Where & Why It Began
These journals were never meant to be read by anyone but the soldiers who wrote in them. They were passed quietly from seat to seat on charter flights carrying U.S. troops to and from war zones after September 11th — a small offering of space to think, to feel, to put words to the unspoken. What I didn't expect was what happened next. Again and again, a soldier would rise from their seat, journal in hand, and come find me — the one who had started these notebooks — to tell me, with unmistakable urgency, that people needed to know what they were thinking. They held those journals and wouldn't let go until they knew I had heard them — and agreed to their terms. This archive exists because they insisted.
I started flying in the Spring of 2001. This was my dream job! International Flight Attendant. At the time, I wasn't aware of how special we had it, with our extended layovers and amazing passengers. I would learn, as flying increased over those much busier months.
World Airways was a special, unique airline to work for. We were long established as the largest military charter airline, having been around for 65 years, before their sad demise. But we were still small, relative to other airlines of the same age bracket. And because of our small size, we all knew each other. Some had flown together for fifty-plus years there, and they welcomed each of us in as part of the family. A family indeed, with close relationships, and lots of different personalities. Together, we were great.
This is something I've wanted to honor our troops with, to share the sentiments locked in these journals, for a very long time. I needed to know I could do it respectfully, without revealing them, personally. I also wanted to make sure it was shared directly from them, like I finally figured out how to do, here, by showcasing the actual journal pages. There were many little details I wanted to be right... perfect... before I would reveal them.
But with all that's going on in the world, this needed to be done immediately, even if it wasn't perfect. As it's turning out, I feel like I've given the collection the respect it deserves, after all.
All the while I was sorting out these details, Life was testing me. Ok, let's get real... Life was kicking my butt all over and back! Things have been beyond challenging, to say the least. My thoughts have always been with this treasure I was keeping to myself. These words, possibly their last words, that I had in my possession. These people who wrote in my journals may have given their lives in these years since their entries. How could my tough challenges compare? Life is just too short.
I may not have gotten it perfect, even now, but please know that I've strived for perfection, and have been trying to figure out how to make it perfect for all these years... even with my own roadblocks.
All the crazy that is making up our world right now has been part of why I thought an interjection of gratitude and sacrifice could only be a positive right now. There have also been many things said that touched my heart, and many stories shared with me that made me aware of more reasons why I really needed to share my journals.
A rather serendipitous encounter happened in Oregon just a few years ago, where I met one of my great contributors, completely by chance. More on that story with his poignant entry in future pages. I can't describe how amazing the moment was when we discovered he had been on my plane, and written in my journal book... and I clearly recalled his entry, due to what he shared. I'm confident my crew would remember also, as it moved all of us. I couldn't forget his name, but we'll call him "Joe" for this story. Thank you, "Joe." (name changed for privacy)
This conversation with "Joe" was joined by others who couldn't help listening in and strongly felt that I needed to share these possible last words with everyone. They are invaluable to families and friends, but really important for everyone to "hear" from the soldiers, themselves. Thank you, also, to the contributing "crew" for all their encouragement that evening.
I sat across from a lady in the Atlanta airport, shortly after beginning these journals. She and I got talking, as people do while waiting for planes. She had just come from her middle son's Army graduation. Her oldest son, in the Marines, was to leave for Kuwait only a month later. She could barely keep it together, fearing what could be in store for either of them. I shared what I did, taking troops back and forth. I felt so much for her. She teared up more, asking me what it was like to take them to these places. She said, "I wonder what they're thinking when they're going over there." Overcome with joy, I offered, "Would you like to actually see what they're thinking?" She looked a little baffled, so I handed her the journal from my flight bag, and explained how those very feelings were what inspired me to start these journals. She slowly opened it, becoming absorbed in each page, eyes filled with tears. At the same time, it seemed to give her a little peace. I hoped it helped her to see what some of the others were thinking. We were called to board at that moment, and she handed my book back to me. A part of me wanted to give it to her. She really didn't say much else, and I didn't get to talk with her again. I hope her sons are well, and hope she sees this and lets me know.
What I sincerely hope is that people read this archive with their hearts. Furthermore, with their hearts open.
We live in a world--from religion, to land, to oil and energy, to hatred and beliefs--that still believes in war as a solution. Consider more gratitude, in place of argument.
We should take into consideration that whatever we send out comes back to us. If we spent more energy learning about the viewpoints of other people, and the reasons they believe the way they do, it's likely we could appreciate each other's differences, by learning about them, rather than just deciding someone is wrong, or worse, just hating.
The multiple categories of escalating differences across our country (and really, the world) right now is only feeding a world which is full of hatred and separation, not inclusion and love. Inclusion and love are fostered by communication. They cannot be "forced" by rules and shaming.
What would today's world look like with just a little more understanding about the things we don't yet know about each other? Caring and respecting people's feelings is more about conversation, than about protests and demands. Conversation is talking AND listening. Start by listening with your heart, for the best results.
This rare opportunity to actually connect with what people are thinking and feeling, in a time of such turmoil and fear in our country, is a cherished gift... and might surprise a lot of people.
If you were on these flights, or know someone who was, your story doesn't end here. This archive is still being written.
Dedication Dedicated to our military soldiers and their families, who make the sacrifices to defend our country. To those who see it as their job to do whatever is asked of them, to go toward the danger, not run from it. They could be considered the "Behind-the-Scenes-Frontline-Workers." They are always present, doing the things we don't know a thing about, to keep us safe in our beds as we sleep.
Dedicated to my beautiful, kind, and compassionate daughter... who helped me transcribe (and sometimes "translate" the handwriting), and teared up with me as we read each one, again and again, together. Her endless input and support with all the little details throughout this process, was always full of love and encouragement. ...Know, my Love, that everything you do with your heart matters, and makes a difference.
Dedicated to my crew members... who loved the job, our soldiers, and each other. ... Thank you for your entries, your support, and love!
This September marks the 25th anniversary of September 11th. There is no better moment to hear these voices.
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These words were written aboard a World Airways charter flight on January 4th, 2003. If you recognize this handwriting, knew these soldiers, or were on this flight — your story doesn't end here. This archive is still being written.
Whether you were on these flights, know someone who was, or just found your way here — I want to hear from you.