The first time I met any of the Tuskegee airmen was on the East Coast at a military seminar. Gen Yeager was one of the speakers as was this fellow. This particular fellow had been in a controversial storm many years before. He had claimed Fighter Ace status years after World War II, claiming he had a 5th “kill” during World War II.
I don’t know who set “5” as the magic number and I don’t know the circumstances. I don’t know how many he shot down successfully. I do know that regardless of how many; people today very much appreciate the contributions of all pilots, navigators, gunmen, black, white, female, and personnel who contributed to the war effort and especially those who put themselves in harm’s way for the rest of us. I guess those who weren’t keen on the claiming it so many years later thought it put too much emphasis on how many, rather than on duty.
The effects of the controversy could be seen. This man was not terribly relaxed and while polite, not very affable when I met him. There was not the comraderie with other WWII pilots.
While the seminars were going on, I had gone to the library where they had posters of various USAF military groups that the library was getting rid of. I jumped on it.
They had only one of the Tuskegee airmen. It was very cool – very well designed. Probably the best of the bunch.
As I walked back to the housing, I started walking slowly and having a discussion with myself.
Me: I bet the Tuskegee airman here would like this.
Other Me: But I like it.
Me: It would mean more to him.
Other Me: It would mean a lot to me.
Me: He’d probably appreciate it.
Other Me: He might not. What if he just throws it away? He’s kinda stern.
Me: Then just ask him if he would like it and if not, you’d keep it.
Other Me: But I found it. I like it. Do I always have to give away everything?
Me: Well, maybe, he may not want it – but you should offer it.
Other Me: I walked all the way over to the library, found it, carried it all the way back, while he was having fun doing something, can’t I keep it?
Me: Just knock on his door.
Other Me: What if he’s mean? He wasn’t very friendly when I met him…
Me. I knocked.
The Tuskegee Airmen answered.
I smiled and said, I’m Victoria, I’m with General Yeager, you may remember me?
TA (very stern, somewhat dismissive, but curious): Yes.
Other Me to Me: See? I’m not giving it to him – Run! Run! Pick up your skirts and run! Keep the poster! – it may be awkward at dinner later as to why a grown woman knocked on a door and ran but –
Instead though I said out loud: I found this poster and thought you might like to have it and –
Well, you would have thought I had given him gold or a ticker tape parade or….kindness.
It took a little time for it to sink in. When he realized I wasn’t asking for a statement, wasn’t challenging him, wasn’t asking for an autograph, or photo; just simply giving him this poster, his eyes teared up as he stared at me, then the poster, then me.
I handed it to him. He appeared to be studying it – clearly finding a way to take a moment – looked up at me and simply whispered: “Thank you.” And smiled a beautiful, warm smile.
I of course was battling the contagious tears, and simple said, “You’re welcome!” and smiled back.
He seemed to be wondering if he should give me something in return and what it could be, so I, still smiling, removed all concerns by saying: “See ya at dinner!” as I headed down the walkway for my door.
What a gift this Tuskegee Airman gave me!
c. GCYI