Back in the early 1990’s I heard about a museum that had the type of aircraft my Dad flew in during WW2. Since it was before the internet, I had verbal directions from a friend but nothing else. We drove 3 hours across the state in the summer heat in my old car with no air conditioning. The water pump gave out but I nursed it along by adding water every few miles. Dad was in his early 70’s so it was a long drive for him. When we got there, the lady at the desk told us they couldn’t let us in because someone had rented the museum for a private party that was to take place a few hours later. I assured her we would pay full admission, look only at the one airplane, and leave promptly after. We would be in there no more than 15 minutes, and the party was still hours away. She wouldn’t let us in. I don’t have much of a temper, but I was so furious that I was shaking. Dad saw I was having a hard time and said “it’s ok, let’s go.” On the side of the building in a heap of scrap parts, Dad recognized a damaged piece of the nose that he was sure came from the type of aircraft he flew on. He put his hand on that piece of scrap and said “thanks old buddy” then he cried for a minute and we left.
I still think about that museum and that thoughtless lady and it makes me so angry I honestly cry, but I’ve decided to follow Dad’s example and not bash the place or the people who work there. Dad was a classy guy from a very different generation. I just hope other Veterans got the chance to thank their “old buddy”
wutwut970 on May 4th, 2021 at 23:36 UTC »
This is powerful. Dayum.
ThouKingdomCum on May 4th, 2021 at 23:49 UTC »
The rush of emotions going through that man. Wow. Powerful picture.
Fluke79 on May 5th, 2021 at 02:27 UTC »
Back in the early 1990’s I heard about a museum that had the type of aircraft my Dad flew in during WW2. Since it was before the internet, I had verbal directions from a friend but nothing else. We drove 3 hours across the state in the summer heat in my old car with no air conditioning. The water pump gave out but I nursed it along by adding water every few miles. Dad was in his early 70’s so it was a long drive for him. When we got there, the lady at the desk told us they couldn’t let us in because someone had rented the museum for a private party that was to take place a few hours later. I assured her we would pay full admission, look only at the one airplane, and leave promptly after. We would be in there no more than 15 minutes, and the party was still hours away. She wouldn’t let us in. I don’t have much of a temper, but I was so furious that I was shaking. Dad saw I was having a hard time and said “it’s ok, let’s go.” On the side of the building in a heap of scrap parts, Dad recognized a damaged piece of the nose that he was sure came from the type of aircraft he flew on. He put his hand on that piece of scrap and said “thanks old buddy” then he cried for a minute and we left.
I still think about that museum and that thoughtless lady and it makes me so angry I honestly cry, but I’ve decided to follow Dad’s example and not bash the place or the people who work there. Dad was a classy guy from a very different generation. I just hope other Veterans got the chance to thank their “old buddy”