There was also the missing-man formation. This was performed by a precision group from Georgetown that Matilda Smith, an airshow regular from Gholston, said practices and practices to get things just so. Probably wasn’t the first one these folks had ever seen, but they all got quiet and came to attention anyway, rain or no. But that was at the end.
A whole lot more was going on in the middle.
One pilot flew backward in a helicopter with smoke coming out of the back, much to the delight of the kids running about on the airfield below.
And there was Gene Armstrong, who was flying a modified Val. He flew one of the planes in the movie, “Pearl Harbor.” Everybody cheered when they heard that one.
Karen Brenkley flew her O2 (Observation 2), also known in civilian terms as a Cessna 337, back to Burnet. And a B-25 named the “Yellow Rose” dressed in camouflage was also a big hit.
Children ran up and down the runway.
And there were also moms and dads were running up and down the runway after them.
Even when the rains came there at the end and Matilda began telling all about the World War II planes, there was still a crowd.
The folks still knew what was coming and they weren’t about to leave until they’d seen what they’d come for.
They wanted to see that F-16 and they wanted to see that missing-man formation.
And it was worth it.
After about nine or 10 passes through the air, the F-16 headed back to Kelly AFB in San Antonio.
And while everyone was cleaning out their ears to see if they could still hear, the four little single-engine planes came into sight.
They climbed a little higher and one took off in another direction. The missing man.
The loudspeaker played a patriotic hymn and Jodie McInis, a 32-year-old guard at the women’s correctional unit in Gatesville. He was on duty with the Texas National Guard.
The guy on the loudspeaker said the missing-man formation signified the 3,000 combat losses in the Iraq war and the ones lost in the Sept. 11 attacks.
I saw ladies with their hands over their hearts. Teenagers too.
Little kids that had been running around with streamers had suddenly stopped in their tracks.
People who had been eating weren’t eating anymore. People who had been sitting down weren’t sitting anymore.
Mothers held their tiny babies close. And dads held the mothers closer.
The little planes silently flew out of sight. First the three in the missing man and then the one the flew off by itself.
There was a moment. Silent. Matilda cried. So did her 81-year-old friend, Henry Holt, a World War II veteran.
Oh, and Jody, the Gatesville Guardsman standing next to me that works at the women’s prison, he had tears in his eyes, too.
It was that kind of day.
lhutchinson@temple-telegram.com
