17 December 1988 – Pope Air Force Base, North Carolina

Jeff stood in the Space-Available waiting area at Pope Air Force Base, which borders Fort Bragg. The crew of a C-5 cargo plane on the ramp loaded a plastic-wrapped pallet through the maw under the aircraft’s nose as he watched. Jeff wore his Class-A uniform today, which was unusual for him when visiting Pope; his usual uniform on flights out of Pope was BDUs. Of course, he jumped out of those aircraft.

“Private,” someone asked from behind him, “are you the soldier looking to fly to Westover Air Force Base this morning?”

Jeff turned from the windows. An attractive blonde in a flight suit stood there, looking at him. Her flight suit bore silver oak leaves on the shoulders, and her nameplate read ‘Lt. Col. DONNELLY.’

“Yes, Ma’am!” he barked, coming to attention.

“At ease, trooper,” she replied with a smile. “Grab your gear and come with me.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he repeated, this time at a lower volume. He hustled to collect his duffel bag.

Colonel Donnelly led Jeff onto the tarmac and toward the C-5. He fought the urge to put his beret back on because you don’t wear covers on the flight line. Loose objects get sucked into engine intakes. This generates much hate and discontent among the aircraft mechanics and is not a good way to get noticed.

The colonel showed him where to drop his gear when they stepped onto the plane. She walked over to her crew chief. He nodded at whatever she told him, and then came over to grab Jeff’s duffel.

“I’ll stow this for you, Private,” he told Jeff. “You follow the Colonel.”

“Yes, Sergeant!”

Jeff hustled so the colonel wouldn’t have to wait for him. She motioned for him to follow her. It was hard work climbing a ladder while trying NOT to look at the colonel’s backside in her flight suit. He soon stood on the plane’s flight deck.

“You’re our only passenger, Private, so it doesn’t make sense to have you sit in the aft seating area all by yourself. You’ll have a headset to listen to things and someone else to talk to, sitting up here.” She smiled at him again.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I appreciate it.”

“We’ve got about fifteen minutes of pre-flight, and then we’ll be off. Hang your uniform blouse in that corner there with our jackets. You’ll be warm enough up here without it, and it won’t get wrinkled that way. We’ll get you on comms before we lift, so get yourself strapped in at the navigator’s station,” She motioned to the station behind him. “There’s no navigator on this flight.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Thank you.”

Jeff noticed another headset like the flight crew wore hanging from a strap on the console. He figured out how and where to plug in. Jeff heard the flight crew going through their checklists; he remained quiet so he wouldn’t annoy the officers doing their jobs. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of a daydream. He pulled off the headset and turned.

“You got yourself on comms already?” the co-pilot asked. The captain double-checked the radio interface Jeff connected to was set to the inter-crew communications channel and for voice activation.

“Yes, Sir. It seemed straightforward.”

“Good deal, Private. We get trainee pilots who can’t figure it out, so it’s nice to get a problem-solver once in a while.” The captain turned back to the colonel. “Ready to go, Ma’am.”

“Roger.” Colonel Donnelly put her headset back on. “Pope Tower, Victor Zero-Three requesting permission to taxi.”

“Victor Zero-Three, take Taxiway Alpha to Runway Two-Three and hold short of the active,” came the reply from the tower.

“Roger, Tower. Alpha to Two-Three and hold short. Victor Zero-Three is rolling.”

Five minutes later, they were in the dark, early morning air heading northeast. Jeff felt the flight deck relax after another five minutes of climbing and course adjustments.

“So, Private First Class Knox comma Jeffrey Andrew?” Colonel Donnelly’s voice asked through the headset. “What gets you to the Space-A waiting area at zero-dark-thirty in hopes of catching a ride on a cargo flight headed to an Air Force Base in western Massachusetts two and a half hours later?”

“My family’s annual Christmas party is this afternoon, Ma’am. I’m trying to surprise them. No one knows I’m coming home.”

“Ambitious,” she muttered, looking over her shoulder at him. “Where’s the party?”

“Dana, Ma’am. It’s about twenty miles east of Westover.”

“I’m originally from Greenwich, trooper. I know where Dana is.” She looked back over her shoulder again, giving him a friendly smile. “Is that where you’re from?”

“Almost, Ma’am. I’m from Enfield. My cousin hosts the party at her house in Dana every year. Most people expect me to have that accent when they learn I’m from Massachusetts. It doesn’t matter that I grew up about one hundred miles from Beantown. I mean, who calls Boston that, anyway?”

He chuckled. “There ah times, ya know, when I can turn on that wicked pissah accent an’ drive people frikken crazy when I ask ‘em tah go out tah my cah an’ grab the beeahs I gaht at the packie. I sound like a wicked Masshole when I wanna.” Jeff coughed. “Um, pardon my language, Ma’am.”

The flight deck broke out in laughter. “Hell, trooper, that was perfect!”

The four-hour flight passed before Jeff knew it. The flight crew engaged Jeff in a discussion of the book he brought with him, Tom Clancy’s Red Storm Rising. The debate over the book’s accuracy and the overall premise was quite interesting. Jeff felt the officers listened to and considered his comments and opinions, and offered thoughtful counter-points. Jeff had studied military hardware and capabilities for some time, which helped him present strong arguments.

The landing at Westover was an unremarkable one. The aircraft soon taxied to its assigned spot on the ramps. Jeff shrugged into his blouse when the plane came to a stop and got himself squared away. He made his way down to the cargo deck and found his duffel. Colonel Donnelly approached him while he collected his gear.

“Come on with me, Private. I’ll escort you over to the Space-A waiting area here.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“How are you getting to Dana?” she asked him as they made their across the tarmac. She waved off his offer to carry one of her bags for her.

“Since I’m apparently too young to rent a car, I’ve made arrangements with a car service, Ma’am. The service said to call from the waiting area if the car’s not already here. It’ll only be a twenty-minute wait in that case. Their drivers are cleared to come on-base.”

They entered the waiting area and Jeff immediately spotted the payphones. Colonel Donnelly appeared to be looking for something or someone, so he stuck close.

“Private, my daughter’s supposed to be meeting me here to drive us home, but she hasn’t arrived yet. Would you watch my large bag while I take this one and clean up?”

“Of course, Ma’am. I’m going over there to call the car service, and then I’ll be in those seats there. Do you want me to watch for your daughter while I wait, Ma’am? In case you’re not out before she arrives?”

“Thank you, Private,” she replied with another genuine smile. She withdrew a picture from her flight suit and showed it to Jeff. “Here’s what Heather looks like. She’s a little taller than I am.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jeff muttered before Colonel Donnelly put the photo away. Heather Donnelly’s image burned itself into his brain. The young woman in the photo was even more beautiful than her mother.

’Wow!’

Jeff got to the phone – without hurting himself – and dialed the number of the car service. A short, disappointing conversation later, he made his way back to the seats where he dropped the bags. Heather Donnelly’s picture caused the fog he’d been in on his way to the phones. Returning to his seat, it was due to the car service canceling on him.

The driver, the service’s owner who’d been covering for another employee, wasn’t coming. He’d been in a serious accident after leaving the garage and had been taken to the trauma center in Springfield. The dispatcher – the owner’s wife – tearfully apologized to Jeff for leaving him stranded. He hung up after expressing his sympathies to the distraught woman.

Jeff dropped back into his seat. His grand scheme for today was coming undone. While Jeff looked around in disbelief, the front door opened and a beautiful, young, blonde woman entered. Heather Donnelly had arrived. Jeff pulled himself out of his seat and intercepted the young woman.

“Excuse me? Miss Donnelly?”

Heather Donnelly stopped and regarded the young soldier. The dark green of his Army uniform was out of place compared to the colors she was accustomed to on an Air Force Base. The Air Force wore uniforms of sage or blue. Most of the soldier’s dark hair was shaved off, leaving only an airborne-approved ‘high-and-tight.’ His blue eyes were fixed on her green ones, and weren’t raking up and down her body. There was no sign of the arrogant sneers she’d become accustomed to seeing around Amherst. He had a respectful tone in his voice and addressed her as someone who’d been taught proper manners.

“Yes? Private ‘Knox’ is it?” she replied, reading his last name off his Class-A nameplate.

“Yes, Miss Donnelly. Your mother asked me to watch for you while she cleans up.” Jeff motioned to the bag next to his. “Her bag is here, as you can see. Would you care to sit? I was about to get something to drink from the machines over there. Would you like something?”

Heather smiled at the earnest young man in front of her. She sensed a genuine, friendly vibe from him. Her drive from Amherst had been slow and difficult due to the snow squalls she encountered on the way.

“Yes, please. Thank you. If they have something resembling hot chocolate?”

Jeff nodded and walked off to accomplish that task. Jeff made his way back to the chairs after collecting the beverages. He managed not to spill either her hot chocolate or his coffee.

Heather Donnelly was even easier to talk to than her mother, and not just because she wasn’t a senior officer. She was one of those rare women he didn’t already know that he could talk to right away. Either that or his high school relationships with Pauline and Allison had helped get him past his lingering shyness. Heather learned that his ride to Dana fell through and that he hadn’t yet made alternate plans.

“We’re headed home to my grandparents’ place in Greenwich; we can drop you off on the way,” Heather stated with finality.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Miss Donnelly,” Jeff protested. “Your drive home is family time; I’d be intruding on that. Plus, Dana’s not really ‘on the way’ to Greenwich.”

“First off, I told you earlier that my name is ‘Heather,’ not ‘Miss Donnelly.’ I’m barely a year older than you are, thank you very much. Second, you didn’t ask, I offered. Third, it’s not negotiable. You came all this way to surprise your family and we’re going to make sure that happens.”

“You best do what she says, Private,” Jeff heard from his left. He tried to come to attention, but Colonel Donnelly waved him back into his seat. “Heather’s even more stubborn than I am at times. You mentioned your cousin’s house is just off of Route 21 in North Dana, right?” Jeff nodded. “And the party starts at thirteen-hundred?” Another nod. “Then let’s get moving!”

The colonel insisted that Jeff sit in the front of the SUV with Heather. The colonel stretched out across the back seat and was asleep before they drove through the base’s main gate.

Jeff learned Heather was studying history at UMass, and that her goal was to become a history professor. She was also minoring in Spanish.

’This girl is scary smart,’ he thought to himself, ’and beautiful, funny, sarcastic... ‘ He was intrigued.

Heather found that Jeff was able to keep up with her in a conversation about history. Most people her age she met were unable to do that. She could see that Jeff loved history as much as she did. He’d educated himself very well despite ‘just’ being a soldier. Heather frowned when he referred to himself in that way, even if it was in jest. Her Grampy Cavanaugh, her mom’s dad, served as a soldier for many years. Heather thought the world of him. Both were much more than ‘just’ soldiers.

They approached Dana and the end of their ride together. Their conversation dropped off while Jeff guided Heather to his cousin’s house. It was only minutes before the 1300 start time when they pulled in front of the house. Jeff saw his Uncle Fred’s car already in the driveway. The man was more than punctual; Jeff was sure he’d already been there thirty minutes.

“Well,” Heather said sadly when she pulled to the side of Doubleday Village Road, “here you are.”

“Yeah,” Jeff replied in the same manner. He had a thought, and his mood brightened. “Hey, do you and your mother want to come in? To stretch your legs and maybe have a quick bite before you head home?”

Heather brightened, too, and turned to look at her mother. “Can we, Mom? Can we?”

Jane Donnelly smiled as she shook her head in amusement. She didn’t see her twenty-year-old daughter asking that question, but the pig-tailed six-year-old she’d once been. Jane knew she couldn’t say no.

Monica Sellers wiped her hands on a dishtowel while she approached her front door. She was surprised that whoever it was bothered to knock; family knew just to walk in on days like this.

Monica opened the door to find someone in an Army uniform standing on the front stairs, facing away from her. Two women standing at the bottom of the stairs looked up toward the soldier. Monica could tell that the two women were related.

“May I help you?”

“Hey, Mon,” Jeff said in an exaggerated Jamaican accent while he turned. This was a long-standing joke between his older cousin and him. Monica smiled as she stepped out of her house to hug the much taller man.

“You and your surprises are going to be the death of someone, one of these days,” she chided him. “I’m voting for it to be you, you troublemaker.”

“Gotta keep people on their toes, Mon. Monica, I’d like to introduce you to Heather Donnelly and her mother, Lieutenant Colonel Jane Donnelly. Heather, Colonel, this is my cousin Monica Sellers, our host for today. Mon, the ladies gave me a ride here from Westover. I offered them something to eat and drink if that’s okay?”

“You think we’re ever in danger of running out of either in this family? You ladies are more than welcome to come in. This guy? I think I’ll make this guy stand out here for an hour or two.”

Jeff smiled and held the door for the women while they entered. He collected their coats and passed them to Monica when she held her hands out for them.

“I’ll run these upstairs while you go say hi to your aunts and cousins.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“All the aunts are in the kitchen, where else? Go on.”

Jeff led the Donnellys through the house to the kitchen. He startled his aunts when he appeared in the doorway. He put a finger to his lips, nodding at the woman at the stove.

“Who was at the door, Monica?” that woman asked while she continued to stir a pot of something.

“I know I’ve been gone a while, Aunnie Marawin, but I don’t think I look all that much like your daughter,” Jeff replied, stepping into the room. His Aunt Marilyn dropped her spoon and rushed over, a smile on her face.

“Jeffy! Oh, come here!”

As his mother’s oldest sister, Jeff spent many a sick day with Marilyn Burlingame when he was younger. The two had a special bond, though he loved all of his aunts. Marilyn joked he was her oldest grandkid. ‘Aunnie Marawin’ was how he pronounced her name when he was little. His four other aunts came over to join the hug, and the noise level in the kitchen rose.

“Ladies, I’d like you to meet the two women responsible for getting me here today.” He pointed out the two women just inside the door. “Lieutenant Colonel Jane Donnelly was the pilot of my flight from North Carolina to Westover this morning. Her daughter, Heather, offered me a ride here when my transportation from Chicopee fell through. Ladies, allow me to introduce my mother’s sisters: my aunts Marilyn, Carolyn, Gwendolyn, Jerilyn, and Ashlyn.” The Donnellys both raised eyebrows. “Yeah, Grandma and Grandpa have a sense of humor.”

“What’s your mom’s name, Jeff?” Heather asked.

“Marisa.”

Heather just stared at him.

“We used to call her ‘Marisalyn’ growing up,” his Aunt Jeri explained.

“It sounds like there’s a bit more to that story,” Jane remarked.

“There is, but that’s a story for another time,” Marilyn commented. “Would you ladies like something to drink?”

“Where are Grandma and Grandpa?” Jeff asked when he received his requested soda.

“Grandpa’s holding court in the sunroom, as usual,” Monica replied. “Grandma’s flitting around here somewhere, as usual.”

“You and Heather go ahead, Jeff,” Jane said. “I’ll stay here and chat with your aunts some more.”

Jeff nodded and escorted Heather out of the room, and through the rapidly filling house. Her head spun trying to keep the names of all Jeff’s cousins straight.

“Wait until all of the aunts’ kids start having kids,” he warned her. “Thanksgiving and Christmas will be nuts!”

They finally reached the sunroom. Grandpa Keiolis sat in a recliner pontificating to his sons-in-law on some subject. He clapped happily and sprang from the chair when he saw his grandson. He slapped Jeff on the back over and over during their hug.

“Jeff! I didn’t know you were coming today!”

“That’s okay, Grandpa, neither did anyone else.”

“You and your surprises,” Nick said, shaking his head. “One of your last surprises nearly bit you in the ass, boy.”

“You’re right, Grandpa, but things are better now. Speaking of good things, let me introduce you to a friend of mine.” He held out his hand to Heather who stepped closer. “Grandpa, this is Heather Donnelly from Greenwich. She and her mom gave me a ride here from Westover. Heather, this is mom’s dad, Nickolas Keiolis.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Sir.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Donnelly.” Nick kissed the back of her outstretched hand, causing Heather to blush. “You should get rid of this whippersnapper and let a real gentleman show you how he treats a lady.”

“How’s that going to work out for you when Grandma hears about that, you wolf? You’ve got your own girl, now leave mine alone.” His grandfather laughed while Jeff noticed his family’s car pull up to the house. “Looks like it’s showtime, Grandpa.”

Nick turned to see his youngest and her family walking up to the house. He patted Jeff on the arm. Jeff held his hand out to Heather and led her to the front of the house. Monica positioned her and Jane on the opposite side of the entry hall to draw his family’s attention while Jeff ducked behind the door.

“Hi, Aunt Marisa! Merry Christmas!”

“Hi, Monica! Merry Christmas to you!”

“Thanks. Hi, Uncle Joe, Kara. Merry Christmas. I’d like to introduce you guys to Jane and Heather Donnelly from Greenwich; one of our family members brought them here as guests today.”

“Who’s that?” Marisa asked.

“Me,” Jeff said when he stepped into view. “Can I take your coats for you?”

Kara’s head whipped around and she leaped at her brother.

“JEFF!”

Marisa’s head turned slower. Tears formed in her eyes while a hand covered her mouth. She began to sob. Jeff released Kara and drew his mother into a hug.

“Hi, Mom.”

“You big stinker! ‘I can’t get leave this year.’ You’re so full of it!”

“Until about five days ago, I couldn’t. The guy granted leave this week caught a fifteen-day barracks restriction last week, so they canceled his leave and my lieutenant offered it to me instead. I don’t have to go back until after New Year’s. I had to scramble a little to make it work, and the Colonel and Heather helped me out big time today.”

“Leave it to you to fall into a pile and come up smelling like roses, Jeff,” his dad remarked as he stood next to Heather and Jane. “The Colonel’s been filling me in on your day.”

“Since you guys are right here, you can be first through the line for the food,” Monica said.

“Did Grandpa get his plate already?” Kara asked.

“Yep, just brought it to him. Go ahead.”

Jeff escorted Heather into the dining room. He pointed out his family’s favorite dishes and his personal ones. They found seats on a couch in the living room once their plates were full. Jeff ate while Heather and Kara talked, getting acquainted.

“So what’s all that new stuff on your uniform, Jeff?” his sister asked at one point.

Jeff looked down and started pointing out various items. “That’s my EIB – the Expert Infantryman’s Badge, the ribbons haven’t changed since June, jump wings are the same. I’m shooting Expert with both the rifle and pistol now, so I got rid of the other marksmanship badge I had. Not too much different, I just rearranged things a little, that’s all. Anyway, how did your first semester at MassArt go?”

“Not bad.” Kara studied Graphic Design at the Massachusetts College of Art. “It’s a bit of a culture shock with all the people who live in Boston after growing up here. Visiting a city is one thing, living in it’s quite another.”

“Yeah, Bragg’s got about thirty-five thousand of us there. You add the training areas and I think the valley would fit inside the base two or three times. It’s a little strange.”

“And you’ve had no more trouble there?” Kara referred to his legal issues after her graduation.

“No, no issues.”

“You only have to go as far as Amherst for culture shock, guys,” Heather chimed in. “Even the size of Valley Regional High School didn’t prepare me for how many people are at UMass when I got there two years ago.”

“Speaking of school, how are your classes going, Jeff?” Kara asked.

“Good,” he mumbled with his mouth full. He swallowed his food. “Sorry. They’re going well. I’m about three-quarters of the way through junior year. The Army’s been kind enough not to interrupt my schedule with deployments.”

“Wait, you’re already a junior?” Heather asked. “I thought you graduated in ‘87? A year after I did?”

“I did. Most of my senior year classes were AP classes. The college gave me credit for all that and placed me into my sophomore year right away. It’s a correspondence school, so they send me the next module of classes once I return one. I don’t go off-base much and just crank through the work. The guys call me ‘Professor.’”

“Tell her how many languages you speak, too,” Kara added with a grin.

“How many?” Heather asked him.

“Three.”

“Three? Three including English?”

“I guess it would be four, then.” Heather stared at him. “English, French, Spanish, Japanese,” he counted off.

“Japanese?”

“Hai! My roommate grew up speaking it. He’s been teaching me.”

“Don’t be too impressed, Heather. He probably only knows the swear words.”

“Shaddap, kid.”

“Jane, can I get you some more wine?” Marisa asked.

“No, thanks, Marisa. I limit myself to a glass a night when I do drink, and I’ve already had three this afternoon. You’ll have to pour me into the car if I have another. May I have some water?”

“Of course.”

“Jane, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m surprised you and Heather have been here this long. Doesn’t that fall under ‘fraternization?’” Joe asked.

“What’s that?” Marisa asked as she returned with Jane’s water.

“The military insists on a strict separation between officers like me and enlisted personnel like Jeff, Marisa. That’s why I’ve been over here today while the kids are over there. I’m hanging out with you guys, not Jeff. He’s hanging out with Heather. There shouldn’t be a problem. Your family’s made us feel right at home. Mom and Dad understand why we’ve been here so long.”

“Your daughter seems to have hit it off with our son,” Joe remarked while nodding toward the couch.

The young couple in question sat on the couch together. Jeff had his arm around Heather while they laughed about something. Heather leaned back into him, looking very comfortable.

“I’ve never seen her warm up to someone that fast, Joe. Your son is a remarkable young man. I’ve been impressed with him since we met this morning.”

“Thanks, Jane. So you called your parents?”

“Yes, thank you. Mom found it amusing that we got waylaid at a party. Heather and I aren’t exactly party animals.”

“You said you’re from Greenwich? Who are your parents?”

“Alice and Tom Cavanaugh.”

“Do they live on East Street?” Jane nodded, sipping her water. “Your folks are customers of mine! I own Valley Automotive on 21 in Enfield! Does Jeff know who your dad is?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Joe smiled. “How would you like to help us get a little payback on our son?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, here’s what I’m thinking...”

The flurries Heather encountered earlier in the day had returned, leaving a dusting of snow blowing across the pavement an hour later. The light flakes stuck to Heather’s hair while Jeff walked the Donnellys out to their car. He didn’t think Heather could look any more beautiful. He was wrong.

“Would it be okay if I called you while you’re home on break?” Jeff asked Heather as they stood on the side of the road.

“I’d like that,” the young blonde said with a big smile.

Heather gave the tall, young paratrooper her phone number, a hug, and a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing behind the wheel. Jeff turned to the colonel. She stood next to the rear quarter of their vehicle, smiling at the scene.

“I didn’t think of this before, Ma’am, but is this going to cause you any problems?” Jeff asked.

“No, Jeff,” Jane smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Our giving you a ride home, even hanging out here with your family, won’t be a problem. And, before you ask, I don’t have a problem with you going out with Heather, either.”

“Are you sure, Ma’am? Your daughter’s a special young woman. I’m just a soldier and...”

“Private!” she snapped in an angry tone, cutting him off. “DON’T let me hear you say that about yourself again, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” he barked, snapping to attention. “AIRBORNE!”

“I expect to see you at my parents’ house for dinner sometime next week, before Christmas. Clear?”

“Crystal, Ma’am,” Jeff replied, saluting. “Good night, Ma’am.”

“Good night, Jeff,” Jane answered, returning the salute. “We’ll see you next week.”