Today has been a sad day for the Strike Eagle community, as word quickly spread that a pilot lost his life in a crash yesterday while on deployment.
I don't know him personally, though the community is small and we have many mutual friends.
I know that there is a 4 year old boy and a 2 year old girl who will grow up without their daddy. I know that there is a wife who recently said goodbye to her husband, much the way I did to mine in September, who never expected that he wouldn't be coming home. And there is a squadron from Idaho that has to stay the course for the next 6 months while knowing that the "welcome home" at the end will be very bittersweet indeed.
The F-15E community will come together for the family. There will be scholarship funds for the kids and meals that arrive to their kitchen. But their lives will never be the same again.
There is a house I can see out of my window where this family used to live, and there is another home around the corner in our neighborhood where a few years ago yet another wife received that dreaded knock on the door.
Most of the time I don't think about what Josh does as being dangerous.
But on days like these I remember.