Helicopters

Often, I fall asleep with the sound of thunderstorms rolling in from the Gulf of Mexico. Or occasionally I might hear crickets or owls in the night, or sometimes I will hear my rooster crowing (he has a broken clock, but what could you expect from a rooster named Princess?).

Tonight, I hear an unusual sound. It is the hum of helicopters overhead.

We don't get many helicopter or airplane sounds out here. We don't live in a flight path, I guess. Not normally.

But we do live in a direct line from Pensacola, Florida to New Orleans, Louisiana. I'd bet my last dollar that the helicopters that I hear tonight, one after another... after another... after another... are coming out of our Navy and Air Force town of Pensacola, and are going to help those in New Orleans.

Thank God for that!

It reminds me of another time when I saw military plane after helicopter after cargo plane, over and over, fly over my head. I was standing on Fort Pickens Beach, Florida, at the tip of the island where I could see the Pensacola Navy Base across the Sound. The planes, having just taken off from the runway, were so close that I could see the pilots inside. The children and I waved and waved. I wished for an American flag.

It was the day that President Bush declared war on Afghanistan, after 9-11-2001.

by Lori Seaborg
Alabama Gulf Coast