A farewell

Nearly ten years ago, I walked beneath towering evergreens on a crisp summer night in Summit County, Colorado, home of Keystone, Breckenridge, and Arapahoe Basin ski areas. As I looked at the stars and breathed deep the thin mountain air, I found it difficult to believe that I was leaving this life of adrenaline and adventure for one so drastically different as the Air Force would undoubtedly be. But it promised me a chance to become a fighter pilot and so I traded the life of a ski bum for an office with a View.

As offered, the Air Force trained me then sent me to far away places like Korea and Japan, Singapore and Guam, Saudi Arabia and Las Vegas, Alaska and Iraq. I flew T-37 “Tweets”, T-38 “Talons”, F-16 “Vipers” and F-117 “Nighthawks” (or “Stealth fighters” or “Stinkbugs” or “Cheese wedges” or “Flying Doritos”). I dropped big bombs from jets over southwestern US desert ranges, Alaskan tundra and hostile cities. I smelled a High-speed Anti-radiation Missile as it motored off the rail my F-16 carried it on. I flew in sheer awe of many a sunset, or sunrise, over many a country. And as Charles Dickens said, it was the best of times, and the worst of times. Now, however, a time has come to move on.

In January, Sandi and I will drive out of New Mexico to South Carolina, where he will finish his last few years as an Air Force officer, and where I will have the opportunity to adapt to civilian life after being a fighter pilot. While I couldn’t ask for a more wonderful husband who completely supports me, I fully expect this to be one of the greatest challenges of my life. And I’d appreciate your prayers immensely!

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