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wonder what she was thinking. This was the summer of 1966. A new war in Southeast Asia had just gotten under way, and within a few months I’d enter Air Force pilot training.
    Driving home that day, I asked my mother if she remembered the day she first brought me to the airport, eighteen years earlier—the day my dream started. “Of course,” she said. “I wanted to get you out and about. I wanted you to know what was out there. But I do wish you’d kept taking your piano lessons.”

PART 2
(1966—67)
    A IR F ORCE P ILOT T RAINING

Laredo
    M Y FIRST COMMERCIAL JET trip ever was to Laredo, Texas, in October 1966 to begin my year of Air Force pilot training. Vietnam was still a small war and I hoped it would be over before I had my wings.
    I checked in on base at Laredo, then walked through a building and out to a waiting phalanx of fifteen or twenty T-38s. I started taking photographs with my nine-dollar Instamatic camera. Photo after photo—from the front, from the rear, from the side, from a forty-five-degree angle off the side. I could imagine no machine more perfect, more beautiful. Its shape shouted all my dreams of flight.
    That first night I wrote home to my parents:
    Dear Mom and Dad,
    Well, I’m settled. Have had no problems what-so-ever.
    I flew the “Whisper jet” into Atlanta and then flewon another Whisper jet into San Antonio. Boy, they are some airplanes.
    This morning when I was to leave San Antonio for Laredo, I arrived at the airport 1 hr. + 30 minutes before takeoff, instead of 30 minutes before takeoff. I had forgot to reset my watch.
    At San Antonio I met another boy also coming to Laredo and we have been buddying around together—getting clothing, uniforms, equipment, etc.
    The land is flat and there are few tall trees. The weather has been very comfortable today, however.
    I haven’t had a chance to go into town (about 5 miles away).
    I hope y’all are making it o.k. without me. I hope you don’t worry about me because I’m doing just fine. I have met several seemingly nice boys—all are friendly. I also met one of the instructors and he was very nice.
    At supper I talked to a boy who has 6 weeks to go before he’s through with his 55 weeks and he said he thinks I’ll be able to come home for Christmas. He said he has enjoyed his training, but stressed the importance of studying and not “goofing off.”
    I don’t mean to be bigheaded (and I might be speaking too soon), but after meeting some of the other guys, I think I’ll do okay.
    I also learned today that if I find I don’t like flying I can voluntarily stop on my own accord, but I think I will like it. The planes that I will fly in about 6 months (the T-38s) are simply beautiful.
    My first 2 weeks (starting next Tuesday, I think) willbe rather rough as far as physical training is concerned, but things will ease off a bit after that (so I’ve been told).
    Food is good: $ .40 breakfast, $ .85 lunch, $ .65 supper and all I can eat each meal.
    Tomorrow we are talked-to about the following: training, physical training, personnel and finance, fire prevention, medical subjects, security and law enforcement, legalities, transportation, etc.
    The chaplain talks to us Friday.
    Right now I’m rooming with another guy (he’s nice—a little fat guy. I’ve seen him only briefly) but in about a week I’ll have my own room to myself. In the room will be, among other things, refrigerator and air conditioner. One bathroom, consisting of sink, commode, and shower, is shared by every 2 rooms. Also on each floor there is a lounge with TV.
    Well, I’m very tired and will try to get some sleep now for I must get up at about 6 or 6:30 tomorrow—have meeting at 7.
    Write soon.
                                                            Love,
                                                            Clyde
    (Over)
            11:25