It is morning again. In some ways, I feel an impending sense of urgency
to fix the problems I see around me but at other times I understand that
if I do not do it, somebody else will, but why not me? Some things are
intuitive. People know after dark not to go to some places but
there are other things that are not intuitive. When a person loses their sight,
they often find themselves lost in the world they once knew. When they
attempt to find their way in a dark world, they get bumps, bruises and
take falls... Sometimes the blind man learns to navigate the world in
darkness and finds their way anyway... but other times a blind man runs
into obstacles and gives up just short of achieving his goals. My goal
as a child was to fly. I would do anything to fly.
When I was a young child, growing up in
West Texas, I would often fall asleep at night and
leave my body behind... With the will of my desire, I would soar above
my neighborhood and look down on the world below. Even though it was
dark outside, I could see everything. It was as if the limitations of my
vision were gone but still when I did not give my energy to flying, I would begin to descend, from way up on high, to glide down just above the
rooftops in my neighborhood. I would see the tops of transformers, a
lost frisbee and an occasional shoe or rock below on the rooftops of my
neighbor's houses. It was no dream. It was my joy to fly.
Sometimes, we will try to manifest our dreams we dream in the physical world. I
would doodle in class while everyone else was learning what adjectives
and adverbs were. To this day I still do not know. I was put in classes
away from my more conscientious peers and drew airplanes and rockets and
fantasized that I was the a
fighter pilot in my drawings and I would do
flip books with my enemies going down in flames. I would dream of
scenarios that allowed me to fly. The only way I could imagine that
flying could happen for me was to join the air-force. I could be a pilot, save
my nation from the bad guys and be a hero to God. My plan was not
something I took lightly.
I threw three paper routes each day and I worked in a burger place for a Summer,
cutting onions, sorting pickles, scraping the grease pits and mopping
greasy floors to save money to pay for a motorcycle. I would jump across bar
ditches and race up ramps. I could almost fly on a motorcycle but when I
was 15, I bought a street motorcycle that I could drive to a Midland,
Texas airport and learn to fly. I loved motorcycles and my dream of
I had never been a good reader but I forced my good eye to read
for me and I learned to read so I could take the ground portion for my
pilot certification. I made a 93 on my written test.
I was a small child at 15. My instructor would have to put a
phone-book under me so I could see over the dash but I could fly like
like the wind. My proudest moment was when my instructor brought out his
adult students to show them how this kid could land an airplane in a
stiff crosswind. I would crab into the wind and just at the last moment
correct the airplane and touch down into a perfect landing.
As I was growing older, I continued pursuing my desire to fly but my fantasy of destroying
the Kremlin was still very much alive. I learned that a nuclear bomb could be created by
information that was readily available and a super genius I played
simulated war games with new how to make one. At 17, I was going to make
my dreams a reality and the world was clearing the path for me.
As a young man who would do anything to fly, my dream of becoming a
suicide bomber was growing more real every day. I came to know that my
eyesight was was not good enough to fly in the Air Force and my grades
were not good enough to make it anyway but the army had a program that
did not require perfect vision as long as it was correctable.
My little one is calling for me again... I will finish this up later... .