Can redemption come 52 years later?
After recently witnessing the reception my father-in-law received upon returning from an Honor Flight to Washington, D.C., I think it can.
A little context …
If you’re unfamiliar with the Honor Flight concept, it’s a philanthropically supported effort to pay for travel and lodging for America’s veterans to visit the nation’s capital so they can see the nation’s military memorials.
Here in our region, the effort was begun by the Forum Communications Co.-owned WDAY TV nearly 20 years ago, when the station raised funds to take hundreds of area World War II veterans to Washington.
Over the years, the organization was taken over by a grassroots, non-profit group and has continued to raise funds to keep sending veterans to D.C., with recent flights filled with veterans from the Korean and Vietnam war eras, my father-in-law among them on their most recent flights in September.
The most recent flight was historic in that the local organization sent for its first time ever two planes simultaneously, fully loaded with more than 225 veterans, with one lone World War II veteran among them.
And so you can about imagine the raucous reception that was held at our local, regional airport for these heroes when they arrived home after two days in the Capital. Hundreds upon hundreds of well-wishers gathered to welcome home. So many that organizers had to arrange for parking at a nearby youth soccer complex, and bus the veterans’ loved ones into the airport terminal.
Because we are still just a small city, our airport I suspect is a little more lax about gatherings such as this, and by the time the first of the two planes carrying veterans came taxing up to the terminal, the top and bottom level of the airport was filled with people waving flags, and holding up signs and balloons, and there even was a large band playing patriotic music to joy of all.
The organizers of the Honor Flight had designed it so that upon exiting the secure area of the terminal, the veterans and their guests would walk through a long tunnel of welcoming loved ones, friends and proud community members, held back by rope lines the length of the airport.
Just how touching the entire scene was is impossible to describe in words.
Our small collection of well-wishers -- my mother-in-law Julie (seen above!); wife, Shelley; daughter, Siri; brother-in-law Ryan; and myself -- gathered on the top tier of the airport terminal, positioned no more than 25 feet away from the security exit, so that we were assured that we’d be among the first folks whom my father-in-law, Gary, would see.
All around us, joyous people waited anxiously for their loved ones as well! The mood was one of a giant celebration, and folks were determined to give the veterans a rousing welcome home!
First off the first plane was the World War II veteran, whose entrance inspired the crowd to erupt in applause and cheers when he was rolled in his wheelchair through the security doors on the second floor of the airport. … A celebrity rock star wouldn’t couldn’t have received a more boisterous reception.
And then other veterans, their guests and Honor Flight volunteers started to trickle through doors to a somewhat subtler reception, but no less sincerity from the hometown crowd.
Eventually, there was my father-in-law, and walking next to him was the flight’s doctor, who was also holding his bag. … Many days later, he would share with me that despite his protests to the doctor carrying his bag on the plane, she told him, “We’re not going anywhere until you hand that bag over. I’ll carry it, and you’re going to shake hands with the people.”
As he made his way down the rope line, Gary made his way to where we were standing. He stopped to introduce us to the doctor, and you could tell that he was overwhelmed by the entire experience. The stoic man I’ve known these past 12 years was so overcome that he was moved to tears by the reception.
Briefly, after a short visit with all of us, Gary moved on to traverse the rest of the tunnel of adoring folks that stretched throughout the rest of the airport. And we reconnected with him later as everyone was dispersing.
The rest of the family and Gary went for dinner that night, but unfortunately I was committed elsewhere. So the next time he and I had the chance to visit was a couple weeks later during the fellowship hour after service at my church.
“You know,” he told me, over coffee: “Fifty-two years ago, when I came off the plane in Minneapolis, people spit on me, and gave me the finger,” trailing off with emotion. “They even called me a baby killer. I can’t believe the difference.”
I’m certain, that as a country, we’re not yet forgiven for how we treated all of the veterans returning from Vietnam. One rousing homecoming reception seems like cheap grace for all the hurtful, degrading and demeaning ways we treated the veterans of the Vietnam War.
But I will say that I’m proud of our community for what they are doing for our veterans. I’m certain that we can’t erase the decades of scars caused by a callus country when the Vietnam veterans like my father-in-law came home with a few homecoming parties.
And I also will add that the joy this recent celebration brought Gary was worth whatever the donors paid to make it happen.
I pray that we keep this momentum going, all across the country, until every veteran has received the same heartwarming and patriotic welcome home that Gary received a few weeks ago. Amen.
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