Lonely Pilot Bob

“Until Mary Edwards Wertsch’s remarkable book Military Brats, no one in this country ever had the decency or took the time to thank us for our service to our country.  This book is both a love letter and a troubled meditation on the way the children are raised in military families.  It is the first book that I know of that records the testimony of those of us who were raised in these families and analyzes our common experience.  I wept while reading much of this book, I found myself roaring with laughter in other sections.“

And here is the seed for my idea – to have the Congress of the United States recognize the Military Brats of America for their service and commitment to our nation.

I contacted Bob Latta, R/OH (D-5) in Dec. 2009 and floated the idea to him, through an email.  Five hours later I heard from one of his “horse holders,” a member of his staff.  He wanted to know more about the idea so I provided additional information for him.

In March 2010 Bob introduced legislation, H.R. 5333, H.R. 5333 (111^th): Children of Military Service Members Commemorative Lapel Pin Act, to the Congress.  It subsequently “died;” not because the bill doesn’t have merit, but because Washington bureaucrats just sat on their asses with the bill.  It got sent “to committee,” and there it was forgotten until the “11th hour,” then it died.

I went back at Bob, and he reintroduced the bill, this time as HR 1014, H.R. 1014 (112^th): Children of Military Service Members Commemorative Lapel Pin Act on 11 Mar. 2010.  This time the bill sat “in committee” for two years, while Washington bureaucrats sat on their asses.  It is not like our Congress is too busy!

So I have once again, gone “back at Bob” to ask him to introduce the bill yet again.  The idea has merit, as you will see in subsequent postings on this thread here.  If our governments, local, state and federal, can find the time and energy to authorize the distribution of condoms to “inner-city” children – children who contribute absolutely nothing to our nation, then certainly our Congress can authorize a Commemorative Lapel Pin for our kids!  Especially since they structured the bill to where we would have to pay for the damn pin ourselves!  How cool is that?

If you happen to stumble across my thread here, please take the time to write, call or email your representative or senator and solicit support for this idea…. thank you.

There is a book, “Military Brats: Legacies of Childhood Inside the Fortress,” by Mary Edwards Wertsch.  It was written in 1991, and I bought it in the mid-1990s.  I was an Air Force ‘Brat.’

It probably took me the better part of 5 years to just get through the Introduction, by Pat Conroy.  While my experience was not exactly like his, it was so similar that I could feel the ‘pain’ as I read.  At times it was unbearable.  Finally, in 2009 I was able to read it in it’s entirety, and I got mad!  I began wondering why our great Nation has never taken the time to recognize the Military Brats of America for our service to this country – they’ve recognized damn-near everyone else for a great deal less!  So, I began an initiative to have Congress authorize a lapel pin for Military Brats – an initiative that has been “stonewalled” now for 3 years.  But this is another subject I’ll address later.  I want now to come back to Conroy’s Introduction, and relate my experience with it.

My mentor would kick my ass if I published the whole thing all at once, so I am breaking it down into paragraphs.  This “thread” will now take the length it will take.  And so now, unable to find any further “ados” around the house…

“I was born and raised on federal property.  America itself paid all the costs for my birth and my mother’s long stay at the hospital.  I was a military brat – one of America’s children in the profoundest sense – and I was guaranteed free medical care and subsidized food and housing until the day I finished college and had to turn in my ID card that granted me these rights and privileges.  The sound of gunfire on rifle ranges strikes an authentic chord of home in me even now.  My father was a fighter pilot in the United States Marine Corps and fought for his country in three wars.  I grew up invisibly in the aviator’s house.  We became quiet as bivalves at his approach and our lives were desperate and sad.  But when the United States needed a fighter pilot, we did our best to provide one.  Our contribution to the country was small, but so were we most of the time, and we gave all that we could.”

I wasn’t introduced to the military until Dear Ole Dad was recalled in 1950.  We moved from Whitehouse, OH to Selfridge Field, MI – just “up the road.”

For the most part, I grew up with the sound of bomber engines in the background.  They became the lullabies of my youth.  B-47s, B-36s and B-52s.  I never feared when one of those ‘big mothers’ roared overhead, even as a kid – I felt safe.

My dad was a Commissary Officer; kind of like a food store manager.  Of note, his father ran a dry goods/grocery store here in Whitehouse for years.  He never went off to other countries to fight – he brought his fighting into our house…