for Northern KY, USA

Song of the week: Santa Claus Is Back In Town, Elvis Presley

Ramble:
It was a strange week... so, no post today... besides, we have a ton of things to accomplish today so this needs to be short. Friday night Michael and I traveled up to Clifton Mill. We have wanted to go there for quite some time. The mill was built in 1802 by a Revolutionary War soldier--- it still stands and is still in operation. The buildings on the property are all original-- including this incredible log cabin. The 3,600,000 lights were spectacular. A computer synchronized light show was very cool. The miniature village was my favorite part... especially the Frisch's Big Boy and the Drive In Movie. One of the things we were looking forward to was seeing the Santa Claus Museum- The family collection of various antique Santa's... some dating back to the 1800's... All I can say... is although interesting... I was pretty creeped out... the volume of noise... all the creepy and dirty Kris Kringles.... and then... there was the "docent" that sat there silently... You'll see her in one of the quick videos I shot... So, to all those planning 2009 Halloween Haunted Houses... consider a Santa Room...









Have a great week everyone!

Lima Company Remembered This Thanksgiving

Scattered Showers - Hi 72 Lo 58 for Baghdad, Iraq
Mostly Sunny - Hi 74 Lo 40 for Qandahar, Afghanistan
Partly Cloudy - Hi 50 Lo 35 for Northern KY, USA

Song of the week: We'll Meet Along the Way, HEM

Ramble:

Go get some coffee first... I have a lot to ramble about this week so bare with me.

This past week I traveled to Pascagoula, Mississippi via Louisville, Atlanta, and Gulfport. (There isn't a direct flight from Cincinnati to Gulfport... and Cincinnati airfare was over $900.00... travel 1 1/2 hours south to Louisville airfare is a little over $300.00... go figure.) The sunny skies were a welcome change although it was a tad chilly for southerners. The flight from Atlanta to Gulfport was humorous in the sense that a handful of pigeons not interested in the chilly climate in Atlanta decided to board our little commuter seeing this would be a much more efficient means of flying south. Too funny... After shooing the pigeons out of the jet, our flight attendant as described by one of my travel mates was no doubt someone who won a law suit with the airlines and was most likely a girls physical education teacher in a previous career... definitely not your stereotypical flight attendant. Prior to take off she broke the cable on the door so we sat and waited for it to be repaired.

Now our trip home from Gulfport to Atlanta was smooth sailing until smoke filled the cabin of the commuter. The pilot's voice came over the intercom stating something to the effect that he had shut off the air conditioning unit... 2 seats ahead of me was a pilot catching a ride home and he and the flight attendant were chatting with a great deal of enthusiasm to the pilot in the cockpit... Once we landed and began to taxi it felt as if we were going to take off again... the pilot floored it and hauled @$$ to the terminal. We pulled up --sort of-- to a terminal... this time the pilot calmly stated, "please quickly gather your belongings and exit the plane quickly and calmly." Nice. I was in row 3 and was off the plane and on the tarmac where I saw one of the engines smoking... good times.

We stayed at the Beau Rivage in Biloxi- a very nice casino and resort on the gulf. You may remember Jim Cantore standing in front of the Beau Rivage reporting on Hurricane Katrina. The Hard Rock Cafe Casino and Resort was next door under construction. Needless to say, after Katrina... the Hard Rock was gone and the Beau Rivage was in bad shape. The last time I saw the Beau Rivage all the windows had been blown out, part of it was missing. It has been a while since I was last down here, still a lot of devastation, but the rebuilding continues. The picture to the left was taken with my cell phone, so it is pretty poor quality. You can see the top of the neck of the Hard Rock guitar in the lower left... But that sunrise was spectacular. The only thing that was missing was my better half.

Besides the meeting we had with our customer, (and returning home safely) the most important part of the trip for me was seeing all the men and women in uniform. Every flight we had included active duty servicemen. All were heading overseas. I can't tell you how humbling it is to see these young men and women preparing themselves. This time of year we are all busy with thoughts of the holidays... the hustle and bustle. Take a moment to remember them. They are off to be in harms way.

So with thoughts of the men and women I saw in the airports earlier in the week. On Thursday, after I was back home safe and sound and since I had the day off, I went to Union Terminal to see the Lima Company Memorial. Words can not express how moving this memorial is.

The faces of the young men were absolute perfection. Anita Miller, the inspired artist, captured the spirit of each of the young bright eyed men. I was captivated by each one. I can not express adequately what it was like to stand there. The portraits form a circle. To look at the portraits you must enter that circle and you are then surrounded by these men. Even though these are paintings of the men, there is a sense of safety in that perimeter, a sense of camaraderie between those men that we mere civilians will never comprehend. In front of each portrait are the actual combat boots of the young man that wore them. The families provided the boots and I must tell you that was probably the toughest part of this exhibit. On the outer perimeter of the circle are the names of each young man, their age, their rank, their hometown. There are flowers, letters and other memorabilia left by loved ones allowing those of us not lucky to have known them in life an opportunity to capture a glimpse of what they were, who they were.

Here are the photos... the lighting was not optimal, but I hope you gather a sense of what it was like to stand in the middle of these fallen heroes.

Anita Miller was able to capture the spark of each young man. They were alive and popped off the canvas, the personal items added to this. I was there pretty much by myself and spent about two hours looking at the paintings and reading the letters and cards and looking at the scrapbooks and photos. To the families and loved ones of these young men lost three years ago, my heart and prayers go out to you. The sacrifice you have endured is more than I can imagine. I thank you for raising sons that felt such a calling must be answered. I thank the wives and fiances and girlfriends for loving these young men. I thank the siblings and cousins and friends and all those that were touched by these fine men. My heart goes to the children of these men. Your father was a hero and I am so sorry you will only know him through the pictures and stories you are told.

Semper Gratus.

Click on each photo to enlarge.

Eric Bernholz, Dustin Derga, and Nick Erdy

Dustin

Nick's Boots

Nick

Tim Bell, Justin Hoffman, and Nicholas Bloem


William Wightman, Augie Schroeder, and Grant Fraser
The following was read at Grant's eulogy. Grant was not from the state of Ohio, but from Alaska. It is quite moving and gives a you a glimpse of the man and how he was seen by those that loved him.
Chris Dixon, Travis Youngblood, and Wesley Davids

Recollections of Chris

Wesley was from California. Below is a photocopy of the letter he penned in the event he was killed. Although profoundly personal, his family thought it was important enough to share. To be so young and to be so brave, to understand what his calling was... to be able to share these thoughts so clearly with his loved ones...


Wes
Andre Williams, Michael Cifuentes, and David Kreuter


Andre's Mom took a shirt he wore and made this frame. The shirt was starting to wear out on the back. So personal. I wept when I touched it.



Kendall Ivy, David Wimberg, and Jonathan Grant
Jourdan Grez, Chris Dyer, and Aaron Reed


Chris was from Cincinnati. I was privileged to shake his father's hand
Anthony Goodwin and Chris Lyons


So this Thursday, as we sit down with our families, some more dysfunctional than others. Be kind to each other (unless it is your flaming lib Aunt who just won't shut up). Thank God for blessing us for being born in a country where we are free and can choose our own path in life. Take a moment as you are saying the blessing or toasting each other to say a prayer or raise a glass to these men from Lima Company. There are others there today that have also answered the calling. Say a prayer for them too.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

Amish Country And Remembering Nick Erdy

Sunny - Hi 73 Lo 54 for Baghdad, Iraq
Sunny - Hi 66 Lo 39 for Qandahar, Afghanistan
Flurries - Hi 39 Lo 34 for Northern KY, USA

Song of the week: Ghost in this House, Allison Krauss and Union Station

Ramble:

Michael made our annual trek up to Amish country this past Friday. He and I were absolutely giddy about the trip--- definitely an "old people moment". Really, you would have thought we were on our way to Cancun... Holmes County, Ohio is about 3 1/2 hours northeast of us. We had perfect weather and it was simply a beautiful day. It was the first time we had ever visited on a Friday and this late in the year---We typically make the drive to see the fall colors. That wasn't in the cards this year, but seriously, it was so much more enjoyable... far less people.. We quickly realized Friday is wash day in Amish country--- We saw clothing out drying everywhere. It was pleasant to see-- reminded me of being a kid and my grandma hanging the laundry outside to dry. I remember the clothes line posts that she would secure under the clothes line to hike the line up high so the clothing wouldn't drag. I remember the sheets billowing in the breeze and running in between them, making believe it was a curtain to a stage where I would perform some brilliant song for all to hear. I still remember how wonderful the sheets would smell when she would pull them off the line...

Now, the food in Amish country is... Oh my gosh... incredible... homemade pies and bread. We had dinner at a place called Boyd & Wurthmann Restaurant. It was cozy--- home cooked food. Served by lovely young Mennonite and Amish girls, the service was impeccable, the portions- huge... It was at this point we decided that someone should invent a gravy that could also be used as a dip. OMG...
We went to some of the shops but only found a couple of places that interested us--a bulk food store... which was pretty cool for Michael and an incredible antique store. In fact, I have never seen it's equal anywhere. Run by another member of the Amish community- I could not believe how many pieces I found that I instantly fell in love with. I have quite literally been looking for a china closet for 10 years. I found at least a dozen there I could have taken home at that moment. The rest of the shops we visited were of the "cute variety". The choxkie--- the overly cute painted signs that say things like, "friendship" and "love" with teddy bears and cute snowmen painted on wood or tin all of which is made in China or India... you know, the stuff you find in the Tenderhearts mail order catalog. The trip was rejuvenating for the mind and soul. Next time, hopefully we will leave with a beautiful piece of furniture hand crafted by someone over a century ago- or possibly a beautifully handmade quilt... or one of those way cool Amish made wicker baskets. Our focus was on the scenery and those areas not inundated by tourism, but rather the freshly plowed fields and the laundry and the big skies, rolling hills and gorgeous valleys, and the young Amish children selling their wares and tending their chores... very nice...very nice indeed.

On Saturday, November 22, the Fourth Annual Dinner and Auction benefiting the Nick Erdy Foundation will take place. I never knew Nick, but like so many in this community, I felt I did. I have written about him and others we lost from Lima Company. He is still remembered. He is not forgotten. A memorial for those lost from the 3/25 in 2005 has arrived in Cincinnati it has been on display in Ohio's State Capital since Memorial Day. In the coming days, I will make the trip to Union Terminal to remember those fine young men. I expect it to be highly emotional.
Nick Erdy and Dustin Derga were best friends. Dustin was killed on May 8. Nick was killed on May 11. They had plans together... to become firemen... or to open a bar in Florida... to live their lives... to get married to their girls back home, who also had become close friends. May 2005 changed everything for those in Lima Company, 3rd Battalion, 25th Regiment. Remember them. Keep them in your hearts, pray for their families and loved ones. Pray for those still in harms way. Thank them when given the opportunity.

Watch this:


I found this heartbreaking note from Kristen, Dustin's girlfriend.

for all of you from the 3/25 who gave the ultimate sacrafice, we salute you. There are not enough men out there who would pick up a gun and go fight for their country. It is a shame that more people could not be like you... You served and lived for a purpose and that is more than most can say... you fought for freedom, your families, friends and the future of America...You had an honorable job and you held up your end of the bargin... It is like that Toby Keith song.. "American Soldier." "And I dont want to die for you but if dyings asked of me, I'll bare that cross with honor cause freedom don't come free!" You all are the true definition of HERO and that will never be taken from you. I regret not being able to meet all of you.... but the ones I did know... CPL Dustin Derga and LCPL Nick Erdy, were among the greatest people I have ever met. Fun loving, carefree, and full of commitment to the United States Marine Corps and their fellow Americans. You boys will forever be in our hearts! And the only thing we ask of you now is to watch over you fellow soldiers and bring them home to us! To the rest of the 3/25... You are in our thoughts and prayers! Just remember those men who lost their lives will now be fighting next to you for the rest of their lives... and in return just live your life with them in mind... never forget!! Fight hard... Come home safe!!! We will all be waiting for your return....
SEMPER FI... Kristin (Derga's girlfriend)

For more information on the dinner and auction for The Nick Erdy Foundation click here

Have a great week everyone!

Remembering Mr. Kraus

Rain - Hi 71 Lo 63 for Baghdad, Iraq
Sunny - Hi 85 Lo 50 for Qandahar, Afghanistan
Sunny - Hi 65 Lo 36 for Northern KY, USA

Song of the week: I Need a Lover, Johnny Cougar
Before John Mellencamp was John Mellencamp, he was Johnny Cougar and then later John Cougar. This name was a record company decision and not his... Eventually he was able to be John Mellencamp. I like John Cougar and even some of the John Cougar Mellencamp stuff. . His breakout album of course was 1982's American Fool album-- the one that had Jack and Diane, Hurt So Good and my favorite from that album Have a Hand to Hold On To. The year I graduated was the year of "little pink houses"... Oh Gawd... yuck. But it also had the song Play Guitar which is simply fun. I like his older stuff... the Sunday Song is funny... there is a sense of humor to the lyrics and the composition of the song pulls you in and builds to a crescendo- an exclamation of needing someone that won't make him crazy! Along the way and over the years John became angry. He takes himself way too seriously. He also picked up the paint brush and has done some interesting art work. Like his present day persona, it is dark, thick, unattractive and angry. I'm not sure why the small town boy became so angry... maybe he has forgotten... something... I hope he can find his happiness. Life is too short.

Ramble:
As a kid, I was incredibly fortunate to have a great deal of stand out teachers. My Kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Reed held my hand and introduced me to other kids in the class... being painfully shy... she took a great deal of time to make sure I was OK.

Mrs. Sleichter was about 102 years old when I had her as my 2nd grade teacher... Gawd she was mean. But for whatever reason, I really liked her. I remember there was this kid that was always throwing up in class, so the janitor would always have to come in and throw that kitty litter stuff down... I remember she was forever sending him to the corner because the kid got sick all the time. She insisted we were all old enough to realize when we weren't feeling well and should ask to be excused. She was a strict disciplinarian... and did not tolerate fidgety 7 and 8 year olds. Mrs. Sleichter was the only teacher to impose corporal punishment upon my behind...why? Because she had issued a dictate... "The next person to drop their pencil will go out in the hallway for a swat." Ya... you guessed it... I dropped my pencil...

My 4th grade teacher was Mrs. Carroll and I loved her... all the kids did... She was beautiful and smart and kind and generous and young. She read Ramona to us... This particular grade school was in a town that was supported by GM and the plant had closed... it was predominantly blue collar, unemployed, and single parent homes. My neighborhood was gross... I digress. Anyway the two 4th grade teachers took a great deal of time with the kids... We were pushed in reading and math and history. We were studying Japan and Mrs. Carroll asked if I would teach the rest of the students how to use chop sticks... That was disastrous... buttons and chopsticks everywhere... Because so many kids came from broken homes, Mrs. Carroll took time with each of her students. She was engaged and an active participant in our formative years. She called home and spoke to my mom on a regular basis. She knew our situation and how late my mom worked. Mrs. Carroll would often stay late at school with me to help ease some of the monetary woes my mom had and this helped a great deal with the cost of a sitter. Anyway, toward the end of the school year Mrs. Carroll indicated to the class that she was moving away and wouldn't be back. She was 24 and was moving with her husband to support him while he finished obtaining his Master's degree. We all cried. It was horrible. She promised to write all of us, but in turn we would have to write her. I kept in contact with Mrs. Carroll up through high school. She was a source of advice and friendship. She was a wonderful and kind person and I wish I had stayed in touch. I had heard that after she put her husband through several years of school and a number of affairs, he divorced her. Terrible.

Then in 8th grade I had Mr. Benton... my uncles and father had this man as a teacher... This man walked to the beat of his own drum and did not apologize for it. He was a large robust man with a large booming voice with a Kentucky accent. He had the same buzz haircut in the 70's as he did in the 50's. He wore black horn rimmed glasses, navy blue work pants and suspenders every day. He was the first history teacher I had that expected us to pay attention and to pay attention to what was happening in the world today. He loved our country and what it stood for. It was the first time I remember recognizing that sort of pride in someone outside my own family. He would make proclamations about organized religion and that if he wanted to go out in the front of the school yard and worship under the tree, he could do that. Why? Because this was America! A staunch conservative and a little crazy? Perhaps.

Mrs. Zando was our English Lit teacher and she introduced me to Shakespeare and the Greek and Roman gods and goddesses and all the wonderful mythological stories. She loved Shakespeare and it is because of her, that I have such an appreciation. At that time, my grandmother had given me a charm bracelet and each birthday and holiday she would add to it. Mrs. Zando asked if she could contribute to my bracelet. She gave me a delightful little silver Dutch shoe from when she had visited Holland... It is still on my charm bracelet. To this day, I love reading mythology.

High school brought a handful of teachers that made a difference in my life... Mrs. Brough, Mr. Wolfe, Mr. Enders--- he loved Dolly Parton, and Mr. Kraus.

Mr. Kraus is the reason for this week's post. Jimi, an old friend brought to my attention that Mr. Kraus had tragically died this past May. The news hit me like a ton of bricks. NO. This was not possible. Mr. Kraus was the only teacher I had all four years of high school. So, he literally watched me grow up.

He was one of my art teachers- being art class-- there was considerably less structure, the radio was usually playing in the background, kids talked and joked during class-- creativity was not inspired by a module of time but by life, so if one wasn't creative during the class... well, one had to be creative at home or before or after school. I never do well without structure. It is my nature to become lazy. Mr. Kraus was a good teacher. He encouraged me in my first couple of years of high school. He obviously realized my shy nature and worked to help me express through art. He pushed me to enter a couple of competitions and I did OK receiving recognition for my work. As a junior I was coming into my own, but at the same time I was more interested in being social and was not disciplined in maintaining my school work and it was easy to keep things from my mom. Besides, my creativity was in my head... actually putting brush to canvas or pencil to paper did not come naturally for me. I had to really focus... and practice... There were so many other kids that had this incredible gift... Jimi and Rodney. In any event the classroom was always loose and free spirited. I remember always laughing and having fun in his class. Mr. Kraus loved music. He was a huge fan of John Cougar. Jimi reminded me that Mr. Kraus had seen the Stray Cats and Jimi, Gary and I were so jealous. He also saw Men at Work and brought back a pin for me... I still have it. We talked about music and art and stuff...

The other thing... Mr. Kraus could not spell... he was horrible... another friend, Scott would mercilessly make fun of him. It was always in good spirit and fun.

Mr. Kraus was around for every single boy I dated during high school. He teased me about some of my selections...from a competing school. One day late in my junior year Mr. Kraus pulled me aside and asked me what I was going to do- what my plans were- he was disappointed because I had not really worked on pulling together a portfolio to get into art school. In fact, I had not even applied. He expressed his concern that although I had an eye for composition and perspective and story, I had not applied myself to learn fundamentals. He expressed his concern for my lack of discipline and he did not want to see me waste any of my talent. At the time I had picked up photography and was into that, but it was more of a means of documenting my teenage life and not an artistic outlet. His message was loud and clear and a pill I chose not to swallow. My senior year was filled with more of the same- fun and frolicking. Mr. Kraus was part of our lives and we enjoyed our time in his class. He pulled me aside one more time and asked me what I was going to do about college.

I told him I needed to work for at least a year before heading off to college. Grants and scholarships were not going to cover it and I wasn't about to ask my mom for assistance. He made me promise that I would never give up on art and asked that I keep in touch. I graduated and my life went on... it took a different direction than I expected, but one that I am quite happy with.

Over the years I have often thought of Mr. Kraus. I had promised Mr. Kraus I would come by and visit him but never did. He was good to me- he wasn't just a teacher, he was a friend and he wanted the best for us. He was honest with me and thought I was wasting my talent. When Jimi's sister died, I wanted to contact him. When Rodney committed suicide, I wanted to contact him. I never did. I wanted to invite him to my wedding but for whatever goofy reason, I changed my mind. So, this past week, Jimi told me about Mr. Kraus. He had Parkinson's Disease, was confined to a wheelchair, living in a nursing home... divorced with 2 kids... 20 and 16 years old. He had gone to see a band--- still passionate about live music. On his way home, he was hit by a car. Those on the scene performed CPR in an attempt to save his life, but it was too late. He was only 56 years old.

How cruel life can be... a man who used his hands and fingers to create- stricken with a disease that steals that gift from him.
I never had the chance to thank him. He was the first person in my life to offer me real constructive criticism... he was right... I did lack self discipline. I need structure, I know that about myself now... and I move through life accordingly.
Upon reading the news about Mr. Kraus, I wrote Jimi, "...despite his life situation, I hope and pray he was happy--proud of his kids-- still listening to music, appreciating art and finding that talented young soul-- that diamond in the rough. There were so many talented kids that went through his class. I pray even though he was alone that night, he wasn't alone in spirit and that he was loved. "

Teachers are amazing and wonderful creatures. You don't realize the lives you touch and to what extent. Mr. Kraus was only in my life for four short years, but the mark he left will remain with me always.

Although I never went back to visit Mr. Kraus, I did keep my other promise. I never gave up on art. It is still just as important to me today as it was 25 years ago. It is a rare day that I pick up my sketch pad, but I always stop and see the art. Thank you, Mr. Kraus.

Mothra Lives!!

So yesterday I was out in Scooter Trash Hubby's veggie garden picking cherry tomatoes to take to my mom... We had a horrible storm a few weeks ago and all of Michael's plants have been knocked over, so navigating the garden is a little bit of a challenge... Anyway, there I was picking and smiling and thinking how much my mother will appreciate these delightful bits of yum when all of a sudden I saw what I thought was some sort of lizard... OK, after I screamed (surprisingly none of our neighbors came to my rescue- ok.. maybe not so surprising-- consider the fact I have an antisocial tendency). Upon closer inspection, it was a moth... As my oldest niece would text.. OMG!! Ya ain't kiddin' Oh My Gawd! Good grief-- I have never ever seen a moth that huge ever. I took a couple of pictures with my cell phone so the pics aren't that great, but it should give you an idea... This sucker was as as long as my hand from the tip of my pinky finger to my wrist.... icky... ewww... gross.

Learn to Fly Part I

Sunny - Hi 113 Lo 89 for Baghdad, Iraq
Sunny - Hi 106 Lo 79 for Qandahar, Afghanistan
Sunny - Hi 85 Lo 65 for Northern KY, USA

Song of the week: Learn to Fly (1999), Foo Fighters

Ramble:

It's been a few weeks since I have had a chance to write anything. Our hard drive went kaput for the 2nd time--- It seems that Dell either designed or Dell employees assembled the hard drive with the fan installed backwards... nice. Anyway- we are back up and running with minimal loss to data.

Nothing new to report-- I've been working on a post for a while, but I can't seem to get it right... I just come off sounding like a conspiracy theory freak or a "we're all gonna die-- Game Over! " Aliens style nut case... so I'll keep playing with it until the time and words are right. Oh and by the way... and to make it crystal clear--- There isn't a United States Marine that would ever behave like Bill Paxton's character did in Aliens.... ever.

So, anyway, last Sunday Michael and I after a 3 year hiatus made it back to the Dayton Air Show--- specifically to see the F-22 Raptor. H*o*l*y C*r*a*p! This aircraft without a doubt should have our enemies shaking in their boots... For a fighter, this aircraft is huge--- 62 ft long with a wingspan of near 45 ft. Compare that to an F-16 (Viper or Fighting Falcon- you pick) which is not quite 48 ft. long with a wingspan of 31 ft... This girl, the F-22, although big and bulky looking is in fact very swift and manueverable.... she is stealthy, she can cruise at supersonic airspeeds with out using afterburners... She is one fierce bird and our enemies should be fearful... The best part and what is so reassuring about the F-22? It is a United States only asset. No sharing with NATO countries... all ours baby. Stick that.

I'm including some really bad video I took-- no editing---keeping up with the F-22 was no small feet... the camera could not stay focused and that was on the slow pass. In part II, a separate post are a few of the photos I took. Enjoy.

Have a great week everyone!

C-17 Globemaster footage




F-22 Raptor footage




Heritage Flight - F-22, F-16, and P-51

Learn to Fly Part II

Click to enlarge photos--

For all you non-geeks, here is a little key to help you understand the kind of aircraft you are looking at:

A = Attack
B = Bomber
C = Cargo
F = Fighter
H = Helicopter
P = Pursuit
V = Vertical

Misty Blues All Women Sky Diving Team - National Anthem- couldn't be beat


F-16 pilots watching Misty Blues--- "why would anyone jump out of a perfectly good plane?"
Wright B Flyer

"The Collaborators" - Includes Sean Tucker, son Eric Tucker, Bill Stein and Ben Freelove
2 AH-64D Appache Helicopters and an F-16 Fighting Falcon
An emergency landing by this 747 shut down the airport and the airshow--- were you on this flight?
Going through the checklist prior to flight
WWII B-25

My darling, the C-130


F-16 pilot signing autographs -- A hero kids SHOULD have!
F/A-18 Super Hornet and F4U Corsair (WWII)
C-17 Globemaster

perspective shot

F-22 Raptor --- all I can say is incredible, wow, and OMG.
P-51 Mustang WWII

Long day- slept right through the very loud F-22 demonstration

Newest Generation F-22 Raptor, then the F-16 Fighting Falcon, and P-51 Mustang

On static display --- The Marines very own V22 Osprey - I have still not seen one of these things fly

How's that for a paint job?


Blogs and Links to Check Out This Week:

WW is back- Go say hi!

Have a great week everyone!