Bad A$$ Grandpa
A fellow stopped into the town office to register his car today. He looked like a typical grandpa: flannel shirt, work pants, bald on top, shuffling kinda slow. We chatted as I worked his registration. I issued him a new license plate (since Maine is changing to the pine tree plates), and he asked about the “lifetime” plates. I told him I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but in asking him some questions he was talking about the Maine veteran plate (which isn’t changing like the standard license plates). He explained he thought about getting the vet. plate, and he could get one with the distinguished flying cross insignia.
“Distinguished flying cross? How did you serve?” I asked. “In the army. I flew helicopters.” He explained he did two tours in Viet Nam. “The first time I went it was fairly peaceful. The second time it wasn’t.” I asked if he flew the Huey. “The first time I did. The second time I flew the AH-1 gunship. I figured if they were going to shoot at me, I wanted something to shoot back.” He went on to explain when he came back he was in the National Guard, flying helicopter rescue missions to Knife Edge on Katahdin, medivac runs, and training new pilots how to do such flights.
I thanked him for his service, and he said “It was job just like everyone else has.” I said to him “Um, no sir; no it isn’t. Flying combat helicopters in wartime is not just a regular job.” I never would’ve thought when he came through the door I was looking at a total stud hero butt kicker. I am glad to have met him.