Author: Easin' Along

I wore a T-shirt with “Army” stenciled across the front to a S.A.I.L. exercise class sometime last year. Jim Cundall, a classmate, walked over and introduced himself. Jim asked me about my Army service. After chatting for a few minutes, he told me he was an Honor Air Knoxville coordinator. This organization hosts a group of military veterans on flights to Washington, D.C., twice a year for a day of sightseeing and visits to the Military Memorials. I told Jim I was familiar with the organization and would love to go on one of the flights.

“Can you go on short notice?” he asked. “Possibly,” I replied because of our RV travel throughout the year. Jim explained that the flights are always filled long in advance, but there are always cancellations before the actual trip date, and he tries to fill them whenever he can. I asked him to put me on the waiting list.

For the record, I spent 24 wonderful years in the Army, both active and reserve. In 1968, I entered the service as an enlisted soldier and later earned a commission through Army ROTC. When I finished ROTC and graduated, Helen and I were married. I assumed I would be sent to Vietnam, but we were sent to Germany instead and spent an incredible three years there, plus another year serving at Fort Jackson, SC. After active duty, I missed Army life and, with a new baby, needed cash, so I joined the Army Reserve and served for another 20 years. I retired as a Lieutenant Colonel (a distinction I’m very proud of).

Soon after my conversation with Jim, he called and said he had a spot on the next Honor Air flight if I could make it. Unfortunately, Helen and I would be out of town on that date, but Jim said he would put me on the list for the flight scheduled for April 10 of this year. I thanked him and put it on my calendar, not to be touched.

(Click on any image below to enlarge)

In March, the sponsors of Honor Air hosted 133 participants for breakfast on the upcoming flight. The purpose of the breakfast was to cover the itinerary for the day in D.C. and assign each of us to a team for the trip. There would be four teams on the flight, and each team would consist of groups of four or more veterans. An escort was assigned to each group of four. I was on Team Red. The other three veterans in my group were members of my exercise class, and therefore, the Honor Air flight would allow me to get to know them better. I also knew Stephanie, our escort, because she is a member of our church and the daughter of one of the veterans in our group. I looked forward to the flight eagerly.

April 10 arrived, and I was up at 4:30 am and in the airport waiting area by 6:00 am. A smiling Eagle Scout welcomed me, introduced himself proudly, and escorted me into the terminal. The waiting area was alive, with veterans and their families exchanging greetings and posing for pictures. Local television and newspaper reporters scampered about gathering interviews with some older veterans for broadcast and publication later in the day. Two veterans had served in World War II, fifty (plus) in Korea; the remainder were from the Vietnam era or had served there. After everyone was accounted for and finished the breakfast the sponsors provided, we were hustled to the departure gate for boarding.

Eddie Maniss, Honor Air’s longtime sponsor and strong supporter, made some remarks. Knox County Mayor Glen Jacobs addressed the group and thanked them for their service. Mayor Jacobs joined us on our flight. We boarded quickly—the security check was not an issue.

Flights from Knoxville to Washington take one hour and one minute exactly, and we arrived on time. Once we arrived at the gate at Reagan National and began walking off the plane, a gentleman sitting among the passengers awaiting later flights recognized us as a group of military veterans and started clapping. Everyone in the terminal rose and clapped with him within seconds. It was a moving experience.

I boarded the Team Red bus and sat with Vern, my seatmate on the airplane. Our first stop was the Air Force Memorial, where we began a routine that was followed throughout the day. Air Force veterans stood in front of the Memorial Towers and the statues for pictures and to read the words inscribed there. Similar activity was repeated at the Marine Memorial and the World War II Memorial.

At the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, our veterans scattered about, joining other visitors searching for names of military personnel killed during the conflict. With the help of one of our escorts, I located the names of three servicemen who attended Bearden High School, my alma mater. I played basketball with Mike Dawson—a good guy. He was killed in action shortly before his scheduled departure from Vietnam. Bill Bishop was a neighbor and an outstanding athlete, playing baseball and basketball. Chip Pilkington, tall and handsome, was a few years older. He married a lovely girl in my class at Bearden. Seeing all three names was an emotional experience.

The Korean War Memorial featured statues of soldiers covered in ponchos and walking in a spread formation. One inscription quoted a War Veteran station as saying that the U.S. military had covered the entire country of Korea by foot. I went to the Memorial to read the names inscribed there and found the name I wanted. General Walton Walker commanded Korean War forces and was killed in action. His son, General Sam S. Walker, served as the Commander of the Third Infantry Division and, later, the U.S. Commander of Berlin. General Walker asked me to be his aide-de-camp in the Third Division and took Helen and me with him when he was appointed to the post in Berlin.

We attended the impressive Changing of the Guard ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Our veterans in wheelchairs were given a front-row seat and sat in rapt attention. The guards’ precision bore witness to many hours of practice and dedication.

All too soon, it was time to return to the airport for the flight back to Knoxville. My description of the day’s events doesn’t do justice to our time there. We were allowed to linger long at the Memorials and completely absorb their purpose, meaning, and historical significance. I tried to listen carefully to the conversations of veterans who had served in various conflicts better to understand their thoughts about the experience and their roles while serving in them. I learned a lot.

It was an exceptional day, but nothing prepared me for what awaited us at the airport. Walking from the arrival gate into the terminal area, HUNDREDS of friends and family members stood clapping and shouting thanks and greetings to every veteran coming into the terminal. The University of Tennessee Band played “Rocky Top” and lively arrangements of patriotic music off to one side. Flags, banners, and balloons were everywhere. I’ve stated repeatedly that the day was a moving experience, but nothing moved me like this.

I finally spotted Helen in the crowd, accompanied by a group of dear friends from our neighborhood. Dottie and Betsy were waving flags and smiling broadly. Jean and Pat offered a vigorous welcome to all. It was special. Little boys shook my hand, and girls in Girl Scout uniforms handed me Scout cookies as I walked by. Moms gave me balloons to take home…they are still there. As I walked from the airport, the band was still playing, and the hugs had not ceased. It was quite a day, indeed.

I came away from this trip with two thoughts. First, Honor Air is a remarkable organization. The sponsors—Prestige Cleaners, Covenant Health, American Airlines, and many others—deserve sincere appreciation for their support. The countless volunteers who give their time to ensure a smooth, worry-free, and memorable experience can’t be thanked enough. I owe you.

Second, as a veteran, I have been rewarded handsomely for my 24 years of service. In addition to a pension, Helen and I benefit greatly from the health care support we receive for life. Access to the outstanding campgrounds on military installations has enabled us to travel the country affordably. We have made lifetime friends everywhere we traveled and served. On the other hand, the servicemen and women who were called into service or volunteered and did everything asked of them to the best of their ability often came home without the thanks or recognition they deserved. This trip is a marvelous way of saying thanks.  It was an honor to fly with every veteran on this day. Honor Air, I’m honored you asked.

This post was much longer than my usual 750 words, but I had a lot I wanted to share. I also took a lot of pictures. I have included more of them in the gallery below. I hope you enjoy them. Again, please click on any of them to enlarge.

For over 50 years, Knoxville has celebrated the arrival of spring with the annual Dogwood Arts Festival. The event runs for about two weeks and coincides with the blooming of our Dogwoods, Redbuds, Weeping Cherry trees, and spring flowers of every color and form.

The festival, a testament to our vibrant community, features driving trails throughout our city, where our residents and visitors can view elaborate flower gardens at the peak of bloom. Both visual and performing art and artists are featured, showcasing our thriving arts community. In short, there is something for everyone, and our community, filled with pride, is eager to share this celebration of spring with you.

One event that began about five years ago and has since become a sensation is the “Chalk Walk.” This event, filled with spontaneity and creativity, invites artists to participate by creating works of art on the sidewalk of our downtown Market Square. We had an unbelievably beautiful spring day on Saturday (4/6), so Helen and I couldn’t resist the urge to drive downtown and witness this year’s 300 Chalk Walk artists in action, ready to amaze and, in some cases, amuse us.

We arrived around 3:30 that afternoon and joined an enormous crowd on our downtown Market Square. Earlier that morning, every participant was issued an identical tray of sidewalk chalk and directed to their individual “canvas” according to their category or group (individual, pair, school-age, etc.). All the artists were busy at work and eager to complete their work before the judging process, which was scheduled to begin soon.

Helen and I strolled, fascinated by the works in progress. The competitors consisted of artists of every hew and stripe. We met one artist who told us he was twelve years old. Another was fifteen, but this was her fourth competition. Her work was excellent. Several participants worked as pairs, but most of them drew solo.

Standing around every work of art were groups endlessly taking pictures and letting loose with “oohs” and “wows.”  “Amazing” was the word I heard most often. I had my camera with me, came close to filling a memory card, and spent most of Sunday afternoon selecting a representative sample to share with Easin’ Along readers. The task was difficult; you’ll see why if you scroll through them. Please click on any image to enlarge it and enjoy it from a bigger window.

Before I send you on your way, I need to note that hundreds of dogs (and one pig) were in attendance, and I’ve shared a few here. The two Great Pyrenees attracted quite a large group of admirers.

As I write this, it is pouring outside, and I can’t help but think of those incredible drawings trickling into a downtown drain. At least we’ll have a clean slate for next year’s competition.

Note: My friend, Alan Sims, who publishes the daily blog Inside of Knoxville, also attended Chalk Walk and posted pictures of every drawing. You can see them by visiting his blog (click here).

The only problem with spring in East Tennessee is that it’s a short season. We start cold and wet, then warm up in a nanosecond. Nevertheless, while cold is not good, wet produces some stunning scenery in the way of flowering trees, shrubs, and plants.

We had several big rain events this week, and other than spending an hour or so at my exercise class celebrating an early St. Patrick’s Day on Friday, I remained shut in and felt claustrophobic. This morning, things are better. The rain moved out, and I’m ready for a walk. With the camera in one hand and Mortimer’s leash in the other, we’re strolling through the neighborhood in search of signs of spring. Join us.

We’re just a few yards from the end of our driveway and standing on the edge of Chris and Dianne’s yard. Chris and Dianne are somewhere warm for a few days—I doubt they’re missing the blooming Hyacinths in their backyard, but I’ll take a picture of it and send it to them anyway. Mortimer takes a quick sniff and walks away. I love the deep blue.

About a hundred yards down the street, we admire Rita’s blooming forsythia. It has fully bloomed out and stands picture-worthy. We think it is near its peak. Our clue is the few green leaves that are beginning to show.  

At the end of our street, we turn left and start up the hill, walking around the clubhouse and swimming pool. It won’t be long before the pool is open and summer begins. I suppress the thought—let’s enjoy spring weather while we can. We spot Julie’s gorgeous daffodils and walk over for a closer look. After capturing the flowers, I spot some spring splendor behind her front gate. Mortimer and I dub it her secret garden. Julie is away, but I’ll send her the pictures.

By now, we are at the top of our hill and catch a glimpse of Ann’s budding Redbud. Redbuds throughout East Tennessee are in various stages of bloom; Ann’s has decided to spring forth slowly, somewhat akin to a Tennessee Waltz. Her Lenten Roses, however, are putting on quite a show.  I sneak closer to her house to get a better look.

Mortimer and I turn left at Ann’s and walk toward the entrance to our neighborhood. As we turn left again and begin the walk home, I notice the Bradford Pears that line the road up the hill. The recent rains have clipped some blossoms, but the trees still stand proudly, strutting their stuff. I’m thinking, “Ahh, spring…”

Back down the hill and nearing home, I glance upward at a sign of things to come. Ken and Gail have a Weeping Cherry in their yard that glows in full bloom. A few blossoms are out now to tease us, but if we’re patient, our reward will come soon in a dazzling display of bright pink. I’ll share it on Easin’ Along Facebook when that day arrives.

We’re home. Mortimer is now panting and ready to sprawl on the floor and take a morning nap. I’m feeling great and ready to take on the day. I’ve escaped the rain-induced confinement and have taken in the promise of another East Tennessee spring. We hope you enjoyed the stroll–Mortimer and I are so glad you could join us.

We’re Easin’ Along.