Blue Ridge Honor Flight Fall 2022, Part II: 'Tell your stories... tell your stories'

This is the second part of a three-part series on Blue Ridge Honor Flight's Fall flight for veterans to visit the war memorials in Washington, D.C. on Oct. 1. The first part was arriving at the Asheville Airport early that morning until takeoff. This second part is on the flight to Baltimore and a busy day of visiting all the war memorials. Part III, appearing in Thursday's paper and at BlueRidgeNow.com on Wednesday will be about the flight back to Asheville.

Saturday, Oct. 1, the flight to Baltimore and going to Washington

9-10 a.m.

Shortly after takeoff, we hit some turbulence on our flight from Asheville to Baltimore. I see all the heads in front of me jerking back in forth. It isn't in a violent motion, but it's enough to make me uneasy once again. The former pilot sitting next to me, Charles Toler, grins and pats me on the knee. "It's OK. Don't worry, Dean. It's all normal. This is a pretty calm flight," he said. Toler is also a Vietnam veteran, along with Paul Heflin, who is at our window seat. We talked and talked on the way to Baltimore, and it kept my mind occupied on something other than being thousands of feet in the air.

At one point, Toler, who had been on the flight before, told me what a wonderful experience it was and then asked if I had ever heard of Brothers and Sisters Like These. It all began when Asheville VA's Dr. Bruce Kelly recruited Appalachian State University Professor Joseph Bathanti, who was NC's state poet laureate. They teamed up in 2014 and began a small writing group for Vietnam veterans to write poetry to help them deal with PTSD.

"They instructed us how to write what we felt in our hearts," Heflin said. "That's where the stories began, until it became a small chat book. The writing class grew. We didn't realize how much we all had in common until we began to share our stories. There were a lot of tears shed. We spilled our guts. I know more about people in that writing class than I do my own family."

Toler, who is also a part of the group, said in 2019, Kelly formed the non-profit NC Veterans Writing Alliance Foundation, along with Brothers and Sisters Like These, to include veterans from Desert Storm as well.

10:16 a.m.

While I'm holding on for dear life to the back seat in front of me, we touch down at the Baltimore Airport. They let staff and media off the plane first, and I kinda felt bad about that. I wanted veterans to be the first off out of respect. But after I got to the terminal, I understood why. I got to set up and get the video of the veterans' reception at the airport.

It was surprisingly not crowded at all. There were a handful of greeters there and they shook every single veteran's hand that got off the plane. It was one of several times I got choked up on this trip.

10:20 a.m.

I keep waiting and watching as the veterans come out of the tunnel and into the airport, and I finally see him... Anthony "Tony" Sweat, an African American who lives in Hendersonville and served in Vietnam from 1965-69. I walked up to him and introduce myself and he begins telling his story. It's heart-wrenching.

"This is my very first Blue Ridge Honor Flight, sir," he said. "I'm a little late getting to finally do this, but better late than never. A lot of us didn't serve together, but a lot of us did serve in Vietnam. Seeing all of us together, I love it... I just love it," he said.

Sweat said he'd never been to the war memorials in Washington. He was holding back tears from the small reception at the Baltimore airport.

"This is alright.. this is alright," he said. "We are getting the attention that us Vietnam veterans felt like we deserved. You know, when I arrived back from Vietnam, a lady came up to me and said, 'You're over there killing women and babies, and you don't even have the right to vote here in America.' That stuck with me all these years."

At that moment, I wanted to give him a hug... but we shook hands instead. As we were parting ways, I kept thinking about his last name of Sweat... it's so unique.

"Mr. Sweat, I thought I'd mention this... I grew up in Oakley (East Asheville) and was good friends with an Omar Sweat. You wouldn't happen to know him, would you?" I said.

Sweat didn't say a word. He looked up to the ceiling, pulled out his cell phone and called someone. He handed the phone to me and said, "Here Dean... talk to my son, Omar."

11 a.m.-12:32 p.m.

We hop on charter buses at the airport. There are four of them, Teams Red, Blue, White and Yellow. Team Red, the bus with the Honor Flight logos, is the lead bus and the one I'm on. We make our way to our first stop, the Lincoln Memorial.

I get a text from Blue Ridge Honor Flight founder Jeff Miller. We had been texting back and forth throughout the morning. He had recent surgery and couldn't make the trip. It's just his second flight in more than 100 that he's missed, and he's hating that he's back home in Hendersonville and not with the veterans and his staff.

"You there yet?" he texted at 11:04 a.m.

"Yep. Eating lunch on the bus to Baltimore. This is so well organized... a great event," I texted back.

"Cool." he replied. "We lost our police escort down to DC but have one to come back to Baltimore and that's the most important."

After everyone piled on the bus, we are introduced to our tour guide. I only remember her first name was Lorraine, but I remember all of her powerful words. She knew everything about DC and Baltimore and also about all the war memorials. She got choked up from time to time, so you could tell she was passionate about her job.

She said she was a volunteer and loved doing the tours to honor the veterans. After every story she told about her interaction with a veteran, she always had this to say at the end: "Don't hold back. Tell your stories... tell your stories. People need to hear them, and they are also healing for you."

12:33 p.m.

We arrive at the Lincoln Memorial. There is a light rain, but it soon ended and turned into an overcast sky. All the Blue Ridge Honor Flight veterans get together on the steps in front of the Memorial, overlooking the National Mall and the Washington Monument.

After they all got together for a group photo, three ducks strolled in front of the group and just walked around, taking in the experience like all of us were. There was a short ceremony with three wreaths presented, one for World War II, one for the Korean War and one for Vietnam.

We had until 2 p.m. to get back to the bus... so that gave us a good hour and a half to visit the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Wall and the Korean War Memorial, as well as the Washington Monument. I climbed the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial and after a short visit, I made my way to the Vietnam Wall. When I got there, I saw a familiar face.

"Dean... my man. C'mon, let's go," Mr. Sweat said.

I ended up spending most of the day with him... a day I will always treasure. He was looking for a name on the wall, and by then, it was 1:39 p.m. I rushed up to the books at the entrance of the Wall, found the name, and by 1:47 p.m., we found Charles Edward Johnson on the Wall.

Sweat put his hand on the name and stood there in silent tribute. He then touched his heart and closed his eyes.

1:56 p.m.

We went over to the Korean War Memorial, and then made our way back to the bus. On the way was a small concession stand that sold hamburgers, hot dogs and other goodies. Mr. Sweat looked at his guardian and said, "Hold up. I'm hungry."

She said, "We've got just four minutes to get back to the bus... you think you have time?"

"There's always time for a hot dog," Sweat said, as we were laughing.

At 2 p.m., he got his hot dog. We got back to the bus at 2:02 p.m., and the team leader on the bus looked at us, smiling. "Just made it," he said.

2:17 p.m.

We arrive at the World War II Memorial. I got off the bus, and I waited at the long sidewalk entrance for our only World War II veteran, Foster Gooding, to get off the bus so that I could get a photo of him at the Memorial.

He never showed. As I stood there waiting, his guardian, who is his son, Kenneth, walked out of the Memorial. I said, "O man... where is he?"

He said, "He was pretty tired and asked to just stay on the bus." I understood.

I started talking with the man greeting visitors. He shook every veterans hand and said, "Thank you for your service. Welcome home."

I didn't get his name, but he did ask about Jeff Miller. He told me how Miller was first organizing the flights and had asked an airline person about chartering a flight. He said the person said, "What rock band are you chartering the flight for?"

3:42 p.m.

We arrive at the entrance of Arlington National Cemetery, one of our last stops of the day. The reality of those lost at war sinks in, as we make our way up the long, winding road and see all the gravestones. It's overwhelming.

The veterans make their way to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and arrive just in time to see the Changing of the Guard. A lone wreath has been placed in front of the tomb that has a banner on it for Blue Ridge Honor Flight. There are signs all around the Cemetery that say "SILENCE AND RESPECT." The only sounds you could hear were the footsteps of the guard as he kept watch over the tomb.

After about 45 minutes there, we hop on the bus and first stop by the Iwo Jima statue, where Marines on the bus got off and took photos. We ended our Washington stay at the Air Force Memorial, where we sat on the bus and at dinner as we looked up at the spires pointing to the sky.

7:40-7:55 p.m.

I had been texting Miller again from the Baltimore airport terminal, thanking him for the opportunity. He sends me a text back: "Can you let me know when you go wheels up in Baltimore?"

At 7:55 p.m., I text "Wheels up... blood pressure, too."

Part III, which chronicles the flight back to Asheville and the arrival at the Asheville Regional Airport, will appear in Thursday's paper and will be online Wednesday on BlueRidgeNow.com.

This article originally appeared on Hendersonville Times-News: Blue Ridge Honor Flight Fall 2022, Part II: 'Tell your stories... tell your stories'