On Sunday Jan 11, 2009, I was informed that my oldest friend Patrick L. had passed away.  Patrick and I met in Tuxedo Trailer Park in Rome, New York. I don’t remember the particular circumstances of that first meeting, as I was four or five. He was a year older. What I do remember is the fun, troubles and other adventures we got into over the next five years. Our friendship brought together three families, his, mine and Pam and Bill E.  Life long friends. Pat was more than a friend, he was family.

As happens with most military friendships, it was a permanent change of station that separated us. Pat’s dad was transferred to Whiteman AFB in Missouri, and we move to Wright-Patterson AFB in Ohio. Other friends came into my life but Patrick never left it. We stayed in touch the the old fashioned way (back before the Internet), writing letters and talking on the phone.  We got the chance to see his family again in 1975 as my family traveled west to Mountain Home AFB in Idaho.

When I finished basic training at Ft Leonard Wood, Patrick came down to attend and then I went to visit with him and his family in Knob Noster. It was as if we hadn’t ever been separated.  In 85, Pat came and participated in my wedding.

Pat had a history of medical adventures. From his childhood to the death, Pat dealt with issues with his deep faith in Christ. Pat was in pain much of his adult life. He had been in and out of the hospital in a effort to handle the pain. He suffered a stroke and had a pain stimulator inserted and removed and recently had a pacemaker installed. He suffered from headaches and hallucinations. It was a way for his body to compensate for the pain.

On Saturday Pat was in the hospital and talking to his nurse. She left the room and wasn’t there when his blood pressure dropped. By the time the monitors alerted and he was stabilized, his brain had been deprived of oxygen for 10 mins. If he was to recover, he would have been in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.  His mother, brother, and sister made the decision to remove him from mechanical life support. It was a hard decision, but the right one. As his sister told me, at long last Pat wasn’t in pain. He was taken home to with the lord Jesus Christ.

The memorial service was very nice. It was held at Rocky Bayou Baptist Church where Pat was a member. The service was a tribute to his life and celebration of Christ. The Eglin AFB honor guard presented the flag to his mother and gave a 21 gun salute. Pat’s niece Ceylona played Pat’s favorite Hymnals, The Lord’s Prayer and Feel the Nails on the flute. My favorite part was the slide show of his life. I was included as part of the family along with with Bill and Pam E.

Pat, you were loved as a brother, and we will miss your presence in this world. I will always remember the joy and love you brought into others lives. 

What is it that makes us the person we end up being? I’m not a psychologist, nor do I play one on TV, but I’ve been pondering that question.  I’ve been observing my kids and how different they all are, and from there, how different I am from my siblings.  Reflecting upon who I am and what I like to do, I think I can point to a couple of different events in my childhood that made me who I am. 

I stated on my facebook account that “I’m a shy and quiet guy, until you get to know me. Then you realize that I’m a shy and quiet guy.” Compared to my siblings, I am the quiet one.  Was there an event in my childhood that defined me?

As I said, I’ve been pondering this for awhile, and I think that yes, there are defining moments. The first had to be in 2nd grade when I was introduced to the library. What a wonder of information that was stored there.

I got glasses in the 4th grade. Why would this be my defining moment? Before this moment I was an active kid, even with knowing where the library was. Afterwards, well, my glasses were big and ugly and I was self conscious about them. I was also reminded that I had to protect them.

 
I played sports, loved baseball, but couldn’t see well through my glasses to hit or catch the ball with any consistency.  Tried basketball and football, but the glasses were a burden.  My friends were good at sports. I became the typical bookworm.

I became a consumer of the written word. Biographies, histories, westerns, science fiction and fantasy, comics, the back of cereal boxes. I was rarel without a book. In the summer of 76, the Mountain Home AFB Library had a reading contest for kids. Who could read the most books over summer vacation. I took that challenge.

I read 92 books that summer and discovered many favorite authors, particularly Andre Norton, Ann McCarthy and Louis L’Amour. I thought I had won that contest, but discovered that my baseball coach’s daughter read 91 books. The library staff was so impressed with the two of us that they gave us both the prize. I got a gift certificate to a book store and a host of new friends.

New friends that took me to far away places or even familiar places. Louis L’Amour wrote about the wild west. And later, he wrote a series about the Sacketts. The first Sackett was Barnabas Sackett from the Fens of England. The Fens were the wetlands surrounding Ely and Cambridge in England. Now drained and home to Littleport, Ely, Mildenhall RAFB, Lakenheath RAFB Feltwell.. The land of the heroes of the Battle of Britain. Where Eagles Flew and John Gillespie McGee, Jr. “slipped the surly bonds of earth..”  A place to grow up for a military nut.

Where was I?  Who am I?

I’m the shy quiet guy who is comfortable with being alone as long as he has a good book.

After 5 cold years in the frigid north, I’m finally heading back to the wonderfully warm south.  I’ve accepted a position with Lakeland Regional Medical Center and will be heading that way on the 19th of July. Not a lot of time to find a place to live before I start my new job, so I’ll be working to find a place toot sweet. I will be starting work on the 28th of July.

What a precious little baby you were. It has been only 13 years, but seems like only yesterday. Just ask your mom.  You have grown up so fast. Only 2 more years before you start to drive.  Remind me to be back in Florida before that day comes.  Ha Ha.  Love ya Kiddo!

It’s someone’s birthday today. You know who you are.

  The accidental child.  Aunt Barb and Mary were telling me just the other day how Grandma Hill sent them to school and how the bus driver told Aunt Barb not to tell Aunt Mary that there was a baby brother at home. Who was the most surprised? Barb, Mary or Grandma Hill? 

The Fisherman. The fishing trips to the Snake river in Idaho, deep sea fishing in the English Channel, Annual fly fishing trips in Tennessee. This love of stinky fish guts must have started early. Who was it that instilled it in you?  Grandpa, or one of your brothers or sisters?

The world traveler. So tell me when did you decide to explore the world? Was it the class trip to Washington DC with the rest of your senior class? Where all have you been? How many states have you been to? How many countries?  Did it all start here at the White House?

The Military man. This is  how I remember you;  the Air Force NCO. Check out that uniform. From 1961 to 1981 you made it a career. You have had a second career after that, but is the Air Force that defines you. 

So which one of these is the real Tommy Hill?  All of them. They all combine to be the man I’m so proud to call my Dad. 

Happy 65th Birthday Dad!