Archive for Aviation – Page 10

Changing Times…

This morning I saw a Facebook post from my friend Pete. He was writing from a swim meet in Brunei. Now how exotic is that? A middle school swim meet in Brunei? I used to think it was a stretch to drive my son to West Yellowstone for a XC camp.

The genie is really out of the bottle; live globally, play locally. Pete lives in Bangkok. He’s married to a lovely Thai woman and they have a 12-year-old daughter who swims. Brunei? It’s not Spokane, Pocatello, or West Yellowstone but there was a team competition there last weekend that drew 7 teams, including hers. read more

A Bipartisan Friendship…

This is a story about friendship. My buddy, Dennis, and I have known each other for 50 years. We flew Marine fighters, Pan Am airliners, and saw the inside of a lot of bars together. He’s something of a legend among his friends, but to understand our friendship I need to tell my favorite Dennis story. He calls it the “Checkpoint Panzer” incident. I think of it as “Dennis’s Escape from Freedom Run.”

One night after work, before the Berlin Wall came down, our flight crew gathered at the Columbia Club, one of several US military clubs where Pan Am pilots had privileges. On this particular night, there was some drinking involved, a borrowed car, a dark night, and no adult supervision. read more

Remembering a Friend…

Often, as the year draws to a close, my thoughts return to friends who departed the planet earlier than they should have. Those memories remind me that we never achieved a natural closure – that their premature deaths inflicted wounds that are slow to heal.

Gary Gibson Stoecker is one of those friends. Gary and I were young Pan Am pilots when we met in 1972. We both lived in Mill Valley, flew out of San Francisco, and our lives continued to parallel each other as we moved on to Ketchum Idaho in 1973 and Berlin in the late ’70’s. read more

Violent Tranquility

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I took this picture at the burial site of John and Jacqueline Kennedy looking up the hill toward the Robert E. Lee mansion (Arlington House) at Arlington National Cemetery.

I regret never having been to Arlington until this trip. It’s a moving experience. Last weekend we were fortunate to have a beautiful fall day with relatively small crowds. For two weeks leading up to the visit we were exposed to a crash course in American history, visited the homes of Washington, Jefferson, Madison and Monroe, toured the battlefields of Antietam and Gettysburg, and stood at the Lincoln, Jefferson, FDR, MLK, and Vietnam memorial sites. It was only fitting that Arlington be the capstone to our American history tour.

There is something both alluring and magnetic about cemeteries. Freshly mowed neatly trimmed lawns. Flower borders. Shade trees. Headstones, crosses, and flat gravestones aligned in eye-pleasing rows. None is more alluring or magnetic than the National Cemetery.

Wordsworth’s definition of poetry might as easily apply to the landscape at Arlington; He said poetry is the “spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings,” that it takes its origin from “emotion recollected in tranquility.” At Arlington, America’s fallen lie in tranquility, the violence and emotion of their deaths neatly buried, like their bodies, beneath the manicured carpet of grass that rises and falls on the ridges and swales of this serene landscape.

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Today, I’m thinking of America’s war dead, recent and not so recent – more than 400,000 of them buried within the 624 acres that lie on this hill above the Potomac. Within its boundaries are presidents (JFK and Taft), generals (Pershing and Marshall), servicemen and women from every war in US history, the Tomb of the Unknowns (above) dedicated to those who remain unidentified, as well as 4000 emancipated, freed and fugitive slaves. It is truly America’s graveyard.

No visit to Washington is ever complete, for me, without a stop at the Vietnam Memorial. It’s personal as well as symbolic. The Vietnam War is the most significant geo-political event of my generation’s lifetime. 58,000 Americans died there between 1964 and the fall of Saigon on April 30, 1975. When I visit I go immediately to Panel 30E, Row 83 where the name of Lewis Herbert Abrams is inscribed in the black granite.

Lew was my F11F instructor at NAS Beeville, Texas. He was a Yale English graduate before joining the Marine Corps. At the final stage of advanced training, he taught me air-to-air tactics, gunnery, and flew my wing as I broke the sound barrier for the first time. I also remember him quoting a William Carlos Williams poem during a preflight briefing. He was not your average Marine Corps fighter pilot.

I can’t say I knew him well, but as a fellow English major/Marine fighter pilot I felt a kinship. Col. Lewis Herbert Abrams died in an A6 Intruder over North Vietnam on November 25, 1967. I knew others whose names are on the Wall, but it’s Lew’s name I always visit, touch, and think about.

Semper Fi.

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Art on the National Mall

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It’s been more than 50 years since I first visited the National Gallery. At that time there was no dedicated space for modern art and what we think of as modern was mostly absent from its collection. There was no abstract expressionism, no color field painting, no installation environments, no minimalist art, and the printmaking renaissance of Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg was still in the future. Fresh out of college, my own taste ran to French Impressionism and Picasso’s blue, rose, and cubist periods.

The one “modern” painting I found memorable on that visit was Salvador Dali’s The Sacrament of the Last Supper. At the time it seemed shocking.

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I wasn’t a sophisticated art viewer but I was awestruck. The painting dominated the room and obviously made a lasting impression. It still hangs there, in the main NGA building, and I’m still impressed with the draftsmanship and spatial organization, but now it seems almost classical and appreciably less shocking than on that first visit.

Today there is an additional NGA building, the East Wing, devoted entirely to modern art, but the Dali remains in the old NGA. Why isn’t it in the modern wing? The Dali painting is a prime example of surrealism and while Picasso and other 20th century innovators were moved to the new space Dali was not. The reason, according to TripAdvisor, is that an unnamed curator didn’t like the painting but wasn’t allowed to take it down. Instead, he located it in the “elevator room” of the main building near the cafeteria – a fun fact and minor example of how politics and intrigue also play in the art world.

The modern East Wing, designed by I.M. Pei, was finished in 1978, almost 20 years after my first visit. The design incorporated his signature glass pyramids outside (think the Louvre but smaller) and a ceiling of intersecting glass triangles that flooded the interior atrium with natural light. Two weeks ago on September 30th, after an expensive three year long renovation, the “new” East Wing reopened just in time for our arrival in Washington. The renovation maintains the building’s original footprint while reimagining and reconfiguring the space in order to display more work (from 350 to 500 permanent collection works), bring in more light, and create additional special exhibition spaces. The $69 million fixer-upper seems perfectly suited to its purpose – to display all manner of modern and contemporary art from the cubism of Braque and Picasso to the realism of Hopper and Bellows and further on to the monster blue fiberglass chicken that dominates the new sculpture terrace.

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Today, upon entering the old NGA, one is directed to descend to an underground passageway where a thoroughly modern moving sidewalk transports the visitor, almost in a time travel way, to the East Building. There, in a thoroughly modern space visitors can feast on large rooms full of  Rothko’s, Newman’s, Pollacks, Motherwell’s, and Frankenthaler’s, mobiles by Calder and sculptures by Giacometti, and adjoining the East Wing is an outdoor sculpture garden with large installations by Oldenburg and Richard Serra.

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Tired metaphor or not  – it’s hard not to feel like you’re drinking from a fire hose when visiting the National Mall. The opportunities are overwhelming, and it’s always difficult to prioritize the attractions. There are so many – monuments, museums, gardens, memorials, reflecting pools and vistas. This time we had a week, much better than the 2 or 3 days of previous visits, but still a challenge. Art was at the top of our list and we had the historic National Gallery, the new East Building, the Hirschhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, the Smithsonian Museum of American History, and the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery to choose from. We managed to cover most of them but spent the better part of two days in the newly opened East Wing. read more