Nine Lives – Part 1
What’s Next
During my life I have been a very lucky and blessed man. I have done so many different things and met so many incredible people along life’s road while Traveling Life’s Highways. I’ve tried to add some photos but the years that have passed since I last blogged have forgotten how to add them.
Open Heart surgery gives one a reality check (once again) that life cannot be taken for granted. This is all a given time by the Hand that controls our destiny and is not of our own choosing. God gives us many wondrous events in our lifetime, some great, some not so great (to have us learn and be humbled). It is through the CHOICES we make that this impacts our lives and those around us.
I’ll share with you the partial stories of my nine lives and how the choices I made changed my attitudes, my attempt to give other people a chance, and how blessed I am to have so many long-time friends who have been part of my journey. Some of these stories I have never shared with anyone else.
To set this story up I need to tell you my daddy died early, at the age of 41, when I was sixteen years old. We hunted and fished together, and he gave me a great understanding of work ethic and doing the best you can. He was a successful man who worked harder than he should and always kept saying, “Next year we will go on that vacation” or next time we will go do this or that. Next year never came for him. I was at an age where I could talk intelligently about things with him, but he was no longer there to mentor me or give advice on “what’s next.” I stumbled my way through my teenage years and early twenties always with an attitude to try things and never to wait on “next year”. I’ve carried that with me my whole life.
While I was in high school my best friend Johnny Kytle and I had many great adventures. We rode motorcycles and learned to scuba dive at the Buckhead YMCA from a former Navy Seal, Jack Favor. He had a large vision of life and instilled in us the desire to go out and search for adventure to try things that might be uncomfortable to make us grow as young men. We took that to heart and one summer took a trip to Florida to go cave diving in northern Florida and make our way to Crystal River to swim with the Manatees. We continued our trip through the Keys, diving and working briefly in Key Largo at Carl Gage’s Dive Center before making our way to Key West where we met modern day pirates, smugglers and a lifestyle before it was made famous through the songs of Jimmy Buffett. On that first Florida trip, Johnny met my first cousin Debbie who he eventually married and lived out his life. Before I went into the service, three of us (Johnny, David, and I) took a quick motorcycle trip to Panama City and decided it was just a few miles down the road to Pensacola to visit my aunt Betty and cousins (including Debbie). We were curious and then started a cross-country odyssey to Mobile, New Orleans and continued to the west coast. Drove up along the Pacific Coast Highway through the Redwoods up to Oregon to Crater Lake before making the long drive back to New Orleans. The motorcycles had problems, so we chained them to a power pole, and took the bus back to Atlanta. We had Johnny’s dad get a motorcycle trailer and take us back down to retrieve our motorcycles.
Life Number One – Morrison Springs Cave Diving
I have never told this story before to anyone but now that Johnny is gone it can see the light of day. During our first scuba diving trip to Florida, we visited Morrison Springs, a beautiful cave system with such clear water it looked like you were flying as you made your way to the cave entrance. We were young and foolish without the proper tools (guide ropes) to find our way but were excited to visit this cave system Jack had talked about during our training. On the morning of our first dive, we decided to explore the area and venture into the first cave, a large cavern where you could see light back up to the surface. The dive was great to a depth of about 60 feet or so. We saw the entrance to the second cave and decided the next morning that we would explore that cave. As we sat around our campfire that night we talked about the beauty of Morrison Springs, the adventure we were on and how we were able to get all our gear into my 65 Mustang 2+2 fastback. It was loaded to the brim with camping gear, scuba gear, coolers with food and Cokes, and a few clothes that we could wash along the way.
The second day started much like the first, breakfast around the campfire, talking with a few other people before we got our gear and headed into the water. We stayed outside of the cave entrance for a time exploring the beauty of the area before venturing into the cave mouth. Our plan before diving was to go into the first cave and make our way quickly into the second cave without wasting air looking around. Explore the second cave a bit and if we found the entrance to the third cave quickly go in and explore that one before returning to the surface.
The first cave went well as we made our way into the second cave and almost immediately saw the entrance to the third cave. We pressed on and inside the third cave was another expansive cavern. Johnny’s light went out so we started to make our way out but, without the guidelines, weren’t sure which way was out since we could not see any light toward the surface. We were low on air as we looked for the exit and stirring up silt made it that much harder to find our way out.
We remembered what Jack had told us, if you get into trouble while in a cave, become very still and the current will show you the way out. After a couple of minutes gasping for air we both got very still, trying to be neutral buoyant and in what seemed like forever we started drifting in a direction we were not originally heading in. We stayed still for about a minute and drifted to where we could see the cave exit. Johnny went first and made his way to the exit of the second cave where we could see light to the surface with me following right behind. Our tanks read zero air, and we had to free ascent the last 70 feet up to the surface. I do not think I have ever inhaled as big a breath as I did when we broke the surface. Exhausted, we made our way to our campsite where we spent most of the day feeling foolish not to be prepared, lucky we survived since Morrison Springs has had many deaths over the years, including my next-door neighbor Mike and his girlfriend in the 80’s. We swore not to tell anyone of our foolishness and the next day, undaunted by our near disaster, headed to Chystal River to swim with the Manatees.
Life Number Two – Shot in Helicopter on a Mission
During my late teens, my time in the service was spent in Helicopter Flight School in Mineral Wells Texas (Fort Wolters) and in Alabama at Fort Rucker. The phrase “We were young once and soldiers” was very real for many of us who grew up during the Vietnam War Era. Youth brings about a fearlessness that when combined with naivete about what the world is and your life experiences at that point is overpowering for a young man full of vigor with brass balls of invincibility. During training I flew Huey’s, and my specialty was flying a Huey Cobra AH-1. A Snake driver as it was commonly called. The Cobra is an armed platform with mini guns, rockets, and other weapons of destruction. Typically, we would fly cover over the ground troops lying fire ahead of them blowing up the enemy making it safer for those below. We were also involved in what was called a hunter/killer team where a small Hughes OH-6 (like in Magnum PI) was paired with a Cobra to seek out the enemy, drawing fire and the Cobra would swoop in and blow things up. It was very exhilarating when things went well and many of us felt invincible while flying our aircraft. The cobra has a very narrow profile (just over 3 foot wide with a total of 10 foot with the armament wings). The pilot/gunner configuration was a tandem with the gunner in front and the aircraft commander in the rear seat.
While in country, on one of my missions, I found myself and my gunner covering ground troops who had come under heavy fire in an area that should not have been occupied by the enemy. Typical bad intel which happened more than I care to count. As they took on fire and were surprised by the enemy it was our mission to fly down firing both rockets and machine guns (mini-guns) to suppress the enemy’s ability to harm our ground troops. On our second pass, I felt a pain and burning feeling in my crotch and leg area. Had I been hit or my gunner hit below me? We quickly talked and he was ok, but I was sure I was hit but not sure where at that point. We climbed out, did a pedal turn and dove back down to deliver more ordinance on the enemy. On our fourth pass the enemy had been overcome, our fuel level was getting low, so we headed back to our firebase.
After returning to the flight line, I realized the extent of my injuries. A round had come up through my armor-plated seat delivering what I jokingly have called getting my “ass shot up”. The damage was done, the round entered, my butt and exited the top of my thigh. It could have been worse, but I completed my mission and after a brief time healing was given my full flight status back where I continued my missions. A heck of a way to earn a Purple Heart, lol. Lesson learned that day, finish your mission, adapt and overcome your pain and issues.
Life Number Three – Crashes
I was involved in several air assaults during what was called Operation Lam Son 719 in southern Laos supporting the South Vietnamese Army (ARVN). The operation was from the 8th of February until March 25, 1971. Everyone flew multiple missions a day and during that time we lost 26 Cobras aircraft and had some damage to 158 other aircraft. It was the largest aerial assault during the Vietnam War. These totals do not include any Huey’s or other aircraft lost during these battles.
March 3, 1971, was the day “When Innocence Died” for me. It was during these battles that I realized what a mess our country had gotten into. The largest air assault of the war started on March 7, but it had been building up before that. The battle started at 01:00 am while I started flying missions just after daybreak on that Wednesday, much like other days. My first aircraft was a Huey gunship in support of an airlift of ARVN soldiers into an area landing zone called LZ FSB30. It was shot out from under me and safely crashed just outside of the fire base. Rescued by another air crew and returned to base for another bird. The time was about 07:30 in the morning.
The second aircraft was an AH-1G Cobra and after a third pass delivering our ordinance it was shot down with warning lights going off for the hydraulics. Another safe landing, eventually that helicopter was lifted out and flown back to base several days later.
Our third aircraft (A/C) of the day was another Cobra where we supported the medivac of wounded troops from the area. During this time, we did a ‘hot” refuel at basecamp where you leave the helicopter running while refueling. On this next insertion we again were supporting some resupply and medivac choppers when again we received fire from a tree line just outside of the camp. On our second pass the aircraft was hit several times sounding like a whiffle ball whistling as we flew back to base deciding not to land or set it down even though warning lights were coming on for several different systems. The time was just after 9 am and it was decided that we had torn up three aircraft before lunch and our crew was done for the day. We spent most of that afternoon and evening drinking Jack Daniels and wondering how we survived another day. Our innocence lost, our faith in our leaders destroyed as they lied to the American public of what was really happening to our boys who were fighting and dying for a lost cause.
Life Number Four – Stabbed
After the Army I was hired by the Atlanta Police Department to fly their helicopters on patrol. I did not really want to be a cop, but you had to go through the police academy to be fully certified. After graduation, I thought I would immediately go to the helicopter squad, but the department had received large amounts of money from the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration (LEAA) to have more females on both the motorcycle and helicopter squads. It was a disaster of a program with a newly certified female paired up with a veteran motorcycle officer. One of the main problems unforeseen at the time was many of the females could not hold up their cycle coming up to stop and they dropped them on the ground requiring a male officer to pick them back up so the female could ride again. This program did not work well as the public all over town were witnessing all of these dropped motorcycles who could not write the traffic tickets due to the embarrassment of the motor squad.
The helicopter squad had even worse problems taking several females whom I was in the academy with giving them a chance to learn to fly a helicopter. A combat veteran pilot would have to wait 6 months working as a regular beat cop while the Police administration figured out that those programs didn’t work. Thankfully the money ran out quickly and everyone could get back to policing to protect and serve the people of Atlanta.
We had different areas of town we flew overlooking for suspicious activity. My shift was from 6:00 pm to 02:00 am in the morning. We would have a few hours of daylight each shift and most of it was night flying. We backed up patrol beat cars and flew over industrial areas looking for burglars or other suspicious activities. Much of my time on the squad was flying over Zone 2 which included the affluent Buckhead and West Paces Ferry road area. It was a mixture of high-end houses and mansions including the Governors residence along with businesses and warehouse areas in Buckhead. More and more high-rise buildings were being constructed so security for property and equipment was a priority every shift.
When the weather was bad and flying conditions were poor, we stayed on the ground and backed up the beat officer on patrol in the area we flew over. One night after midnight an officer had stopped a vehicle on Peachtree road just before the Dekalb county line. We were close so backed the officer who was making a traffic stop. It turned out to be for DUI and was an older white male going home after dinner and drinks with friends. He was the CEO of a well-known insurance company who I could only assume had his life flash before him when he decided to do something stupid.
The officer had gotten his driver’s license and was writing him up as I stood outside the drivers’ door talking with him when suddenly he bolted from his car while lunging at me with a large Bowie knife. He hit me in the chest with a crunching sound as the knife tore into my bullet proof vest. Luckily it only did a little damage to me but was scary just the same. He went to jail, made the news, and was disgraced in his career.
I’ll end this with a funny story that happened about two months before the above incident which was probably the best (funniest) thing to happen to me while in the police department. It was almost the same spot, maybe half a block from above when on another night of bad weather and could not fly brought about another car stopped in the middle of the road on Peachtree Street. The driver was asleep, drunk as a coot when I tapped on his window. He rolled his window down as I asked if he had anything to drink that night. In the best Foster Brooks voice, he told me he had. He lived only a few blocks away from his home when he decided to stop the car as he was too drunk to finish the drive home. I told him that was a great idea, but he should have pulled the car over to the side of the road and not stopped in the middle of the road.
I asked him if he was sleeping it off when he responded, “When I was in school, the teacher said the world revolved around once every twenty-four hours. I’m just waiting on my house to come by.” It was one of the funniest things I had ever heard, and I could not take him to jail. He was about three blocks from his home, so my partner and I drove him home, took his car and gave the keys to his wife. Almost the same story with two totally different actions and outcomes. Another story in the winding road while Traveling Life’s Highways.
Part 2 will follow shortly.