This is a wedding invitation to a classmate’s wedding forty-one years ago today. I was a saber-bearer in this military wedding at the Cadet Chapel here at the Air Force Academy.
I’ve lost contact with Don and Barb, though I have a good idea where they settled. Don was a great friend, who lost just as badly as I had in a lottery to see when we could start pilot training.
The pilot training base we were supposed to be assigned to in Georgia had closed, and the Air Force flooded the base in Oklahoma with a lot of us. Overwhelmed, the base held a lottery to see when we could start flying. About a third of us could start right away, another third could start in five and a half weeks, and another third in eleven weeks. Four of us would be left over to start in 16 weeks. Don and I drew two of those last four numbers.
We had known each other as cadet classmates at the Academy. We had worked together on some military training initiatives as his squadron was just down the stairwell from mine. But, when we arrived in Oklahoma and finally started flying, we were in the same class and flight unit in flight school, and we became better friends.
During our time in Oklahoma, we had travelled together in my car back to Colorado Springs to attend a friend’s wedding. He had told me about his intended and their desire to get married just after pilot training. The week after we received our wings, I drove back to Colorado Springs “one last time” to attend his wedding.
I have often thought about that lottery. What if I hadn’t drawn one of those last numbers and Don and I had not been in the same unit? What if that pilot training base in Georgia hadn’t closed? What if Vance Air Force Base in Oklahoma had decided to handle the overflow differently and just randomly assigned us to different start dates? Would Don still have invited me to be a saber-bearer in his wedding?
Some call this chaos theory, because the answers to those questions could have resulted in so many personal life change possibilities for me that I can’t conceptualize them all. That lottery was a big deal. Don and I serving together at that time and place was a big deal. What’s the big deal, you say?
Well, as it all turned out, Don asked me to be in his wedding on October 24, 1976. I was to be a saber-bearer. My formal dress uniform looked great with those new pilot’s wings on my chest.
Yet, the most important document pictured here was not the wedding invitation, but rather the invitation to the reception following the wedding.
It was at that reception that I asked one of Barb’s bridesmaids to go to dinner with me after the reception was over. She agreed. As we left the Officer’s Club to depart for the Springs, a couple of my classmates threw some leftover rice on us. What was that about?
We united early on the things of God. She discovered the Cadet Chapel service program on my console, and told me that she had been at that same service that morning. We were at ease with each other talking about the things of God. Hmmm.
We went to the Hungry Farmer on Garden of the Gods Road, double-dating with a senior cadet friend of mine and his fiancé. I had prime rib—what else would you have at the Hungry Farmer? I’m not sure what she had. I was too diverted to notice. Hmmm.
That was our first date—forty-one years ago today. The Hungry Farmer is long gone now. But, we’re still at it. Kathleen was that bridesmaid and we still marvel at that time which would hardly be my “last trip” to Colorado.
So, we remember you both, Don and Barb, on this your anniversary, wherever you may be. And as for me, I guess you could say I really won that lottery.