Happy Veterans' Day!

[JohnKachenmeister]

To everybody here who ever had the honor of carrying a green Armed Forced ID Card in you wallet, thanks for your service.

And tonight, when the work of the day is done, and you have more than 8 hours before you intend to fly again, treat yourself to an adult beverage.

Savor it, be happy you survived this far, and remember those brothers and sisters who did not.

I get off work tonight at 2300.  I will be "First round downrange" NLT 2310!

Semper Vi!

[shorning]

To everybody here who ever had the honor of carrying a green Armed Forced ID Card in you wallet, thanks for your service.

Well, ID cards aren't green anymore, but I've been around long enough to have one.  So, thanks.  And thank you for your service as well.

[JohnKachenmeister]

What color are they for active duty folks?  Mine's still pink.  Turns bluish-gray in 2.5 years.

[aveighter]

My first was reddish-pink.  That was 35 years ago.

I went to see Flags of our Fathers night before last.  Very sobering.  Should be required viewing for all personnel starting in high school.  I have a small glass vial with sand from the beach at Tarawa and look at it often just to remember.

John, my younger son the C-17 pilot leaves this week for Viet Nam.  In the course of his travels he routinely talks to air traffic control in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon).  My how things change.

So, Happy Veterans Day.  My flags are flying and I salute you all!  May God bless this nation and the troops around the globe.  I pray He will guide us all, each and every one.

[JAFO78]

Thanks to all Vets living or who gave their lives for our country. I am always quite on Vets day as I think about what this day means to me. Thanks to all my classmates who served.

A special thanks to LCDR Roy Johnson USN (ret.) who was at Pearl Harbor 12-7-41 onboard the USS Nevada. We was the closest many of us got to being onboard with his talks every year. He was the best instructor in NAVY JROTC. Sadly I learned he passed a few years ago like many of our WW2 vets.

I take my glass and raise it to you all.   Thank you.

[shorning]

What color are they for active duty folks?  Mine's still pink.  Turns bluish-gray in 2.5 years.

All Common Access Cards are white: 

[bosshawk]

A little late in joining the salute to those who have served and to those who are still serving on active duty.  My 30 years of Army service flew by and I consider myself singularly honored to have spent those years in service to the nation and to every one of you who read this.  My CAP service continues that attention to service.

I saw service in Germany, Korea and Viet Nam, to name the overseas tours and loads of time in various stateside assignments.  I have never met either an active duty serviceman or woman or a veteran who I didn't consider a comrade.  Special bond, as I am sure all of you will agree.

All gave some: some gave all.  That says it for me.

[JohnKachenmeister]

Well, it was a good plan.

I was going to get off work on Friday night and rie over to a local bar near my house and tip a few.

So I changed clothes at work, hopped on my Harley Davidson, and headed out.

I only made it a few miles.

I was in the inside lane of a 4-lane divided street, driving right about at the 50 mph speed limit.  Unfortunately, this is Florida, and for some drivers, making it all the way to the speed limit will likely send their pacemakers into overtime.

I saw a pickup truck that was ahead of me suddenly hit his brakes because of one of those drivers who think it best to drive 30 mph in a 50 zone.  What happened next altered my social plans for the evening.

The pickup truck changed lanes, without bothering to warn me first with a signal.  But, I was right behind him in the lane that he wanted.  He pulled directly into the path of me and my motorcycle. 

I didn't have time to hit the horn, so I hit the brakes.  I started to slide with my wheels locked, and the pickup truck was getting much bigger.  I had no choice except dump the motorcycle or hit the truck.  So I went to ground.

I have never hit pavement with my body at 50 miles per hour before.  I don't recomend it as a way to spend a pleasant Friday evening.

I went down to the left, with my motorcycle skidding on its side.  Somewhere in the slide, I became separated from my bike.  My bike contined on its left side, while I twisted and skidded on about every side.  Somewhere else, my left boot came off.  When I stopped, I could not move my legs.  Before I stopped my knuckle head hit the pavement at least twice.

So, there I was... My bike laying on its side looking like road kill, and me laying on the inside lane of a major arterial thoughofare wearing dark clothing and about to become actual road kill unless I got my butt out of the hammer lane.

Since my legs were not responding to messages from Cranium Command Central, I had my arms take up the slack to pull myself up onto the median.  I rolled over onto my back, and then began to feel my legs again.  With difficulty, I stood up.  The pickup truck driver had stopped, but didn't stick around.  Apparently since I wasn't dead, he saw no reason to get involved with all those uncomfortable questions from the police, like:  "Do you have a license to drive?"

Then, the old reliable Pain Department of Cranium Command Central began relaying messages to me from various parts of my body.  The messages were urgent, and expressed great displeasure with the events of the last several seconds.  My back, both legs, and my left arm all hurt terribly.  My toes were poking through what remained of my left sock, and my jacket's left sleeve looked like strands of wet spaghetti, with the tomato sauce being provided by my blood.

I tried to get my cell phone out of my saddlebag, but bending down to my motorcycle caused me some God-awful pain.

Then some idiot ran over my left boot, which was still in the road.  I silently thanked God that I no longer was on the road.

Before I could get to my cell phone, a police cruiser came up behind me.  He had heard the crash and the skid of steel-on-asphalt, and came over to investigate.

Also, a very pretty girl named Melissa stopped, and said that she saw the accident from the oncoming lane.  She said that she thought the truck had hit me, which indicates just how close we came.

More policemen and a fire pumper arrived, the report was taken care of, and no, I didn't get the license plate of the truck, since I was busy trying to keep alive at the time.  The firemen put bandages on my "Road rash."  They told me they didn't have Telfa pads, so I knew taking off the gauze 4x4's would hurt.  I don't know what happened to Telfa pads, but I know we had them in Vietnam.

My bike was drivable, and in fact was in better shape than I was.  My helmet had two deep scratches on it.  I thanked God again that it wasn't my head with those deep scratches.  That just might have damaged and shut down Cranium Command Central.

The firemen wanted to call an ambulance, but I declined their kind offer.  I did not want to spend Friday night in a crowded inner-city emergency room.   I was carrying a pistol, and I didn't want to have to dig up the receipt to get it out of the police property room, which is where it would go if I had to go to the hospital.  I had some prescribed muscle-relaxants at home, so no big deal.

So, I fired up the Harley, and heaed toward home.

I did stop at the local bar to complete my mission, but I was an hour late.  While I was there, I noticed another abrasion that I didn't realize I had.  One of the guys in the bar is an EMT (Who I have been trying to recruit for the CAP) and he bandaged that one with the first aid kit he keeps in his car.  The bar owner spang for a shot of Jack Daniels to settle my nerves.  I had three beers, and went home.

The next day I couldn't get out of the rack.  Ouch, did it hurt!

My wife nagged me into going to the emergency room, where I sat in a wheelchair for more than two hours before I could get to see the first of several nurses.  Then back to the E.R. itself, having been judged worthy to enter the Domain by the gatekeeper triage nurse.

Overall, though, I'm glad I went.  The doctor prescribed a strong narcotic for pain, and I was able to get some rest.  Actually, with these drugs, resting and sleeping is about all I can do.

But even though I am in pain, and my perfect Florida arm-tan is scraped away in spots, there's still some good things to consider:

The safety attitude isn't just for CAP activities and flying.  I always wear a helmet and I always wear jeans when I ride.  Guys in shorts letting the fair wind of freedom blow through their hair have yet to experience real pain.  I bought a bike with roll bars, which not only protected me to a certain extent, but also protected the bike.

There's not many options left to you when a truck decides to test the Law of Physics and tries to get two objects to occupy the same space at the same time, but you can be prepared to minimize the damage and injury.

My wife wants me to sell the Harley, but I told here the only way I would do that is if I could then buy an airplane.  End of discussion, since the Harley is (slightly) cheaper!

The airplane is safer, though.  I never heard of anybody getting "Sky rash."

[mawr]

John, I'm so glad that you came out of this in as good a condition as you did.  I'm a biker as well and know there is precious little consideration for bikes on the road.

My wife and I straightened out a curve as slow speed and went down a ravine where I was thrown over the handle bars and wind shield and landed chest first on a huge rock in a dry stream bed.  Our Harley was toast and I began to tighten up so I let the responders call an ambulance so I know what you mean about going to the emergency room.  It was winter and we were leathered up so no road rash but my chest was so badly bruised that I had to sleep sitting up for over a year.

I figured that the wife was done with me and the bike but as we waited on the ambulance, she asked how long did I think it would take to get the bike repaired so we could ride again.

I wish you well on your recovery and hopefully your wife will reconsider.

[Psicorp]

Ouch!!  I'm glad you're okay and that your ride wasn't too damaged.  Way too close of a call, guess it just wasn't your time.

It's truly amazing the difference between getting in a plane and getting in a car.  Most people just hop in their cars and go...often turning up the stereo and chatting on the phone with little thought as to what's going outside their windshields.  I'm surprised the safety statistics are as good as they are.

Get some well earned rest.

[Al Sayre]

Glad to hear you're going to be OK.  I had a similar experience on 192 in Melbourne, rain and blue hair seem to cause a lot of accidents...  Thank God for leather and Levi Strauss. 

[bosshawk]

Kach: you now will have another Veterans Day to remember.  Sorry about your experiences of last night, but glad that you live to fight another day.  I live in the Sierra foothills and we have blue hairs that drive 30 in a 55 zone all the time.  I have managed to live into my seventh decade without throwing my leg over a motorcycle, so consider myself lucky.  I have been flying airplanes since 1959 and (knock on wood)(my head), I haven't laid one of them on its side.

Take care, my good man.