Seems strangely quiet

When planes make their approach into TIA to the south, they pass right over Skyshadow. We’re under the primary southern approach path to runway 18 of TIA and passenger liners can be heard overhead nearly all day long. But I was just outside for the first time today and it was eerily quiet. No planes making it into TIA and no military aircraft making their approach into MacDill which lies south of TIA.

No distant roar of I-75. We’re about three miles from it and the buzz and hum, though mostly faint, can be very apparent at times. It’s virtually quiet right now.

Which leaves only the sounds of birds, mostly a couple of families of mockingbirds, which can ease any stress one might have. They can sing continuously for hours. It is as if they do it out of simple joy. There are also cardinals and small “tweeties” flitting about making their presence more apparent than usual.

So, it is very quiet here at Skyshadow right now, and it “feels” nice. I wonder why. It is as if something is about to happen, or maybe already has and I don’t know what it is.

“Skyshadow” is our name for our place. Each Marine Corps aircraft squadron in Vietnam was given a name, a call. My squadron’s call, HMM 164, was Skyshadow. It carries a significance for me now, an odd feeling of satisfaction, or maybe luck. I believe it may relate to having done it and survived when so many did not. I say “done it” purposely, because saying I “experienced it” doesn’t cover the “all” of it. Does that make any sense?

Speaking of the military, I was at the VA’s dermatology center day before yesterday for a little Mohs surgery, which as you may know is a process that takes hours as one waits for each specimen to be analyzed. If it’s positive, they take another, widening the cut and analyzing again.

A VA hospital is a place where it is not uncommon for conversations between those waiting, to have conversations about one’s military experience. There is always waiting involved at "the VA." 30 years ago, the oldest of the veterans were survivors of WWII or the Korean thing. Today, with a few exceptions, the oldest ones are Vietnam vets. It was noteworthy to me that that now included me. I remember being much younger back then and wondering what those older guys' experiences must have been. Now I see some of the younger guys looking at me the same way.

My waiting included a couple of fellows who were also Vietnam vets. One was my age and acting very nervous. Jumpy. He said it was because they had given him some high dosage of prednisone. He kept asking, “Can you believe it?”, while his wife just kept looking at her phone, ignoring his tale of how his injuries came about. After hearing this conversation, another Vietnam vet offered that he must be the baby of the group. He said he was 80. He smiled. I smiled. But the jumpy one acted as if he didn’t hear.

So, another thing about a VA hospital is that they are incredibly busy. And for some reason, veterans seem to be prone to complain about things. Maybe it’s a “just being a G.I.” thing. Part of the culture. But I’ll say that Haley is an amazing place. They treat thousands every day for some of the most egregious afflictions, and they are, as far as I’m concerned, the best at what they do, which they do with great respect and friendliness. I believe most of the complaints I hear are from those who find it somehow makes them feel better, and without significant merit.

I know. I’m rambling.

So, anyway. Pam and I hope you are appreciating just what an incredible country America has become over the last 250 years, and how easily it can be dismantled. It’s up to you younger people now to fix things when they go wrong - which they have - and the only way to do it with any lasting effect is to vote. Please make a special effort to do that.

(I hear thunder outside now. A good thing!)

Happy Birthday America

Best of luck.