Dear Grandpa,
Today a couple dozen World War II aircraft buzzed the National Mall. They flew in honor of the 70th anniversary of VE Day.
You can picture the scene: you worked in DC for three decades after leaving the Pacific behind. They flew from the west over the Lincoln Memorial, past your old worksite at the White House, looking solid as they flew on towards the capitol dome.
It started just past noon. A lone airplane, crucifix-shaped, circled in advance, a herald of the formations to come. At ground level tourists and federal workers filled the humidity with their chattery lunchtime bustle. They turned their heads to the sky.
The aircraft growled low and healthy across the sky, still-powerful reminders of what your generation built, a legacy of strength, endurance, sacrifice. Ordinarily, nowadays, this airspace is restricted. Just a few weeks ago, a Florida postal worker was taken away in cuffs for landing his gyrocopter on the lawn of the capitol to deliver a letter protesting campaign finance. It’s a real shame, the restriction and the finance both.
Ben East Books 
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