May 18 – “Hurricane Hunter”

We took advantage of one of those weird, occasional Galveston tourist-y type things yesterday.  Oh, I’m not talking about Moody Gardens.  We missed the blooming of the Super Stinky Flower.  I’m not talking about The Pleasure Pier, either.  We’re saving that kind of energy expenditure for next week at Disney World.  Nope, this was one of those poorly advertised, but really cool events that we somehow stumble across every now and then. 

It started the night before when I actually remembered to check the messages on our house phone.  The Galveston Office of Emergency Management was calling.  Now that’s not necessarily a bad thing.  We weren’t being told to evacuate or anything.  Apparently it was their way of advertising something unusual that was happening at the airport. 

It is getting into hurricane season around here, and every year there is a Hurricane Awareness emphasis that the city puts on.  It is usually at the convention center and consists of lots of booths and guests from FEMA and local emergency responders.  And I imagine we will still have one of those in the weeks to come.  This one, however, topped all of that.  For there at the airport, Scholes International Airfield (So named because planes that leave the Island are automatically enter another country … Texas), were parked the Hurricane Hunter aircraft – the big boys that fly into hurricanes to get measurements.  (By the way, we learned that it was a Galveston boy who was the very first one to fly into a hurricane, back in the 40’s).  And not just them, but also a Coast Guard helicopter, the police and surf patrol boats, as well as some ambulances were there, too.  I understand that at least three of the fire department crews were a little busy at the time fighting a fire on a shrimp boat and keeping it contained.  Nice job on that, by the way.

We were allowed to go on board the Hurricane Hunter plane and even talk to the pilot and navigator.  Chris talked at length with the navigator.  She told her that they were spending the night here, then heading to New Orleans to do the same thing.  I was more fascinated with the conversation the guy in front of me was having with the pilot.  Here’s a taste of how that went:

Civilian: “So what’s your position on the plane?” (The Air Force guy looked about 18 years old)

Air Force Guy: “I used to be a navigator  but now I’m the pilot.”

Civilian: “Why did you change?”

Air Force Guy: “Because I could do it better.”

Civilian: “But doesn’t the pilot have to do what you say if you’re the navigator?”

Air Force Guy: (With a barely perceptible grin) “But he has the option to say no.”

While we were roaming around amongst the different aircraft, I saw a guy with a fire department shirt on.  I couldn’t help myself.  I had to introduce myself.  He was a retired captain out of the Austin fire department, and now works a lot with their Critical Incident Stress Management team when he’s not at his beach house in Bolivar.  He knew one of our guys, Scott Zahara.  Always great to connect with another one of the fire fighter family. 

I have to say we were duly impressed by the whole affair.  Our only regret was that it was so poorly advertised.  We would have seen to it that at least some of our grandkids could be there.  Ah, well.  Maybe next time. 

Romans 1:17 says, “For in the gospel a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: ‘The righteous will live by faith.’”

Father, thank you for the guys and girls who fly into those hurricanes and send us the information they collect.  Sure helps with our decision-making when a hurricane is looming.  Amen.