My Dream

I might butcher the following story but I want it. For the future when I look back at this blog.

At one point in time, Dad thought of being a PJ. He didn't want it bad like me. But he did want it. Who wouldn't? No self respecting, strong, patriotic man wouldn't want to be a PJ. Few things are more honorable than saving lives and doing it with an American Flag on your shoulder.

But dad always wanted to be a military pilot more. More than anything. It was his dream. And he chased his dream.

His whole life his parents, family, friends, they all told him he couldn't. His wife (my mom) wouldn't let him join. Five (5) years he waited. Every few months, he would go talk to the recruiter and that spark reignited. Finally he just had to. He told my mom he was going to join after he saw an ad in the paper looking for applicants for Air Force Pilot Training. He applied.

It was rough. Dad wasn't exactly the prime candidate for an Air Force Pilot. But maybe thats what helped him. He had a kid and mom was pregnant with my little brother. He was working as a carpenter but knew he didn't want to do that his whole life. He didn't have a suit. So he took his old Alaska Airlines blazer and popped the buttons off and sewed new ones on. He brought along his flight log. He had taken a few flight lessons when he had saved the little extra he could find.

When he went to the interview, he saw an Alaska Airlines pilot that he had known when he worked as a bagger. His hopes sunk. He went into the interview and spent half the time talking about his Boy Scout experiances and Eagle Scout Project. Then they asked if he knew anyone in the Air Guard.

"My father in law Paxton Oborn was a loadmaster."

"Pat!? Your father-in-law is Pat Oborn!? I knew Pat."

After a bit more chitchat, he left and soon after was hired. He was leaving to become a pilot in the military. Can you imagine his excitement? I remember him leaving to go to training.

The Air Force intentionally lets more guys into pilot training than they will graduate. Which means if you fail a test, they kick you out. Dad was competing against recently graduated Air Force Academy Cadets.  It was tough what he had gotten into. Hard. The most mentally challenging, intensive, and most expensive training program in the U.S. Military. Becoming an Air Force Pilot is just as hard as becoming a Pararescueman. (In a very different way though.)

He came close to quitting. Mom wouldn't let him. (I am a firm believer in being married before I join the military. Its the only way to ensure you have your priorities straight and have an important support system before you join.)

He didn't quit. He stayed with it. His excellent work ethic, maturity and officer behavior helped him make up for his lack of intellectual knowledge the other trainees had.

He flew search and rescue missions all the time in Alaska. One of his primary duties was to refuel pave hawk helicopters midair and send PJs out the back of his HC-130 turboprop aircraft. In 2003 he was deployed to Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom. He flew combat missions and was awarded by the President. In 2005 he flew in Africa. He was patrolling the coasts looking for pirates.

He changed airframes in 2006. Learned how to fly a KC-135 refueling jet. He refueled all kinds of fighter aircraft all over the world.

In 2008 he joined the Coast Guard and flew rescue and law enforcement missions. Nothing as cool as the Air Force, but still important.

Now, his excellent knowledge of aircraft has led him to be the designer of the new Coast Guard Glass Cockpit. (Computerized Instruments.)

He might be sent to learn how to fly UAVs for the Ohio or Texas Air Guard.

I love my dad. Everyone told him he couldn't or wouldn't become a pilot. He took that and shoved it in their face. He is the best pilot in the Coast Guard. Honestly. He doesn't brag but because of his extensive Air Force and combat training, none of the Coast Guard pilots can hold a candle to him.

I have my own dream. Dad got to live his and now its time for me to live mine.


I lay awake every single night day-dreaming of the day I free-fall out of a HC-130 Hercules and parachute into a mountainside, equipped with tactical medical gear ready to save someone who has been lost for a week in the Alaskan wilderness. Or Ill sit and think about/dream about running off a HH-60 Pavehawk and carrying back a U.S. Soldier riddled with bullet holes.

I love adventure and medicine. I want to save lives. I come from a family of Air Guard Babies and I'm patriotic to the core? Both sides of my family have lived in the U.S. since the early-mid 1700's. I take great pride in that.

The life of a military man isn't easy. Being a Pararescueman is 100% harder. Its a young mans job. Tougher on the body and the spirit than any other career in the U.S. Air Force. But somebody has to do it and I think I was meant to. I think I was born to.

I want more than anything to go skydiving. I will leave to go rock climbing, backpacking and mountain climbing in a few weeks. I bought a EMT textbook when I was fifteen. For fun. I get the worst goosebumps when I see a flag and hear the anthem. I stand tall and proud to be American. I was born to be in the Air Force. I was born to protect and serve and save lives.

People have told me I cant. They have said that its just a childhood dream. Not worth making a reality. A stupid was to provide for my family. Dangerous. Scary.

Yeah. I could be a lawyer. I could be a dentist. A CEO. I could work for myself or work for someone else. I could become a professor. I could. I don't want to.

Life is meant to be lived. Heavenly Father made me, knows me and gave me my talents and strengths and weaknesses. He didn't create this earth and his children to sit and rot. He wants me to go leave an impact.

Imagine your dad, hanging by his fingertips from a cliff. He misjudged a step and slipped. Fell. You're screaming for help but it only makes it worse. His fingers and beginning to cramp. He says "I love you." Seconds later, he falls. Breaks both legs and arm on the trees below has a puncture wound and is unconscious.

Pararescue jumps in and begins to revive him. He's stable and headed back to base on the helicopter.

Thats what I want to do. Be someones guardian angel on the worst day of their life. I won't do it for the money. Ha! I won't do it for the pride. They aren't highlighted. These missions go without seeing the print of a newspaper. I just want to do it because its the right thing to do and because I was meant to.

I will succeed. I will make it. I will graduate, and wear my blues with the maroon beret. (Lets hope a PJ never sees this. Id be laughed at and never have a chance to join if I said that to their faces. Its a brotherhood and Im not a part of it. Yet.)

Thats my dream.

Whats yours??