the mighty eighth

B-17 "Flying Fortress" being restored at the museum.

I was welcomed at the door by a kindly old veteran.  He introduced himself as we shook hands.  While visiting the Mighty Eighth Air Force Museum in Savanah, I could tell on the faces of all three old guides, that they were proud to be there.  At one point, one of the old gentlemen said that he's just as proud of his service to the Mighty Eighth Army Air Force Museum just much as he did during the Korean War.  They were there to honor those who served and didn't return.

As a boy, I was fascinated by that war.  I'd watch the old television shows, the movies.  My dad had a book Collier's Photographic History of WWII (1945) on the bookshelf.  I spent hours upon hours as a kid flipping through the pages of that book.  At that time, the war was only a few short decades ago.  The black and white images pushed the war into ancient of days.  Fathers didn't talk about it much so their children could be spared the pain of their sacrifice.  Their gift to their children was peace.

I continued my fascination as I grew up - reading many books about that war.  I have never lost my fascination of that time in our nation's history...in our world's history.

There was a moment during my visit to the museum that I thought about my boyhood fascination versus my adulthood fascination.  The museum attempted to offer the visitor a firsthand multimedia experience to simulate a bomb mission.  I felt the blast of cold air hit me from the bomb-bay doors opening from the floor, flack bursts in stereo, back and forth radio chatter. I didn't feel an exhilaration that I would have once felt as a boy.  I sat there trying to hold back tears.