Reunion at Lake Paradise (MO)

"They talked in the shorthand of old friends and shared memories."  - Dee Henderson; Before I Wake

Terrie, Bradley, Kristy, & Wes at Lake Paradise, Missouri

The military life is one of certain uncertainty; of unfamiliar familiarities.  Complete strangers—up-rooted and relocated to strange surroundings—are compelled to form a bond for mutual survival.  This scene has played out millions of times throughout the millennia, and continues until today.  Some bonds are temporary.  Some are permanent.  Regardless of the longevity of these bonds, it is understood that life within the profession-of-arms is transient.  With the exception of airline flight attendants, there is probably no other profession that says “goodbye” as often.  So when an opportunity presents to reunite with a fellow Airman, the occasion is always special.

Everyone has rough stretches of road in the course of their lives.  It is expected—but having solid support during those times is a luxury and a blessing.  In the early days of my Air Force career, my life path took me to Langley AFB, Virginia.  It was during this time that my “life’s pathway” crossed the pathway of another young Airman—Bradley Williams.

Brad and I hit it off immediately, and possessed some of the same characteristics and interests.  We became good friends, and subsequently deployed together during OPERATION DESERT SHIELD/DESERT STORM.  Upon our return from the war we remained friends, and continued our careers within our respective professions.  Bradley was always striving to better himself, so it was no surprise that he would not settle for the Emergency Medical Technician required of his career specialty, but rather attain the much more advanced Paramedic Certification.  His perseverance in pushing himself to remain a student of his profession inspired my wife Kristy to attain her Paramedic Certification as well.  

A few years pass and Brad came to the crossroads that all military members reach every 4-6 years—remain in the military or make the transition into civilian life.  Brad decided to leave the military, but continue his medical expertise in emergency medicine.  We said our goodbyes, wished each other the best, and hoped that our respective paths would cross again…someday.

Seventeen years later.

I had returned from Okinawa and was on Terminal Leave awaiting my final retirement date.  Out of the blue I received a message (via FaceBook) from Brad.  We exchanged a few greetings and niceties, but it had been a long time since we’d last met, and I was unsure if he’d even recognize the free-wheeling, living-on-the-edge rebel that I no longer was.  Time changes everyone, and it has certainly done an extreme makeover on me.

His Facebook profile listed him as working with disabled veterans (no surprise there) in the Kansas City area.  Since Kansas City was not on our Chrysalis-L tour  listing, I didn’t have any great expectations that we would cross paths again…someday.  Now that the moons had aligned, and we were within a few hours, we knew we had to make some type of attempt to reconnect in person.  You never know if you’ll get this chance again…someday.

"Older times we're missing, spending the hours reminiscing.” - Little River Band; Reminiscing

I contacted Brad and let him know of our travel route through the Kansas City area.  Kristy and I selected a nice RV resort south of Independence, Missouri; and we arranged a date to have our own 3-person reunion.  Our faces and bodies were older, with more mileage than the odometer truthfully displays; but we reconnected just where we left off.  Brad was intuitive enough to realize that I was a rookie when it came to being a civilian—with a paucity of retiree attire—so he brought me an “island shirt” (which I didn’t have any of) and an official veterans hat (OPERATION DESERT STORM series).

Crusty 'ol retired veterans club

As Brad & I reminisced, he recalled times in my life—good times—that I had completely forgotten.  He resurrected names of people that time had erased from my memory.  He filled-in missing pieces of history that I was unaware of regarding mutual friends—telling of their successes and influences on other peoples lives.  I was experiencing an oratory version of a dusty old photo album encompassing my earlier years.  Since Brad was also a mutual friend of Kristy, she was taking a walk down amnesia lane as well.  

Perfect end to a day: watching the sun set while fishing next to the campfire

Brad and his wife Terrie spent a few days with us at the lake, telling stories (mostly true), fishing, and taking in the sunsets.  Our wives even let us take a solo trip to Walmart dressed in our island shirts and veteran hats…and hopefully that surveillance video has been taped over by now.  

Similar to the scene seventeen years earlier, we exchanged goodbye hugs, dried our eyes, and wished each other the best.  The downside of the transient lifestyle was still fully understood.  It was nothing short of a blessing to be able to reconnect with such a loyal friend from days-gone-by.  As our lives continue to morph into the future, we still remain uncertain as to how many times we will get the opportunity to break bread face-to-face; but we both know that we have every intention on reconnecting again…someday.

He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

wWw