Mountain Turns

Mountain Turns

 She opened her eyes to the sound of seagulls calling in the distance against the beat of the pounding surf.  Rolling over on her side, she had difficulty collecting her thoughts about the day ahead.  What could she do?  How was she going to get through it?  Life had delivered hard blows to her existence. The tears began to well up again as they had the week before.  The surf kept surging and her love was gone.  The bed on the other side was as cold as the room.  She slowly reached out to lightly touch the button on the bedside table stopping the gulls.  The beach scene was gone just like her husband.

Gone.  A deep breath and Meredith Everest thought she had a whiff of salt air left over from the fog and semi-conscience state she had been in the last five minutes.  Six o’clock.  The alarm had gone off at 5:55, the Triple Nickels that Sam set for his wake up time.  Her husband was fond of those numbers which identified his flying squadron back in the day, and now they meant a lot to EM, Sam’s EM. That’s what he called her.  At 60, EM had a terrific look with short white hair styled for her athletic build. She could still move very well. Was this a bad dream?  No, tomorrow had turned into today and EM saw the day as, well, so pivotal.  She told herself yesterday that she had wept enough.  Sam told her it would take time.  She loved that about him, always caring about the possibilities.  He seemed to know.  He knew this day was coming when he wasn't going to be there for her. In their younger days he sang to her.

 Ooh-oo child                                         
Things are gonna get easier,

Ooh-oo child

Things'll get brighter

Was it Salt?  No, it’s coffee.  Could her senses be that skewed?  Another deep breath and EM rose up and padded down the stairs toward the kitchen.  The aroma of Red Leaf Maple Tap coffee awakened the chemicals in her nervous system.  Sam loved to get the coffee ready the night before.  That hasn't changed.  He was never late for work that guy.  She had remembered to set the timer. The floor was cold and EM poured herself a mug of sweet blackness.  It was comforting, like the verses she had read yesterday about joy coming in the morning.  She touched her smart phone and there it was again, bold, bright, and clear as ever, Psalm 30.  I need to commit that to memory.  That’s what Sam did.  That’s what Sam would want.  She laughed. Oh gosh!  She actually smiled.  Was that a prayer answer?  Her thinking seemed clearer today.

EM began thumbing through the mail on the table.  There was a packet of seeds for sunflowers and Impatiens, and a large box that looked like it belonged under a Christmas tree addressed to Major Samuel A. Everest.   That’s really odd. They got his rank wrong and his middle initial. She didn't have the will to open the box yesterday, but she felt energy coming back into her body. She used a kitchen knife and opened the box. She squinted.  The package was a Happy Light for SAD.  “What? Seasonal Affect Disorder! Sam, you've got to be kidding me.”  She said it out loud, continuing, “I love you so much, I know you didn't do this to be cruel.  You just wanted to shake me.”  She added, “Well, you did.”  EM opened the package and plugged the unit in the wall.  Suddenly the kitchen table lit with a brilliant outdoor light so she closed her eyes to take in the glow.  “Thank you Sam.”  She slowly opened her eyes and remembered how Sam reveled in the light that bounced off the clouds when they flew the Cessna together, high above the earth.  It was so peaceful up there, so beautiful and majestic.  The space made your mind soar and your spirits lift.  So now he was up there, and EM, well she had this light, a Psalm, and memories. She got up and poured another hot cup and noticed for the first time that it had snowed last night.  A nuthatch was climbing up the tree off the deck.  EM felt the chill.  She went back to feel the warmth of the light and paged through a seed catalog that came in the mail.

EM’s phone chimed and she looked at the caller ID.  It was Samuel Everest, bold as ever.  Her heart skipped a beat!  She swiped the phone with her hands shaking. “Sam?” she answered hesitantly.  “Hello lovely lady, how did you sleep last night?”  The voice was soft and assuring.  Startled EM said “I’m sorry, who is this?” The man’s heart sunk.  “Mom it’s me your son, Sam. Are you all right? I’m calling to let you know that we’ll be there this afternoon, we got a flight out of Colorado Springs.”  EM had to brace herself against the table and her eyes wondered around the room, lost for a moment.  She reoriented herself and finally said, “Oh, Hi Sammy, how are you?  Yes, I’m alright. I just got up. I just opened a present from your father.”  Somewhat dumbfounded Sam then responded with care, “Mom?”  “No, really a package came yesterday.”  Sam’s Mom explained. “It’s one of those lights you put on to lift your spirits in the winter weather.”  Sam tried to keep the conversation casual.  “I saw the weather report, snow today.” “Just a bit of dust so far.” EM said.  “Are you going to visit soon?” Sam tried to be patient. “We’ll be there in about 5 hours Mom.”  “Oh good, are you going to bring your friend with you?” These phone conversations were difficult.  “Yes.  Mom, I have to go now, our flights about to leave.  I love you.”  “I love you too honey, see you soon then.”  EM was transfixed on the light in front of her. What was going on?

It was said that Major Samuel Adam Everest was a mountain of a man.  His squadron frequently made a joke about his name. They flew F-15 E Strike Eagles out of Nellis AFB. The aviator had a stout 6’ 1” frame with a muscular build for battling the G-forces of his office.  His sandy blonde was cut closer than regulation.   His coworkers however had not known his real hero, Dad.   Lt. Col.  S. J. Everest Sr. was awarded the Air Force Distinguished Service Medal, the Airman's Medal, and the Purple Heart.  On his last flying mission, Sam and his wing-man Capt. Bill Peters were shot down over North Vietnam.  Both men ejected from their cockpits.  Sam stayed with Bill for three days after recovering him in the dense jungle, but Bill died of his injuries.   He evaded the enemy for 3 weeks before his captured by the Viet Cong and Capt. Everest was a POW for 10 months.  He endured things that he would only talk about with several people.  Capt. Everest was rescued by a CIA supported elite team of French freedom fighters that had tracked his whereabouts having maintained a clandestine operation there for nearly 15 years.  Capt. Everest was brought back undercover without fanfare in order to protect the ongoing operation in North Vietnam.  After debriefing and medical care, he spent the rest of his career as an adviser between Air University at Maxwell AFB, Alabama and the Pentagon in Washington D.C.  Few knew his story. 

 The guys didn't know the real “Mountain”.  Sam Jr. closed his phone as their flight number was being called.  He looked at Jill, his wife of eight years and their two children Samantha 7 and James 4. They had met in Colorado Springs when Sam was at the Academy.  Jill had grown up in an Air Force family too.  Sam thought, so much to do now. He was going to have to climb these mountains instead of flying over them.  He had to take leave and figure things out.  Care needed to be arranged for Mom.  He wished he lived closer.  He wished the light he ordered had not been delivered so quickly.  He thought he would beat it there.  He didn't mean to confuse her.  His Mom’s dementia seemed to be getting worse.  It would be so hard for her to leave the house and bring her to Nevada.  But what else could he do?  Most of her friends were in Beaver Creek, Ohio.  He could try to get a transfer to Wright Patterson but there he would have to fly a desk. Jill put her hand in his and saw the anguish in his eyes.  “Honey, it’s time to board.”  “Yes, it is,” Sam said, “Yes it is.”

Seated next to his daughter in coach, with Jill across the aisle with James, Sam stared out the window at billowing clouds ominously passing by.  He wished that he had control of the aircraft.  He needed to fly.  Transfer was out of the question.  He thought about his flights with Dad, how much fun they had together, and how much they both loved his Mom and flying.  He closed his eyes with Samantha’s head on his chest fast asleep and he felt the minimal G-force as the pilot turned the craft east towards Mom. 

Landing in Dayton, Ohio four and half hours later, the Everest family headed over to luggage and car rental.  He remembered that he had promised the kids to take them to the National Museum of the United States Air Force the next time they visited grandma.  He would have to make it up to them or maybe Mom would want to go and he could get a better gauge of how she was really doing.  Sam wanted to show the kids their grandpa’s aircraft he flew in Vietnam.  The museum had a stellar display of the F-4 Phantom, and the fighter and reconnaissance missions that Capt. Sam Everest Sr. flew.  Sam’s hero and best friend was gone now for three years losing his battle with lung cancer that had metastasized to his brain. His war injuries caused him to have an aversion to medical doctors mostly because they kept you from flying.  When you were DNIF; duty not to include flying, you wondered when the last day would be when you could no longer climb into the cockpit.  It was something no pilot ever wanted to think about. On his return from the war, he was hoping to get a training instructor assignment but it never panned out. So when he finally retired he missed his annual checks.  He was great at checking his six, but when it came to twelve o’clock high he was always checking everyone else instead of his own.  He had lost his wing-man. Shoot, why couldn't he see that his families’ best asset was himself. Why did he have to leave this life so early?

Sam dialed his Mom’s cell and prayed. God, help me to do the right thing, help Mom to be ok!  The phone picked up. “Hello Sam, this is Margaret.”  Margaret was Bill Peter’s widow.  Their families were indelibly bonded together.  “Oh hi Margaret, is everything ok?  May I speak to Mom?”  “Sam, I just got here to check on EM and she’s not here!  The car is here and the back door is open.  There are some tracks leading out to the back woods so I’m heading out there now.”  Sam said, “We just landed. I’ll be there in 30 minutes, please Margaret go find her!” Margaret Peters was way ahead of him. “I’m on it Sam, don’t worry, the tracks are fresh.” Sam urged her on.  “Go Margaret go. See you soon!” 

Sam gathered his family quickly and told Jill about Mom.  He implored the rental car lady to hurry it up, this was urgent.  Margaret was EM’s best friend in life. They attended the same church and had reached out to many spouses of military families who were making huge sacrifices to serve their country.  Margaret was the first person to alert Sam about the changes that EM was going through.  EM had been there for Margaret during the most difficult days of her life. She was Margaret’s wing-man.

 The rental car company gave the Everest’s a black Camaro. The drive took 12 minutes despite the slippery conditions.  He was not worried about his speed.  The fighter pilot never is in order to meet his objective.  The kids were having fun.  The garage door was open and Margaret’s car was in the driveway.  Sam was first to hit the door calling, “Mom! “ They were not there.  Sam told Jill and the kids to stay in the house and he ran through the back door into the woods following the two footprints in the snow.  It was a clear sunny crisp afternoon, 25 degrees F. and 3 inches of new powdered snow.  Sam saw the pine trees fly by. 

Margaret had tracked EM’s footsteps out about 500 yards down the back trail to the vista overlooking the flight line at Wright Patterson.  EM had a sweater on and no boots.  Margaret wrapped her coat around EM and they both watched a C-141 land softly on the strip.  They embraced for a long while and didn't say a word.  There was no need to talk.  Finally with tears in her eyes EM said, “I didn't know it would be this hard.” Sam came upon them in 3 minutes.  He saw these two brave women and stopped to assess the situation.  He walked slowly behind them and looked out over the airfield. He finally interrupted and the ladies turned around to see the relief on his face.  “Mom, what are you doing out here?  Where are your boots?”  Seeing her son smiling with the sun gleaming in his eyes, EM replied, “I could ask you the same thing, coatless and bootless son!”  Sam embraced them both and then the three finally felt the chill in the wind and laughed all the way back to the house. 

 EM’s cheeks were rosy red from her sojourn out to the woods.  Margaret brewed some tea and hot chocolate and looked at Sam to give him a reassuring nod.  EM embraced Jill and both were getting reacquainted.  Sam joined the hug fest.  EM looked down at her grand kids and said, “Hello my little darlings, I was thinking we could plant some sunflower seeds so this beautiful light doesn't go to waste.  Then I was hoping we could all go and see your grandpa’s jet.”  Jill looked at Sam and their hands touched.  On the banister which overlooked the living room there was a triangular shadow box that held the blue field with stars to commemorate the life of Sam’s hero.  Sam wanted to etch this scene into his memory. He whispered a quick prayer, Thank you God for taking care of my Mom.  He squeezed Jill’s hand and they both walked over to Margaret while EM busied herself with the kids. Sam said “Margaret, we would love for you to come with us to the National Museum.  “I wouldn't miss it for the world.”  Margaret said.  “EM is my wing-man.”  Sam acknowledged with a smile.  EM overheard the wing man comment and said, “Sammy, we’re taking turns.”

The End