High Flight - January 28th 1986

[Yeager]

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue,
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high unsurpassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

http://www.datamanos2.com/icarus_rising.html

Peace, Love

[Ripsnort]

In loving memory--Feb.1st, 2003.

[CyranoAH]

[Glasses]

[Hortlund]

[udet]

[Kanth]

[crowMAW]

The Star Road
by Mercedes Lackey

When you sing of Columbia or the Eagle
And reach for the stars as your ultimate goal.
Recall who fell along the way,
For the star road takes a fearful toll,
The star road takes a fearful toll.

And it might have been Armstrong, Aldrin, Cernan,
Shepard, Carpenter, Cooper, or Glenn.
They all knew well the questor's fee,
And the star-road's paved with the lives of men,
The star road's paved with the lives of men.

For the price was paid on a winter evening
When "Fire in the spacecraft!" somebody said.
In smoke and flame, the shadow passed
And in Capsule Twelve three men were dead.
In Capsule Twelve three men were dead.

Forget not yet who paid the forfeit
To conquer the stars in the Eagle's flight.
"It's worth the price," they said who paid:
Grissom, Chaffee, and Edward White.
Grissom, Chaffee, and Edward White.


RIP: Husband, McCool, Anderson, Chawla, Brown, Clark, Ramon.

[Hortlund]

Lord, guard and guide the men who fly
Though the great spaces in the sky.
Be with them always in the air,
In darkening storms or sunlight fair;
Oh, hear us when we lift our prayer,
For those in peril in the air!

Aloft in solitudes of space,
Uphold them with Thy saving grace.
Thou Who supports with tender might
The balanced birds in all their flight.
Lord, if the tempered winds be near,
That, having Thee, they know no fear.

(variant, Eternal Father strong to save)

[TWOLF]

Thanks all (dabbing eyes)

  "and on silvery wings they flew to heaven"

[Hangtime]

Let the sweet fresh breezes heal me
As they rove around the girth
Of our lovely mother planet
Of the cool, green hills of Earth.

The arching sky is calling
Spacemen back to their trade.
ALL HANDS!  STAND BY!  FREE FALLING!
And the lights below us fade.

Out ride the sons of Terra,
Far drives the thundering jet,
Up leaps the race of Earthmen,
Out, far, and onward yet ---

We pray for one last landing
On the globe that gave us birth;
Let us rest our eyes on the friendly skies
And the cool, green hills of Earth.

    -- Robert A. Heinlein

[TWOLF]

Bump

[medicboy]

High Flight was written as a poem by a 19 yo "boy"  in a letter to his parrents.  He was stationed in Europe in 1942, was the pilot of a fighter (not sure which model)  shortly after sending this letter home he died at the controlls over France escorting bombers on the way to Germany.

This poem was read at the funeral of my best friend that died January 29 2003 after spending 10 months in ICU.  He was a flight paramedic with our company, on March 21 2002  the helicopter he was flying in went down. Crashing into a nearby lake at 130kts.  The pilot (a 24 year army helo pilot, with over 10,000 hrs in helicopters and fixed wing, cesna 421b) was killed instantly, Gary (the nurse) was back at work in 2 months, Chuck(the medic) never left the hospital.

[usarmy]

The "High Flight" poem was used in a video tribute to my dad after his crash and death. He had over 30,000 flight hours, mostly as a helicopter logging pilot. His helicopter just stopped flying only 10 minutes before he was to land and come home on March 26, 2002. The co-pilot survived, but doesn't recall anything about the accident to include how he got out of the burning wreckage.

The John Gillespie Magee Jr. story is quite touching, too. Medicboy, he flew spits.

High Flight was composed by Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee, Jr., an American serving with the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was born in Shanghai, China in 1922, the son of missionary parents, Reverend and Mrs. John Gillespie Magee; his father was an American and his mother was originally a British citizen.
He came to the U.S. in 1939 and earned a scholarship to Yale, but in September 1940 he enlisted in the RCAF and was graduated as a pilot. He was sent to England for combat duty in July 1941.
In August or September 1941, Pilot Officer Magee composed High Flight and sent a copy to his parents. Several months later, on December 11, 1941 his Spitfire collided with another plane over England and Magee, only 19 years of age, crashed to his death.

His remains are buried in the churchyard cemetery at Scopwick, Lincolnshire.

How many can say they died doing what they loved?

usarmy

[mjolnir]

One More Roll
by Commander Gerald Coffee, Hanoi, 1968

We toast our faithful comrades
Now fallen from the sky
And gently caught by God's own hand
To be with him on High

To dwell among the soaring clouds
They knew so well before
From dawn patrol to victory roll
At heaven's very door

And as we soar among them there
We're sure to hear their plea
"Take care my friend, watch your six
And do one more roll, just for me."