Where did he go? Why did he go?
I was only four when my Pops left, off to fight in the war.
What is war anyway? Men fighting men – for what?
Yeah! Don’t try to explain it. You took my Pops away forever.
I’ll be a pilot when I grow up. I won’t be dropping any bombs
or shooting at anyone because I’m not going to join the service.
I’ll fly one of those big, jumbo planes and take people on their vacations.
They’ll have fun because I will fly them there.
I’ll point out the Grand Canyon and the Mississippi,
and when we land, everyone will clap.
I’ll stand in the doorway and thank them as they leave.
They’ll all be smiling and thanking me.
Then, they'll go have fun with their kids.
That’s what being a pilot is. Not shooting and bombing
or flying scared because someone is shooting at you.
I wonder if Pops was scared.
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