This event had special meaning for me, as my father was another pilot who participated in the airlift, one "the greatest humanitarian efforts of all times" that saved more than 2 million men, women, and children from hunger and cold.
Col. Halversen, then a young pilot, met a group of children standing by the airport watching the planes. After sharing two sticks of gum with them, he promised to drop candy the next time he flew to the area. Soon thereafter, he wiggled the wings of his plane to identify himself, then dropping several bundles of candy with parachutes made from handkerchiefs. "Uncle Wiggly Wings" inspired candy contributions from all across the country.
It was a pleasure and a privilege to meet him. Of course, it is a particular honor to be the child of a military officer and his wife who lived in post-war Germany and who have many stories to tell of themselves and their young family during that time of re-building relationships after such destruction.
Exactly one year ago, I went to Berlin for the first time and continue to be haunted and instructed by the ghosts of history--as well as inspired by the art and architecture of that great city.
And now a poem, in honor of those brave pilots and citizens of Berlin.
Hope
by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.