Forty-Four Years Ago Today
It was October 22nd. Forty-four years ago, on a morning just like this one, the Texas sun cast its golden autumn light over Ellington Air Force Base near Houston. My brother Greg, a 32-year-old pilot, and his weapons systems officer in the back seat, Jerry, prepared for flight as the engines of their F-101 fighter jet roared to life. The runway stretched out before them, and with the sound of thunder, they ascended into the vast Texas sky.
But in mere moments, everything changed. The jet’s engines flamed out, and the serene landscape below was suddenly threatened by the dark shadow of disaster. Training, honed over years of dedication, told them what to do—eject! Eject and save themselves. But as the seconds ticked by, Greg and Jerry saw what lay below: a quiet neighborhood, a schoolyard filled with children, families going about their morning routines, unaware of the danger above.
They knew what ejecting would mean for those on the ground. And in those few heartbeats, faced with an unimaginable choice, Greg and Jerry chose the path of true bravery. Instead of saving themselves, they fought to guide the dying jet away from the innocent lives below, steering it into a nearby field. They gave up their chance to live in order to protect others.
In the field, the jet exploded, ending their lives but sparing the lives of countless others. Greg left behind a wife, Mary Lou, and two young children—Taylor, just two, and Grant, only four. But the echoes of that day, of that choice, still reverberate through the lives of their families and in the hearts of all who hear the story. For the people of that neighborhood, for those children who unknowingly played beneath the jet’s path, a tragedy was averted. They live on, unscathed, because of Greg and Jerry’s sacrifice.
What they did was nothing short of extraordinary. In the face of fear and finality, they chose to be selfless. To protect the innocent at the cost of their own lives. I often wonder, in a moment like that, could I have been as brave? Would I have had the strength to make the same sacrifice? I hope so.
Today, Greg's children, now in their forties, carry forward the legacy of their father’s love and courage. Their laughter, their achievements, their dreams—these are the threads of Greg’s sacrifice, woven into the fabric of their lives. And somewhere, perhaps in that same neighborhood, or a neighborhood just like it, the children and grandchildren of those who were saved that day continue to grow, blissfully unaware of how close they came to tragedy.
On a morning like this, forty-four years ago, my brother made a choice. A choice that defines what it means to be a hero. A choice that still inspires. A choice that will never be forgotten.
And though the immense grief over losing Greg all those years ago still echoes through my life, my pride in the remarkable man he was and the selfless choice he made soars as boundless as the Texas sky above.