I don't get a chance to talk about him nearly enough -- or usually choose not to -- but even after a couple of years it's hard not to remember my boy, Riley, on this day. It was hard not to like him within five minutes of meeting him.. the guy just knew how to win people over with his dumb jokes. Seriously.. they were pretty dumb jokes, but you found yourself rolling your eyes at him all while not taking too much offense because you had to try to lighten the mood a bit out there.
Riley and I were assigned to the 58th Rescue Squadron. We were pretty much starting at the same time. You think you could do all the research before joining the Armed Forces and know what you're expecting? No, there is probably nothing that could ever prepare you for it. It was pretty important to know that you weren't going though that overwhelming feeling alone. Riley was there every step of the way. It was my idea to become pararescuemen. It was
his idea to try out the Falcon suit. "Jet Packs, Wilson. Actual winged
jet packs," he said, trying to convince me over, looking like he stepped right into a sci-fi movie. Truth be told, it really wouldn't have taken much to get me to sign up for it. Have you seen those things? You might, today.
There's a lot to carry on your shoulders when you serve. I don't just mean that physically while being a pararescueman. There's joy out there when you find your men, and bring families back together but also a lot of heaviness when you can't. The most important thing is having someone to share that heaviness with you. My boy had a lot of friends.. we all carried the weight of his loss together that day, and some of us still do.
Here's to you, Riley. Thanks for being one hell of a trooper.
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