At the VHPA Reunion

Well, my 1st day at the reunion has been really good. But those words do nothing to capture the meaning of today's events. I had the proverbial butterflies in my stomach as I approached the hotel. My friend, Joy, dropped me off at the side entrance. People wearing yellow lanyards with a name tag dangling were buzzing about the busy entranceway. I knew I was in the right place, even before I noticed the VHPA printed on the lanyards. I had to ask where the registration desk was and was directed to the 3rd floor. There the lobby was even more thickly populated with people casually glancing about the room while talking to one another and holding a beer in the other hand. Posters and flyers were posted throughout the halls and around the registration desk. One of the first things I noticed was a poster of Jane Fonda from some 80s aerobic exercise video with darts sticking in it. You kind of need to know the story to understand that. (But that is not my story) Fortunately, there was no one waiting behind me, so the girl working the desk had time to answer my (what must have seemed trivial) questions. I scanned the flyer of events and selected what I wanted to attend. Fortunately, those I selected were free. After a $70 registration fee, anything free was welcome! But I really can't complain. I was sent over to another table where a lady named Kate would print my name tag. As I was waiting in line there, another lady calling out names of people whose tags were ready, called out for Mr. Manns. Was I hearing correctly? I wondered. Being nosey, I leaned forward for a closer look at the name tag as the gentleman picked it up. Sure enough, by George (whoever that is) it was Hal Manns. He's the guy that got me into this whole thing in the first place. I say that like its a bad thing. But what I meant, is that Hal is the fellow that called me last fall. He's the one that told me about the VHPA and the reunion. He's the one that did much of the leg work for the book about the Pink Panthers. He's the REASON that I am here. And lo & behold... here he was right next to me getting his name tag right next to me. Amazing! I tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, Sir." He turned to look and I continued, "Are you Hal Manns?" Even though I knew the answer, it seemed the appropriate thing. He didn't even get a chance to answer beyond a brief nod as his jaw began to drop to say "yes", when I said, "I'm Stephan Makintaya." and his eyes warmed. We shook hands and any uncertainty about where I would go next was gone. Talk about a small world. He made sure I had his cell # and gave me the suite # for the Stickett Inn... the Pink Panther suite. Gotta love that name! Shortly after I found myself in the elevator on my way to the 37th floor. I exited the elevator, turned the corner... and just as I was looking for room numbers, I couldn't help but notice the Stickett Inn sign posted next to the door and a 4 foot tall picture of cinemas favorite fuchsia feline. That had to be it. I approached the door, steadied myself and listened for a moment. It was quiet in there. I thought that from this moment on, my life might be different. Let's see if I can put this in perspective for you... You know how when you gather with people that talk about family & friends, they share stories. "My mother did this the other day, oh and my brother... guess what he did... My Aunt is now living...."
and so on. You get the idea. Well, I can do that too, until I get to my Dad. So when it comes time to share stories, I can share with the best of them... except for my dad. There is a gaping white blank of nothing where one would find the stories of my dad. So think of this going through my mind right before I push the door open to the Stickett Inn. I expected to meet someone that knew my dad... finally. So I slowly open the door and there was no one immediately visible. I took a step inside and three or four people were to my left. Among them was Hal. Once again... he was in the right place at the right time. :-) He greeted me again and led me to this smiling fellow. Hal introduced me to Woody. Woody smiled, gave me a firm handshake and said, "I knew your dad." ....... goosebumps......

Heading Out

Its about 12:15 AM on Thursday, July 3. I'm thinking about my trip tomorrow (today). Somewhere along the way, I got a little sentimental about all those men & women that willingly go into a foreign & hostile place, so they can defend what they, and millions of their countrymen, believe... even if they don't agree with the belief. So they defend the right for man to believe what he wants. In honor of those soldiers, especially those in Vietnam, I am posting this video. Enjoy & remember.

...here we are

Yesterday I set up my blog w/ Lilo's help.  As I'm learning about the tools I will be trying things.  But at present, I'm a bit nervous.  I suspect that I will be more nervous tomorrow... you see, I will be taking a little trip......    (<--- dots are for dramatic effect)         Did it work?

Anyway... I will be going to San Antonio tomorrow.  I might actually meet somone that knew my father.  You see, I really didn't know him.  I was 3 years old when he died.  He was an Army pilot in Vietnam and crashed.  There is an association of Vietnam helicopter pilots that have an annual reunion.  It started yesterday and goes until Sunday, July 6.  I learned about it recently when I received a phone call from seemingly nowhere... a friendly fellow named Hal.  (I hope he doesn't mind my using his name).  Hal also flew in Vietnam and was looking around for survivors and family members from Vietnam Vets.  Then he found me.  Through him I learned about the association and the reunion.  I will spare you the boring details of the emails and phone calls, but suffice it to say, Hal, and others, have been very supportive and informative.  I was invited to attend.  How could I say no.  So now I will.  We will see...

It was truly stirring to experience and welcome the Solstice in with this group. I met a couple of new people, and hopefully we will see more of them very soon.

With that said....

24 hours after our celebration I returned to the spot with 2 close friends. The remaining wood was still basking on the beach. The pit was still occupied with the charred remains of the wood that served as a vehicle for our celebration. Two foil-wrapped cobs of corn saw one more day on the edge of the pit. As I reached into the sands of the pit, I discovered warm embers still struggling for air... the precious air it needs to spring to life.

As I dug and stirred a little more, faint wisps of smoke emerged and circled my face, beckoning me to stir the coals and bring life back to the fire. While my friends were unpacking the truck, I wondered if it wasn't too late...

Slowly I pulled the blackened pieces up from the suffocating sand. One by one, the deeper I reached, the warmer the pieces became. To my pleasant surprise, a few were actually too warm to handle for more than a second or two.

That made me smile. Perhaps there was hope.

Almost on cue, winds off the water turned toward me at the edge of the pit. "Was this a message?" I wondered. Who was I to deny the pit a chance to one more blaze under the sparkling canopy of Summer's second night?

I gathered kindling I had brought and carefully aligned the coals & kindling with the channel that someone dug into the pit (Kurt, I presume :-) )
My friends were unfolding lawn chairs and settling into them as I coaxed the elements of Earth & Air to bring their companion, Fire, to the pit. I promised to introduce Water later if they would provide us with one more night of light in the dark. It took some convincing... but with the help of one of Fire's cousins, Match, we were greeted by a gust of channeled air at just the right time, and shortly thereafter, the pit was dark no more.
As if jumping out and reaching into the sky, fire sprang to life. A long stretch of flame leaned toward me and licked at me briefly as if to say "Thank You" for its resurrection. I thought of the Phoenix. I thought of the Hindu. I

thought of my friends. And I thought of you.

After the fire settled into a steady rhythm, I placed the wrapped cobbed corn near the edge and waited patiently for the reborn fire to rewarm the corn. My friends thought I was a little crazy as I pulled the corn from the fire and proceeded to unwrap the first. I planned on sharing, of course, but my companions appeared a bit squeamish at the thought of eating corn that had been left exposed to the elements for 24 hours, garbed in foil, or not! I thought to myself, "More for me!"

As I disrobed the first cob and peeled back the husk, the scented warmth must have wafted toward my friends.

Their noses perked and as they observed my delight with my first bite, their apparent squeamishness was suddenly a thing of the past. I had to share, after all! :-)
All was well for the second night. The only thing that could have been better... is if you were there again!

Thank you all. I look forward to the next time we gather!

Be well!

Stephan