---
As a parent, its pure joy when you see your child make a new discovery and their face reveals the wonder... the glee with the gears turning.. so this is what..., who..., why.
I spent a couple decades in a dark arena. There were no discoveries, only waking to find the same problems and the hole deeper to climb out of. How low can you go was the name of the game.
Today, I'm discovering many new things. On my mind is music. I'm listening to Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" CD. Anita got me a 3 disc set for Christmas and I'd listened to this music before, but it has suddenly come alive. It's "THICK!" It has layers, it's powerful, it's genius... it moves me.
Epiphany
Enlightenment
Paradigm Shift
Coming of Age / Self Actualization
Seeing the Light
Anointed
Revelation
I remember when the scriptures came alive. I'd read them before, but suddenly they leapt off the page. The spirit in them connected with my spirit and they came alive! I was transformed. It made perfect sense. Beyond worldly. Truth was being revealed to me like never before.
Same with things I am experiencing lately. Late in life for sure, but in time none the less. Perfect time, possibly.
Concepts like Karma, Heaven and Paradise are designed to enable us to develop a moral compass. Knowledge of an Eternal Life, immortality, with judgement, reward or punishment lying in wait can be an effective motivator. Sure we can assume that man created these concepts to control the masses, but it is readily apparent to the most casual observer that we need governing.
Regardless of belief system, we have these enlightenment experiences along the pathway in the journey of life and they are wonderful!
But it doesn't explain the spiritualness of these ideals that propel them beyond just philosophy. How within, we feel, we experience something either awakened inside of us or invading the void we had. Described by some as a God shaped void. These revelations bring peace that surpasses all understanding. Understanding of the flesh that is.
We attempt to find happiness in the things of the world and though temporary elation is achieved it is never satisfied and often leads to far worse than initially imagined, when pursued. A chasing after the wind, if you will.
It is absolutely exciting to be finding out things... even late in life.
It's nice to be living and learning and experiencing life!
---
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Monday, December 20, 2010
Be the best you - Wheel in the Sky
---
Being me -
I am a shallow person. I have more joy and show more emotion than anyone I've ever known. I am absolutely passionate about some things.
Ignorance is bliss and when we know better, we do better.
The best thing I can give the world is to be the best me I can be, and only I can do that.
That is my purpose, my reason for existence and each of us is unique with a special gift that only we possess.
---
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning -
I've listened to and admired and sang along with many songs over the course of my fifty one years. I like music, it moves me. But I'm shallow and I married a deep person, who listens to lyrics and understands what songs are telling. I just like the beat and usually the chorus. Hey, it works for me and I can be fun to be around. :o)
I'm not sure what that Journey song means, but since I'm involved in ministry and I'm always looking at what the world is doing.. in this case more specifically, religion, ala Christianity, I see the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
There have been formations, reformations and revelations. Men have been breaking away from the "system," since there was a system. Jesus was a radical whose only defiance was towards the "system." Paul turned away with passion from that which he previously adhered to so earnestly. Martin Luther posted his objections on the door of the church.
Today we're seeing what people in the arena are calling a move of the Holy Spirit of God in the form of an exodus from traditional denominational church to simple, organic, house church type gatherings.
Regardless of what is happening and who is behind it. I will venture to say this, because I believe it to be true.
Where man is involved, there will come another movement (credited to God) and the previous movement leaders will be the biggest opponents of the new movement and the new wine will be poured into new wine skins, because the old wine skins can not hold the new wine without being damaged.
Ahhh, so that's why Jesus told the most learned Nicodemus, "You must be born again."
A paradigm shift in your thinking... Paul says, "Be transformed by the renewing of your mind!"
And what you believe will always precede your behavior.
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning. Man thinks they got it right and their way is the right way. All the rest is foolishness. And of course their way is foolishness to the new way.
So all man kind should join hands and sing, "Wheel in the sky keeps on turning, don't know where I'll be tomorrow!"
There is nothing wrong with wanting a more intimate relationship in what ever it is you seek. Just leave the old system alone and all the other systems as well and understand...
that no matter what...
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning!
---
Being me -
I am a shallow person. I have more joy and show more emotion than anyone I've ever known. I am absolutely passionate about some things.
Ignorance is bliss and when we know better, we do better.
The best thing I can give the world is to be the best me I can be, and only I can do that.
That is my purpose, my reason for existence and each of us is unique with a special gift that only we possess.
---
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning -
I've listened to and admired and sang along with many songs over the course of my fifty one years. I like music, it moves me. But I'm shallow and I married a deep person, who listens to lyrics and understands what songs are telling. I just like the beat and usually the chorus. Hey, it works for me and I can be fun to be around. :o)
I'm not sure what that Journey song means, but since I'm involved in ministry and I'm always looking at what the world is doing.. in this case more specifically, religion, ala Christianity, I see the wheel in the sky keeps on turning.
There have been formations, reformations and revelations. Men have been breaking away from the "system," since there was a system. Jesus was a radical whose only defiance was towards the "system." Paul turned away with passion from that which he previously adhered to so earnestly. Martin Luther posted his objections on the door of the church.
Today we're seeing what people in the arena are calling a move of the Holy Spirit of God in the form of an exodus from traditional denominational church to simple, organic, house church type gatherings.
Regardless of what is happening and who is behind it. I will venture to say this, because I believe it to be true.
Where man is involved, there will come another movement (credited to God) and the previous movement leaders will be the biggest opponents of the new movement and the new wine will be poured into new wine skins, because the old wine skins can not hold the new wine without being damaged.
Ahhh, so that's why Jesus told the most learned Nicodemus, "You must be born again."
A paradigm shift in your thinking... Paul says, "Be transformed by the renewing of your mind!"
And what you believe will always precede your behavior.
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning. Man thinks they got it right and their way is the right way. All the rest is foolishness. And of course their way is foolishness to the new way.
So all man kind should join hands and sing, "Wheel in the sky keeps on turning, don't know where I'll be tomorrow!"
There is nothing wrong with wanting a more intimate relationship in what ever it is you seek. Just leave the old system alone and all the other systems as well and understand...
that no matter what...
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning!
---
Thursday, December 9, 2010
When Tom Waters Died...
---
I wasn't there.
It was 1978 and I was about to turn 18 and living in Florida away from the home I was raised in. A brother had called and informed me it was time to come home, Dad was dying, he was near death...
Tom Waters was in his death bed.
I arrived at the airport in Ohio that night, my oldest brother Tom, was there to pick me up. He greeted me with, "Dad's dead."
I wasn't there...
Many things rang back through my mind concerning Dad and over the years, no, decades, I was able to grieve. It wasn't easy.
Lyrics from Mike & the Mechanics song, "In the living years," apply -
---
I'm sitting here watching Oprah. She's always been about recognizing opportunities. Having the aha moment and learning the lesson. Being in the moment. Being authentic and being the best you. Having Full Circle events in our life.
Times changed. Lives drifted...
apart.
The emails came. The condition was worsening. For the oldest of a new generation, the end was near.
I arranged travel for Mama and met her at the same airport in Ohio. We went to the hospital.
Lucid conversation, eye contact, direct questions... understanding.
The past, the distance, faded...
We made it to the hospital again the next day. Life was slipping away...
Hospice was called in.
---
When Tom Waters died...
I was there.
I wasn't there.
It was 1978 and I was about to turn 18 and living in Florida away from the home I was raised in. A brother had called and informed me it was time to come home, Dad was dying, he was near death...
Tom Waters was in his death bed.
I arrived at the airport in Ohio that night, my oldest brother Tom, was there to pick me up. He greeted me with, "Dad's dead."
I wasn't there...
Many things rang back through my mind concerning Dad and over the years, no, decades, I was able to grieve. It wasn't easy.
Lyrics from Mike & the Mechanics song, "In the living years," apply -
Every generation blames the one before
And all of their frustrations
Come beating on your door
I know that I'm a prisoner
To all my father held so dear
I know that I'm a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years
More crumpled bits of paper
Filled with imperfect thought
Stilted conversations
I'm afraid that's all we've got
You say you just don't see it
He says it's perfect sense
You just can't get agreement
In this present tense
We all talk a different language
Talking in defense
CHORUS
Say it loud
Say it clear
You can listen as well as you hear
It's too late when we die
To admit we don't see eye to eye
So we open up a quarrel
Between the present and the past
We only sacrifice the future
It's the bitterness that lasts
So don't yield to the fortunes
You sometimes see as fate
It may have a new perspective
On a different day
And if you don't give up
And don't give in
You may just be O.K.
CHORUS
I wasn't there that morning
When my father passed away
I didn't get to tell him
All the things I had to say
I think I caught his spirit
Later that same year
I'm sure I heard his echo
In my baby's new born tears
I just wish I could have told him
In the living years
---
I'm sitting here watching Oprah. She's always been about recognizing opportunities. Having the aha moment and learning the lesson. Being in the moment. Being authentic and being the best you. Having Full Circle events in our life.
Times changed. Lives drifted...
apart.
The emails came. The condition was worsening. For the oldest of a new generation, the end was near.
I arranged travel for Mama and met her at the same airport in Ohio. We went to the hospital.
Lucid conversation, eye contact, direct questions... understanding.
The past, the distance, faded...
We made it to the hospital again the next day. Life was slipping away...
Hospice was called in.
---
When Tom Waters died...
I was there.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Bad Day Part Two
---
The next day began as usual... "Up in the mornin' with the Risin' Sun!"
Breakfast, then over to the hangar for a day of aviation maintenance. Same old routine, 12 to 16 hour day.
Scheduled flights continued the same training of 2v1, which I put out of my mind. I was just glad I had a day off from flying and could keep my feet on the ground. I did not allow the previous day's events to enter my mind.
I wish they'd done the same for me...
Early evening brought news that there was a mishap. An aviation accident. When you hear this, you know, it's not like someone just had a little fender bender. In aviation, you can't just pull over to the side of the road. No, when we got this kind of news, we knew it was dire.
My gut began wrenching. Many of my fellow marines, ran from room to room and out into the hangar asking what was going on. Maintenance Control was packed as the observer aircraft radioed in, "chopper down!"
My heart sunk. The Bell was tolling, but for whom? Which one went down, who was on it? Our minds reeled.
Here comes Comer. Good old top gun pilot Comer. Piloting his chopper back to base, uh... missing a front wheel assembly!
We scrambled and placed some pallets and a mattress on a small trailer and coaxed Comer to rest the nose/belly of the aircraft on this trailer. He'd been sitting, turning and burning with the nose up for about 10 minutes while we prepared to aid his landing. He set it down and we secured it before he shut down the engines/rotors.
Cpl. Maldonado, the crew chief, came off the chopper and explained, "once tally and fight's on was called out, the maneuvers began." He checked his wing man as they split with the OV10 in pursuit. They split in the same direction with the wing-man going under Comer and Maldonado's CH46 helicopter.
Maldonado said all he could do was press the intercom button on his long cord and keep yelling, "up, Up, UP!"
Then BOOM... the nose of their aircraft was forced upward. In front of them, the other helicopter, with four men on board, was headed for the forest. It's aft rotor had struck the nose wheel of the lead aircraft. It was doomed; the glide slope of a chopper with damaged blades is the same as a sinker on the end of a fishing line... None.
Soon, the observation chopper came back to the base. The crew chief got out with the helicopter rotors still turning. Flight Equipment was sending out some body bags. They were to return to the site. I remember the crew chief's mouth looked odd as I strained to hear him over the wop-wop-wop of the turning rotors. I reached up and slid the sun shield back to look in his eyes, he was in complete shock. Totally traumatized. He said, "There's just a burnt spot. The chopper broke in three parts! They're dead," he screamed, terror in his eyes. "They're all dead!" His whole body trembled. I ripped the helmet off his head and ordered him to remove his flight vest. I would return to the crash site. He needed help.
I suited up, the pilot radioed in to place me on the manifest of this flight and the body bags were brought to me. I boarded and no wasted effort was made to get back out there, taking off from the tarmac, rather than taxiing out to the runway.
Arriving on the scene, it was as the previous crew chief had described. A burn swatch cut from a previously lush forest setting. We lowered in altitude, our rotors kicking dust, disturbing the site and blowing everything ferociously, as I dropped body bags to Marines on the ground. Not sure who they were.
We slide over towards one side and I prepare the hoist. We slide back over and the guys on the ground place the clip on the bag. I begin to hoist up this fallen comrade. We slowly begin to rise. Then... as I'm looking down, the bag splits open on the bottom and the body plummets earthward.
It was surreal. Everything moved in slow motion. The rotors went by, wop.... wop.... wop, with seconds between each one. The body looked like there was a strobe light on as the arms flailed and just as it bounced off the ground,
I fell on to my back screaming, "Noooooooooooooooooo!"
I flash back to a day in boot camp, the words of one of my Drill Instructors ringing in my ears, "The only men that have earned the right to wear the uniform of the United States Marine Corps were those who died while serving in it!"
I remember being told to just toss the other couple of body bags out and as I do, I notice they are dry rotted. They'd been folded into squares and in storage since the Viet Nam era.
I don't remember returning to base.
---
I failed. I didn't inspect the bags before attempting to use them. I allowed a dead Marine's body to be mishandled. The only Marine I ever met that had earned the right to wear the uniform.
I didn't go beyond Maintenance Control the day before and make more of an issue about an out of control pilot who was endangering lives.
I failed and I wore the guilt and developed self defeating behaviors to punish me. I didn't understand anything. Except this: I failed and people died.
---
I remember drinking, again.
I remember nightmares...
and not wanting to go to bed, fighting sleep, out of fear of returning nightmares...
and I'd drink...
until I passed out.
This became my existence for the next ten years. A down hill slide I could not comprehend.
One I could not discuss with anyone. You do not have weaknesses when you're a United States Marine.
They're not permitted. If you needed them you would have been issued some!
I was in the Philippines one day, Okinawa the next and Hawaii the next. Two weeks later I was headed for my next duty station. I didn't get to grieve and share the event with those who were grieving it.
I just tried to drown it. Night after night, after night.
I met a Filipino woman/party animal who introduced me to crack. I went in to say I needed help but the drug amnesty guy was on leave. The XO had said call me anytime, unless you're on dope.
I went back home and got high.
Booted out, on a general discharge under "other than" honorable conditions, I went to a VA hospital. The VA became a revolving door of numerous 3 to 6 month stays in the Psych ward and through programs with ever changing medications and still no one of common ground to discuss this with. I was diagnosed with PTSD and Bipolar yet I was still refused entry into a PTSD program because I was not a combat veteran.
I had served with meritorious promotions and a gung-ho attitude and I was spit out like a cancerous cell. I was denied treatment. We were taught that Marines never leave anyone behind. I was beginning to believe that "Semper Fi" no longer meant what I'd been taught.
I was hurt and troubled and my life screwed deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.
Numerous lost jobs, ruined marriages/relationships, including 16 years of separation from my one and only son.
In and out of jail for stupid stuff.
I quit drinking and drugging when I landed in prison in 1998.
---
---
As a squadron, from 1985 to 1988, HMM 262 crashed four helicopters in peace time training exercises, resulting in the loss of seven lives, hundreds of thousands of dollars in equipment and broken hearts, families and minds forever.
That's all I can take for today... I'll post more another day.
---
If anyone is interested, I wrote a book -
The next day began as usual... "Up in the mornin' with the Risin' Sun!"
At MCAS Futenma, in Okinawa, the Japanese flag flew high over the base.
Breakfast, then over to the hangar for a day of aviation maintenance. Same old routine, 12 to 16 hour day.
Scheduled flights continued the same training of 2v1, which I put out of my mind. I was just glad I had a day off from flying and could keep my feet on the ground. I did not allow the previous day's events to enter my mind.
I wish they'd done the same for me...
Early evening brought news that there was a mishap. An aviation accident. When you hear this, you know, it's not like someone just had a little fender bender. In aviation, you can't just pull over to the side of the road. No, when we got this kind of news, we knew it was dire.
My gut began wrenching. Many of my fellow marines, ran from room to room and out into the hangar asking what was going on. Maintenance Control was packed as the observer aircraft radioed in, "chopper down!"
My heart sunk. The Bell was tolling, but for whom? Which one went down, who was on it? Our minds reeled.
Here comes Comer. Good old top gun pilot Comer. Piloting his chopper back to base, uh... missing a front wheel assembly!
We scrambled and placed some pallets and a mattress on a small trailer and coaxed Comer to rest the nose/belly of the aircraft on this trailer. He'd been sitting, turning and burning with the nose up for about 10 minutes while we prepared to aid his landing. He set it down and we secured it before he shut down the engines/rotors.
Cpl. Maldonado, the crew chief, came off the chopper and explained, "once tally and fight's on was called out, the maneuvers began." He checked his wing man as they split with the OV10 in pursuit. They split in the same direction with the wing-man going under Comer and Maldonado's CH46 helicopter.
Maldonado said all he could do was press the intercom button on his long cord and keep yelling, "up, Up, UP!"
Then BOOM... the nose of their aircraft was forced upward. In front of them, the other helicopter, with four men on board, was headed for the forest. It's aft rotor had struck the nose wheel of the lead aircraft. It was doomed; the glide slope of a chopper with damaged blades is the same as a sinker on the end of a fishing line... None.
Soon, the observation chopper came back to the base. The crew chief got out with the helicopter rotors still turning. Flight Equipment was sending out some body bags. They were to return to the site. I remember the crew chief's mouth looked odd as I strained to hear him over the wop-wop-wop of the turning rotors. I reached up and slid the sun shield back to look in his eyes, he was in complete shock. Totally traumatized. He said, "There's just a burnt spot. The chopper broke in three parts! They're dead," he screamed, terror in his eyes. "They're all dead!" His whole body trembled. I ripped the helmet off his head and ordered him to remove his flight vest. I would return to the crash site. He needed help.
I suited up, the pilot radioed in to place me on the manifest of this flight and the body bags were brought to me. I boarded and no wasted effort was made to get back out there, taking off from the tarmac, rather than taxiing out to the runway.
Arriving on the scene, it was as the previous crew chief had described. A burn swatch cut from a previously lush forest setting. We lowered in altitude, our rotors kicking dust, disturbing the site and blowing everything ferociously, as I dropped body bags to Marines on the ground. Not sure who they were.
We slide over towards one side and I prepare the hoist. We slide back over and the guys on the ground place the clip on the bag. I begin to hoist up this fallen comrade. We slowly begin to rise. Then... as I'm looking down, the bag splits open on the bottom and the body plummets earthward.
It was surreal. Everything moved in slow motion. The rotors went by, wop.... wop.... wop, with seconds between each one. The body looked like there was a strobe light on as the arms flailed and just as it bounced off the ground,
I fell on to my back screaming, "Noooooooooooooooooo!"
I flash back to a day in boot camp, the words of one of my Drill Instructors ringing in my ears, "The only men that have earned the right to wear the uniform of the United States Marine Corps were those who died while serving in it!"
I remember being told to just toss the other couple of body bags out and as I do, I notice they are dry rotted. They'd been folded into squares and in storage since the Viet Nam era.
I don't remember returning to base.
---
I failed. I didn't inspect the bags before attempting to use them. I allowed a dead Marine's body to be mishandled. The only Marine I ever met that had earned the right to wear the uniform.
I didn't go beyond Maintenance Control the day before and make more of an issue about an out of control pilot who was endangering lives.
I failed and I wore the guilt and developed self defeating behaviors to punish me. I didn't understand anything. Except this: I failed and people died.
---
I remember drinking, again.
I remember nightmares...
and not wanting to go to bed, fighting sleep, out of fear of returning nightmares...
and I'd drink...
until I passed out.
This became my existence for the next ten years. A down hill slide I could not comprehend.
One I could not discuss with anyone. You do not have weaknesses when you're a United States Marine.
They're not permitted. If you needed them you would have been issued some!
I was in the Philippines one day, Okinawa the next and Hawaii the next. Two weeks later I was headed for my next duty station. I didn't get to grieve and share the event with those who were grieving it.
I just tried to drown it. Night after night, after night.
I met a Filipino woman/party animal who introduced me to crack. I went in to say I needed help but the drug amnesty guy was on leave. The XO had said call me anytime, unless you're on dope.
I went back home and got high.
Booted out, on a general discharge under "other than" honorable conditions, I went to a VA hospital. The VA became a revolving door of numerous 3 to 6 month stays in the Psych ward and through programs with ever changing medications and still no one of common ground to discuss this with. I was diagnosed with PTSD and Bipolar yet I was still refused entry into a PTSD program because I was not a combat veteran.
I had served with meritorious promotions and a gung-ho attitude and I was spit out like a cancerous cell. I was denied treatment. We were taught that Marines never leave anyone behind. I was beginning to believe that "Semper Fi" no longer meant what I'd been taught.
I was hurt and troubled and my life screwed deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.
Numerous lost jobs, ruined marriages/relationships, including 16 years of separation from my one and only son.
In and out of jail for stupid stuff.
I quit drinking and drugging when I landed in prison in 1998.
---
Tribute
It is not the critic that counts.
The critic who thinks he knows how the strong man stumbled and fell,
Or where the doer of deeds could have done better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.
Whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood.
Who strives valiantly.
Who errs and comes up short again and again.
Who knows the great enthusiasm – the great devotion
And spends in a worthy cause;
And if he fails
At least he fails while daring greatly.
So that he’ll never be with those cold and timid souls.
Who know neither victory nor its pursuit.
Theodore Roosevelt
In Memory Of
Capt. John E. Nesbit 1st Lt. Andrew G. First Cpl. Jeffery | Maj. Richard J. Eisloeffel Capt. Michael F. King Cpl. Sean M. Timmons Cpl. Charles F. Dehn Jr. |
11 May 1988 | 31 October 1988 |
---
As a squadron, from 1985 to 1988, HMM 262 crashed four helicopters in peace time training exercises, resulting in the loss of seven lives, hundreds of thousands of dollars in equipment and broken hearts, families and minds forever.
That's all I can take for today... I'll post more another day.
---
If anyone is interested, I wrote a book -
Available at these links -
* all proceeds are used for missions to Africa to help give clean drinking water to those who thirst.
** If you're a fellow Marine, contact me at dwaters59@gmail.com and I will send you a copy.
---
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Bad Day Part One
---
When one door closes, another door opens. I was considering leaving Facebook... when I got a post on my wall from a good friend Lisa about Lions and Tigers. In my response I had to look for a link to my old Marine Corps squadron, HMM262, the Flying Tigers. And there, I found photos that I spent the next two hours going through. Many memories flooded my mind.
There were videos of stuff like this. And when you've lived like that, it can at times, be difficult to find things as exciting in life outside the Corps. This was every day life. Lives were on the line. Decisions you made, documents you signed, directly affected lives.
And there were some that I served with that did not make good decisions. And they endangered lives along the way.
One particular day, which has had a more profound effect on me than any other, ended with four of my fellow Marines dead, one helicopter completely destroyed, one damaged and numerous lives to go on and never be the same.
It started the day before. I was a hard charging Marine, flying around on CH-46 helicopters and loving every minute of it. We were in Okinawa Japan at MCAS Futenma.
I headed out on a flight as Crew Chief with a hot-dog pilot named Comer. I do not remember the co-pilot that day.
We were involved in 2v1, two versus one combat flight maneuvers where two CH-46 helicopters, flying in formation would engage in aerial combat with a fixed wing OV-10 aircraft. There was also another helicopter involved that would circle the area, high above all the action, as an observer. The choppers would rotate after each encounter so everyone got some training. I emphasize training because that is what we're involved in here and I learned in Non Commissioned Officers School, that when you're leading training, if you injure a fellow Marine, then you have defeated the purpose of training and weakened the best fighting force the world has ever known.
So, we're flying along at low level, trying to blend our camouflage paint scheme in with the terrain below, our wing-man behind and to the right. We're vigilant out the windows, knowing the attack must come from above, since we're at a low level.
"Enemy spotted at 2 o-clock high," I shout. It is relayed over the radio to the wing-man, who acknowledges. We stay in formation and continue until the enemy would spot us and radio to announce it. Our response was "we have a tally," meaning we see everyone involved, us, the wing-man and the enemy, then announce "Fight's on!"
We turn to make the attack come from the rear. As the enemy closed in, we split, now the OV-10 has to make a choice as to which one to follow. We're zig-zagging away. The back of the air craft is twisting and turning. We pop a torque ball on an indicator in the cock pit and I notice we violate the hard deck, by dropping below 200' AGL (200 feet above ground level). Nothing but thick forest below.
The OV-10 chooses one of us and the other would then turn and get guns on the enemy intruder attacking our wing-man, announced with "guns, guns, guns," over the intercom.
Fight's off, and the OV-10 flies out of sight and we repeat the process allowing the wing-man to now lead and/or change places with the observation aircraft.
I'd flown in this and many other types of training, accumulating some 350+ hours at this point. But on this day, it was the first time I'd ever felt afraid. I mean, Marines just don't get afraid. It's not in our DNA.
But the way that Comer was flying was inappropriate and I told him so. I berated him. I'd never spoken that way to a superior officer. It was like treason, but when someone is doing what they should not be and lives are in jeopardy, something must be said.
He told me to chill out. So I laid down and strapped my self in and announced, "I QUIT!" When the pilot and co-pilot turned to look in the back at me, Comer asked, "what the hell are you doing, Waters?" I flipped them off and demanded to be taken back to the base.
My heart was pounding, my eyes were red and welled up and I felt like I was going to die if this type of flying went on for one more minute. No one else in the flight training, outside of our aircraft, knew of the conflict in our chopper. I refused to participate any further so we headed back to base.
I thought I might be in a heap of trouble. When we landed and shut the chopper down, I exited the aircraft without a word and went directly to maintenance control, and told of Comer's flight habits. They clearly saw that I was upset and seemed to want to just calm me down. I said very loud, "if this does not stop some one is going to die!" Their faces understood my concern but their response was, "you don't want to ruin this guy's career." I left in disgust and couldn't wait to get off work and get drunk. I spoke to no one else about it.
I drowned the emotions that night at the E-Club.
---
This is all I can write today, I'm overwhelmed. I will continue it with a part two tomorrow.
---
When one door closes, another door opens. I was considering leaving Facebook... when I got a post on my wall from a good friend Lisa about Lions and Tigers. In my response I had to look for a link to my old Marine Corps squadron, HMM262, the Flying Tigers. And there, I found photos that I spent the next two hours going through. Many memories flooded my mind.
There were videos of stuff like this. And when you've lived like that, it can at times, be difficult to find things as exciting in life outside the Corps. This was every day life. Lives were on the line. Decisions you made, documents you signed, directly affected lives.
And there were some that I served with that did not make good decisions. And they endangered lives along the way.
One particular day, which has had a more profound effect on me than any other, ended with four of my fellow Marines dead, one helicopter completely destroyed, one damaged and numerous lives to go on and never be the same.
It started the day before. I was a hard charging Marine, flying around on CH-46 helicopters and loving every minute of it. We were in Okinawa Japan at MCAS Futenma.
I headed out on a flight as Crew Chief with a hot-dog pilot named Comer. I do not remember the co-pilot that day.
We were involved in 2v1, two versus one combat flight maneuvers where two CH-46 helicopters, flying in formation would engage in aerial combat with a fixed wing OV-10 aircraft. There was also another helicopter involved that would circle the area, high above all the action, as an observer. The choppers would rotate after each encounter so everyone got some training. I emphasize training because that is what we're involved in here and I learned in Non Commissioned Officers School, that when you're leading training, if you injure a fellow Marine, then you have defeated the purpose of training and weakened the best fighting force the world has ever known.
So, we're flying along at low level, trying to blend our camouflage paint scheme in with the terrain below, our wing-man behind and to the right. We're vigilant out the windows, knowing the attack must come from above, since we're at a low level.
"Enemy spotted at 2 o-clock high," I shout. It is relayed over the radio to the wing-man, who acknowledges. We stay in formation and continue until the enemy would spot us and radio to announce it. Our response was "we have a tally," meaning we see everyone involved, us, the wing-man and the enemy, then announce "Fight's on!"
We turn to make the attack come from the rear. As the enemy closed in, we split, now the OV-10 has to make a choice as to which one to follow. We're zig-zagging away. The back of the air craft is twisting and turning. We pop a torque ball on an indicator in the cock pit and I notice we violate the hard deck, by dropping below 200' AGL (200 feet above ground level). Nothing but thick forest below.
The OV-10 chooses one of us and the other would then turn and get guns on the enemy intruder attacking our wing-man, announced with "guns, guns, guns," over the intercom.
Fight's off, and the OV-10 flies out of sight and we repeat the process allowing the wing-man to now lead and/or change places with the observation aircraft.
I'd flown in this and many other types of training, accumulating some 350+ hours at this point. But on this day, it was the first time I'd ever felt afraid. I mean, Marines just don't get afraid. It's not in our DNA.
But the way that Comer was flying was inappropriate and I told him so. I berated him. I'd never spoken that way to a superior officer. It was like treason, but when someone is doing what they should not be and lives are in jeopardy, something must be said.
He told me to chill out. So I laid down and strapped my self in and announced, "I QUIT!" When the pilot and co-pilot turned to look in the back at me, Comer asked, "what the hell are you doing, Waters?" I flipped them off and demanded to be taken back to the base.
My heart was pounding, my eyes were red and welled up and I felt like I was going to die if this type of flying went on for one more minute. No one else in the flight training, outside of our aircraft, knew of the conflict in our chopper. I refused to participate any further so we headed back to base.
I thought I might be in a heap of trouble. When we landed and shut the chopper down, I exited the aircraft without a word and went directly to maintenance control, and told of Comer's flight habits. They clearly saw that I was upset and seemed to want to just calm me down. I said very loud, "if this does not stop some one is going to die!" Their faces understood my concern but their response was, "you don't want to ruin this guy's career." I left in disgust and couldn't wait to get off work and get drunk. I spoke to no one else about it.
I drowned the emotions that night at the E-Club.
The next day was a bad day.
A very bad day.
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This is all I can write today, I'm overwhelmed. I will continue it with a part two tomorrow.
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Thursday, December 2, 2010
Its time... I can't contain it
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And sometimes that is a good thing and sometimes it is not. We watched a movie last night, The Insider and a line in that movie was, "know what you're going to do before you do it and then do it."
Maybe maturity has to do with not saying what you feel like and I lack that, but that is me and that, more than anything is what this is about.
I am me. I am human and I have faults and I don't try to hide them. There is a biblical scripture that says even a fool seems wise with his mouth shut, or something to that effect...okay Ill post the exact reference for you freakin literalists.
28 Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues.
Thats I right I said freakin. Get over it. Sheesh.
I'm on a journey like everyone else and along the way, as I was taught to bash homosexuals and unbelievers, I was taught understanding and tolerance by the most beautiful human I know, my wife Anita.
And I've carried on many lengthy deep conversation with a great Atheist friend Dawn whom I adore and really appreciate. It stretches me.
I'm rebellious to the most casual observer and when I read George Barna's book, "Revolution", I was motivated, inspired and enthralled. I jumped on the band wagon and bashed the traditional denominational church. Thus was born the simple, the organic, the cell group type church. One that was described as more biblical.
Well time passed and folks like Neil Cole and Tony & Felicty Dale, and a whole host of others wrote books all about this church in your home biblical format. How to do it, etc.
Tony and Felicity are incredible and have sacrificed much to further this arena. Much has been written from both the legacy church perspective and from the simple/organic church side. There have been man made labels of course, like emerging church, emergent church, Missional and so on and so forth.
Initially it was wanting a more intimate experience with God. Who doesn't want that? And there was a lot of criticism of the traditional church. Many many point blank statements like, "in the absence of the Holy Spirit there are programs."
Okay okay, so that seemed to die away some and then we began to see some organization. Conferences, books books and more books galore, along with newsletters and.... it was beginning to look a lot like them spiritual conferences with big names in the arena for them to sell their wares, not unlike any other amway convention or electronics or anything else. How to do music, how to have kids involved, how to break bread, how to....
More and more ways, how to's. How to seek God, come together without an agenda, exercise your spiritual gifts etc etc etc.
Even Methods of talking to the lord daily. CO2's (church of two). LK10's (Luke 10-2 pray to the lord of the harvest...) the mantra of this movement along with acts 2:42 - they met in their homes and broke bread with glad hearts and .... their number grew daily.
Growing faith where life happens
Ya know, IF you're gonna be biblical, I mean you're moving toward literal, then
This grew into just plain biblical, leaving all other forms of church as wrong. Even heretical. Neil Cole even had the audacity to post a note and/or blog about the roman emporer Constantine being Satan's entry into the church as the institution was created and exists today, 1700 years later.
I was incredibly offended by his assertion and felt it completely disrespectful and uncalled for. If you want to get closer to God, then go in your closet and get close. STOP blasting any and all other manners of worship.
Hey, I'm guilty of all of it at one time or another. Neil is on a pedestal in this arena and should not in my opinion still be bashing the church.
So I confront him publicly on facebook, since his attack is public and he gets offended and calls me juvenile after accusing me of being a name caller, so I call him a hypocrite.
Whatever, Neil and no one else is the authority on God or the appropriate way to worship.
That is what gets to me more than anything else is when someone asserts their way is the right way or asserts to know the mind of God and what God wants. It sickens me. It makes me want to distance myself from those types and their methods as far as I can get.
Get over yourself!
Right, wrong? It's me, remember I said I'm human and have faults? There ya go.
I should get over me too.
I do see something in the simple/organic church happening. They're organizing like the traditional church, calling it networks which is incredibly similar to denominational districts. They getting paid staff and growing their budgets along the way as well. Some of the many things they initially and some still do, criticize the institutional/traditional/legacy churches of.
( I want to to loudly proclaim that Tony and Felicity Dale never bashed the church and as far as I know always referred to it as their brothers and sisters and asserted it to be a field ripe for harvest like every where else.)
I see groups claiming they gave away a million dollars over the course of seven years and this is how you too can do it!!!!, throwing that in the face of the traditional church.
I never recall Jesus or the Apostle Paul using quantities to laud anything they did for the kingdom.
So this leads me to social media and publicly approving or denouncing anything.
I'm involved in a ministry and we have a blog site for the ministry. This is the blog site for me.
I am Not the ministry. I want to be able to be me, faults and all and voice my opinion, whether in accordance with or in opposition to an agenda or person.
Much like a disclaimer at the bottom of the rolling screen in fine print or quickly spoken on the radio... in no way does this represent the opinion of the ministry or anything else that can be held against us etc...
So, be me and leave the social media scene or reign it in and lay low, "under Satan's radar screen," as my friend Ralph would say.
I think Ill go back to sites where one can openly debate and no one cares who you are. They're just glad you're there and when they're offended they get over it. They don't block you like Neil did me.
Here's my request to you Neil Cole, since you're not going to allow me to reply further, please delete my comments from the discussion on your page.
I had a blow out with Maurice Smith similarly over networking simple churches and the biblical references which also led into a discussion of his book, "All dogs go to heaven, don't they?" a book against Unitarianism. We no longer communicate.
There is one judge and in my opinion my great friend Jacq said it best, "none of us have a clue, but we can love God and love people."
I finally figured out what bothers me most in all of this. Its the apparent bullying. I grew up with a couple of bullies and I just won't tolerate it. When one group starts beating up on another group, I see it as bullying and something deep inside comes up and I can't contain it.
Namaste
---
And sometimes that is a good thing and sometimes it is not. We watched a movie last night, The Insider and a line in that movie was, "know what you're going to do before you do it and then do it."
Maybe maturity has to do with not saying what you feel like and I lack that, but that is me and that, more than anything is what this is about.
I am me. I am human and I have faults and I don't try to hide them. There is a biblical scripture that says even a fool seems wise with his mouth shut, or something to that effect...okay Ill post the exact reference for you freakin literalists.
Proverbs 17:28 (New International Version, ©2010)
28 Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent,
Thats I right I said freakin. Get over it. Sheesh.
I'm on a journey like everyone else and along the way, as I was taught to bash homosexuals and unbelievers, I was taught understanding and tolerance by the most beautiful human I know, my wife Anita.
And I've carried on many lengthy deep conversation with a great Atheist friend Dawn whom I adore and really appreciate. It stretches me.
I'm rebellious to the most casual observer and when I read George Barna's book, "Revolution", I was motivated, inspired and enthralled. I jumped on the band wagon and bashed the traditional denominational church. Thus was born the simple, the organic, the cell group type church. One that was described as more biblical.
Well time passed and folks like Neil Cole and Tony & Felicty Dale, and a whole host of others wrote books all about this church in your home biblical format. How to do it, etc.
Tony and Felicity are incredible and have sacrificed much to further this arena. Much has been written from both the legacy church perspective and from the simple/organic church side. There have been man made labels of course, like emerging church, emergent church, Missional and so on and so forth.
Initially it was wanting a more intimate experience with God. Who doesn't want that? And there was a lot of criticism of the traditional church. Many many point blank statements like, "in the absence of the Holy Spirit there are programs."
Okay okay, so that seemed to die away some and then we began to see some organization. Conferences, books books and more books galore, along with newsletters and.... it was beginning to look a lot like them spiritual conferences with big names in the arena for them to sell their wares, not unlike any other amway convention or electronics or anything else. How to do music, how to have kids involved, how to break bread, how to....
More and more ways, how to's. How to seek God, come together without an agenda, exercise your spiritual gifts etc etc etc.
Even Methods of talking to the lord daily. CO2's (church of two). LK10's (Luke 10-2 pray to the lord of the harvest...) the mantra of this movement along with acts 2:42 - they met in their homes and broke bread with glad hearts and .... their number grew daily.
Growing faith where life happens
Ya know, IF you're gonna be biblical, I mean you're moving toward literal, then
This grew into just plain biblical, leaving all other forms of church as wrong. Even heretical. Neil Cole even had the audacity to post a note and/or blog about the roman emporer Constantine being Satan's entry into the church as the institution was created and exists today, 1700 years later.
I was incredibly offended by his assertion and felt it completely disrespectful and uncalled for. If you want to get closer to God, then go in your closet and get close. STOP blasting any and all other manners of worship.
Hey, I'm guilty of all of it at one time or another. Neil is on a pedestal in this arena and should not in my opinion still be bashing the church.
So I confront him publicly on facebook, since his attack is public and he gets offended and calls me juvenile after accusing me of being a name caller, so I call him a hypocrite.
Whatever, Neil and no one else is the authority on God or the appropriate way to worship.
That is what gets to me more than anything else is when someone asserts their way is the right way or asserts to know the mind of God and what God wants. It sickens me. It makes me want to distance myself from those types and their methods as far as I can get.
Get over yourself!
Right, wrong? It's me, remember I said I'm human and have faults? There ya go.
I should get over me too.
I do see something in the simple/organic church happening. They're organizing like the traditional church, calling it networks which is incredibly similar to denominational districts. They getting paid staff and growing their budgets along the way as well. Some of the many things they initially and some still do, criticize the institutional/traditional/legacy churches of.
( I want to to loudly proclaim that Tony and Felicity Dale never bashed the church and as far as I know always referred to it as their brothers and sisters and asserted it to be a field ripe for harvest like every where else.)
I see groups claiming they gave away a million dollars over the course of seven years and this is how you too can do it!!!!, throwing that in the face of the traditional church.
I never recall Jesus or the Apostle Paul using quantities to laud anything they did for the kingdom.
So this leads me to social media and publicly approving or denouncing anything.
I'm involved in a ministry and we have a blog site for the ministry. This is the blog site for me.
I am Not the ministry. I want to be able to be me, faults and all and voice my opinion, whether in accordance with or in opposition to an agenda or person.
Much like a disclaimer at the bottom of the rolling screen in fine print or quickly spoken on the radio... in no way does this represent the opinion of the ministry or anything else that can be held against us etc...
So, be me and leave the social media scene or reign it in and lay low, "under Satan's radar screen," as my friend Ralph would say.
I think Ill go back to sites where one can openly debate and no one cares who you are. They're just glad you're there and when they're offended they get over it. They don't block you like Neil did me.
Here's my request to you Neil Cole, since you're not going to allow me to reply further, please delete my comments from the discussion on your page.
I had a blow out with Maurice Smith similarly over networking simple churches and the biblical references which also led into a discussion of his book, "All dogs go to heaven, don't they?" a book against Unitarianism. We no longer communicate.
There is one judge and in my opinion my great friend Jacq said it best, "none of us have a clue, but we can love God and love people."
I finally figured out what bothers me most in all of this. Its the apparent bullying. I grew up with a couple of bullies and I just won't tolerate it. When one group starts beating up on another group, I see it as bullying and something deep inside comes up and I can't contain it.
Namaste
---
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