Time to Revisit the Past and Bring Some Light

It's been a while since I've been here and written anything. Like 17 years. Reading it today, these 'sea stories' are a part of me. Which is where this blog started... and ironically, where we are again these days. 

Right back at the beginning.  Except this time with new realizations and purpose. 

The story about "My most vivid memory aboard Towers" is why I am again back here. Only now I see more than I did back then. I've learned more than I knew back then. 

Mainly, I had no idea just how that 'vivid memory' had impacted me, and thus everyone around me for decades... that is until recently. 

It's not easy seeing people and knowing they can be rescued but not being given the chance to even try. Orders are orders and we all followed them, and I have a pretty good idea why. But the brain and the heart don't let it go. They hold that guilt close. We may box it up and work to bury it deep. But it comes back. It's corrosive and the longer you let it sit in that deep internal pit the more dangerous it becomes. 

I know more about the two U.S. Naval Aviators we lost that night than I ever thought I would thanks to the internet. I have reached out to the squadron as recently as October of last year to ask if they had a memorial wall of sorts. I was glad to hear they do, and it's in (or near) the ready room and today's pilots walk by it every day before they fly. Kevin and Chris are on that wall. Certainly, the least they deserve. 

 Liberty 603... you changed a lot of lives that night. You changed mine.

Looking back as I finally begin the healing process, I can see the many ripples of that night through the decades of my life since. It's like the darkness of that night in August 1985 stayed inside me. I knew it was there and wanted to keep it dark. 

The idea of light on those memories would be horrifically difficult to accept. Just thinking about it has always made me feel like we failed and that what happened was......well, something that bordered on negligent homicide. 

The orders were the right ones. The decision made that night (well above my pay grade) was the right one. 

But it still hurts. Kevin and Chris are still - and will forever be missing in action. 

Trying to save them from a rapidly sinking aircraft in the darkness of that night would have placed many other sailor's lives at risk, including mine. We didn't try. 

Chris and Kevin, I have carried you with me for almost 40 years. Every child, marriage, holiday, or celebration I have felt incredible guilt that you were not out there somewhere celebrating with your families. 

In our Navy days we lived in the moment. We learned lessons from our experiences, and we got better at what we did, but we continued to live in the moment and approach each day in a way that we could best own it. Carrying your moments in my life has been an honor. But you never asked me to do it. 

I struggle for the words today…. But I am getting close to the day when I finally have to say things out loud and let you go. I need my daily moments back. 

You didn’t know me that night, but I was there along with more than 300 others. About a hundred of us saw you, or the plane… and could do nothing more than watch. I hope you know we were willing to do whatever it took to get you out. We were not only willing we were ready. One move from inside the plane and the frenzied effort would have unleashed. No move came. Instead, we were ordered to leave the scene, and we did. We then watched as Liberty 603, still barely afloat slipped into the darkness of night. That darkness has remained within me for too long. 

Lt. Kevin Kuhnigk & Ens. Christopher Mimms, I mean no disrespect… but the time has come for me to turn on the light and let go.  I take comfort in a feeling that you’re good with that. 

 I look forward to having this conversation on the other side someday. 

Just know that I am terribly sorry we couldn’t bring you home.