World-Class Cyclist: From Virginia mountain trails to Olympic dreams

When two doors appeared in Senior Airman David Flaten’s dream, a voice told him one door would reveal whether or not he’d reach his goal as a professional cyclist;  If he chose the other door, he’d awaken and continue training with an uncertain future. Still, he opened it.

“During the dream, I had the thought process of asking myself, ‘If I open the door on the right, will I train tomorrow as hard as if I wouldn’t have known if I would be successful?,’” he said. “The answer was obviously no. So, I chose to open the door on the left in this dream. I woke up from my nap, and it’s still unknown. All I can do is work as hard as I can on a day-to-day basis and hope I can achieve what I want to.”

After pedaling to the top of the 4,200-foot peak of Reddish Knob, Senior Airman David Flaten cruises to the bottom of the mountain in the George Washington National Forest. Flaten moved to Harrisonburg, Virginia, an area known for its challenging, rocky, mountainous terrain and the professional cyclists who train there, a few months after he was selected for the Air Force World Class Athlete Program. (U.S. Air Force photo/Staff Sgt. Andrew Lee)

For the past year, the Air Force World Class Athlete Program has helped put Flaten into position to work toward his dreams in the sport he loves. Each day, he doggedly pedals the rocky hills near Harrisonburg, Virginia, such as those at Massanutten Mountain, or those leading to the 4,200-foot peak of Reddish Knob in the George Washington National Forest. Flaten’s most recent short-range focus has been on the Chequamegon Fat Tire Festival, a 40-mile mountain bike race in Wisconsin held in mid-September. But his ultimate goal is to land a spot on the U.S. Olympic Team in Rio de Janeiro next year.
“Riding a bike is a metaphor for anything that you do,” Flaten said. “As long as you’re pedaling forward, embracing that grind and what it takes to knock out that 100-mile loop or get that paper to your boss at the end of the week, that’s the winning mentality it takes to be successful.”
Last fall, shortly after he was selected for the Air Force sports program, Flaten moved to Harrisonburg — an area known for its challenging rocky terrain.
The selection allowed him to be released from his primary duties as an 811^th Security Forces Squadron protective services Airman at Joint Base Andrews, Maryland, for two years to train under coach Jeremiah Bishop, an internationally accomplished mountain biker, and compete in national and international cycling competitions.
“I’ve been given an incredible opportunity from the Air Force,” Flaten said. “The whole time I was at Andrews, my primary duties were to be a security forces Airman, and in front of me, I had that carrot dangling for this elusive program that I’d heard about that allows you to train full time.”

Senior Airman David Flaten is a bicyclist in the Air Force World Class Athlete Program. He competes in both mountain and road biking categories.

Bishop believes Flaten’s focus and motivation are his greatest attributes. The coach writes Flaten’s training program, advises him on conditioning and nutrition, and builds customized race scenarios tailored for upcoming competitions. Together, they see each of Flaten’s achievements as a small step to push him further along in his career.
“For David, it’s important to have stepping-stones, since as a rookie pro he is up against the best (cyclists) on Earth, and many have 10 more years of experience,” Bishop said. “A podium performance at his home pro race is David’s next goal. Performing at a high U.S. level is the first step in performing internationally. A Top 10 U.S. ranking is the next step in his progression, and these marks build confidence as we take on the next level.”
Past Struggles
If there had been a third door in Flaten’s dream, it might have shown him his past, when he was growing up in Eau Claire, Wisconsin. As a boy, Flaten felt frustrated because he had the drive, but not the athleticism, for major sports. Even today, he sometimes reflects on his sports struggles during his youth, such as on the baseball field, when he timidly approached home plate, almost afraid to make contact with the pitch.
“In Little League, there aren’t many balls going out to left field, and I always spent a lot of time kicking the grass and wondering why I wasn’t playing first base,” Flaten said. “I wanted to be the guy who was good at something.”
But he said he always felt comfortable on a bike, starting out on rides with a neighbor when he wanted to tackle a steep hill in the highest gear. Today, he incorporates similar rides into his training in a workout he calls the “Hill Smashers.”
In 2007, Flaten began racing at the age of 15 and completed his first mountain bike race on a 9-mile forest race in Wausau. He quickly moved through the Wisconsin Off Road Series rankings and reached Category 1 status two years later. He took a year off when he enlisted in the Air Force in 2010, but returned to the sport after he arrived at JB Andrews, where he balanced his cycling training with his security forces duties.

Leaning toward the ground, Senior Airman David Flaten quickly rides the edges of a berm on a man-made mountain biking trail on Massanutten Mountain in Virginia. The different locations Flaten trains on allows him to face different obstacles that would be present in races he competes in globally.

The competitive nature that remained hidden during Flaten’s past athletic pursuits shines when he’s on his bike. He’s more driven when he faces other cyclists in races, a lesson he learned in his first two years as a professional.
“This year, I’ve fully embraced showing up at mountain bike races and just racing my own race,” he said. “If you had a good day, you’ve had a good day. It doesn’t matter who you beat, and it doesn’t matter who beat you. If you felt great from start to finish, that’s a good day on the bike.”
Even after a four-hour ride on the bike, the training day isn’t over when Flaten returns to his apartment. He spends about 20 minutes on planks, pushups and squats — a vital part of training to prevent injury and improve his handling of the bike.
“When you’re on your bike, it’s not like you can do anything other than ride your bike,” he said. “When you’re at home, that’s when I think your biggest gains can be made, because you are consciously choosing not to turn on the TV as soon as you get in the door. Sometimes the dedication isn’t just getting out the door and going to work, it’s getting back in the door and realizing your day isn’t quite done.”
With winter nearing, Flaten still maintains the same philosophy about training, even when the weather doesn’t cater to a postcard-perfect day for a bike ride in the mountains. When brutal outdoor elements arise, he imagines what his competition is doing to force himself outside.
“There are days when it’s hard,” he said. “It’s hard to go and ride in the rain when it’s really cold. It’s easy to tell yourself how dangerous that it is to go and put yourself in that situation. But other times, it’s also easy to tell yourself that this is one extra training day that my competition decided to pull the plug and sleep in.”
Perseverance
Despite a slow start to his 2015 racing season, Flaten earned his first international ranking points in Norway and competed in his first World Cup races in the Czech Republic and Germany before returning stateside for more U.S. Cup competition.
It may be the disappointment from his results in Europe that could eventually pay off, because of the motivation it’s given him. He was pulled from his first World Cup race in Nové Město na Moravě in the central Czech Republic after a crash gashed his arm, resulting in stitches, and he watched the hometown hero cross the finish line.

Senior Airman David Flaten wipes the sweat off his forehead after training in the Massanutten Mountains in Virginia.

“I watched the Olympic champion from 2012 win his hometown race with 20,000 to 25,000 spectators absolutely losing their minds as he crossed the finish line with his hands in the air,” Flaten said. “I’ve never experienced something like that, and I don’t know if that will ever happen to me, but it looked like he had a great time as he was crossing the finish line. That’s something I would love to feel.”
Flaten may not have his daily security police duties for at least another year, but his Air Force training still impacts his daily life. He meticulously takes care of his bikes and equipment as he treats his uniforms, and core values also play a factor in his approach to both his training and competition.
“I pride myself on being a clean racer,” he said. “Being able to look yourself in the mirror every day and to say I ran my race clean is important to me to represent not only the armed forces, but my family name, as well.”
Late in the day, Flaten balances the adrenaline of biking up Virginia’s hills with a more relaxed sport — fishing for trout alone on a forest creek. Flaten has no problem with solitude. In fact, it has actually become a useful tool in his training. During one six-day period, while his coach was out of town for his own race, without even noticing it, Flaten was so engulfed in his training that he didn’t speak a single word to anyone.

Senior Airman David Flaten takes a moment to watch the sunset on his way down a mountain in the George Washington National Forest.

“I didn’t realize it until the last day, when I was resting in my apartment, that I hadn’t called my parents for a few days,” he said. “I called my mom, and that was when I realized that I hadn’t said a word for six days. That was a very strange sensation to have, but it was also one of the most constructive weeks of training I’ve ever had.
“It wasn’t until I joined the military that I discovered that I really thrived on alone time. I really see progress in my numbers and training results when I train by myself. Not only have I discovered that I thrive in it, but I kind of enjoy it.”
Each hill Flaten climbs, his focus is on his hometown race. This year, he believes he has a shot at making the top five, if not winning the same race once won by cycling greats like Greg LeMond, a three-time winner of the Tour de France.
The Chequamegon race is really just another stepping-stone that Flaten hopes will draw him closer to his goal of representing his country and the Air Force in 2016.

After pedaling to the top of the 4,200-foot peak of Reddish Knob, Senior Airman David Flaten cruises to the bottom of the mountain in the George Washington National Forest. Flaten was released from his primary duties as an 811th Security Forces Squadron protective services Airman at Joint Base Andrews, Maryland, to join the sports program.

“Making the Olympics next year is going to be very challenging and the likelihood of making it is very slim, because there are a lot of guys going for those slots,” he said. “But I’m up to bat now. This is my chance to hit the home run, and I’m not afraid of the ball.”

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The 400: Technical School Airmen Endure the Storm and Then Stay to Pick Up the Pieces

THE 400

Technical school Airmen endure the storm and then stay to pick up the pieces

STORY BY RANDY ROUGHTON // STAFF SGT. JETTE CARR

21 September 2015

KEESLER AIR FORCE BASE, Miss. — As Hurricane Katrina struck the base, rising waters swallowed parked cars. The base and the 6,000 sheltered military students, permanent party, civilians and their families survived the Category 4 hurricane with no casualties. The initial damage was catastrophic to base infrastructure. The base is currently in the assessment and recovery stage. (U.S. Air Force photo)

Aug. 29, 2005 – Hurricane Katrina reached the coast of Mississippi, bringing with it high winds and widespread flooding.  When the storm dissipated,  it wasn’t calm that settled over the city. Instead, thousands of people were left without homes, with family and friends who had died in the storm or its aftermath, and a long road ahead of them as they tried to come to grips with what they had lost. While people worked to resurrect their city, a large group of Airmen came together to help in whatever manner they could.
Tech. Sgt. Steven Brumley, now the 637th Communications Squadron communications focal point NCO in charge at Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska, in retrospect, finds it interesting how much of a non-event Hurricane Katrina was to begin with.  The storm wasn’t expected to grow so large, or to have such a devastating effect when it impacted land. Coming from an inland state, Brumley wasn’t sure what to expect when he first heard about the incoming tempest nearly one decade ago.

Courtesy Photo

In September 2005, Brumley was a 17-year-old airman basic who’d just arrived at Keesler Air Force Base, Mississippi, for technical training to become a radio frequency transmission systems Airman. Because he was so new, he hadn’t yet been given the opportunity to visit the surrounding community of Biloxi. Therefore, his memory of the city pre-storm is now relegated to the view he saw from a car window while on his way to his base the first time.
“I can barely remember what it looked like,” Brumley said.  “There was stuff all along the shore – the casinos and whatnot — and it was bright.  I saw it all on the drive in, and then the next time I went off base, there was nothing at all along the shore. It was all gone.”
Just hours before the storm hit, an evacuation/shelter in place notice was given out.  Hundreds of tech school students gathered into crowded rooms at Jones Hall, each finding small spaces on the floor to claim as their home for the next three days.

Courtesy Photo

“It got hot really fast, and you could hear the wind howling outside,” Brumley said.  “I remember wandering the halls, always dodging to get out of someone’s way, eavesdropping on conversations, time dragging by slowly.  Students were congregated by boarded-up exits with phones checking for signals or playing cards, or just talking in groups.”
After the storm had passed, the doors were opened to let in fresh air; however, Airmen weren’t allowed to leave the building until a couple days later. On the first day, people crowded around the door openings to peer out and assess the damage.  Brumley said he didn’t see much from that vantage point, but later, during the cleanup effort, he would get a more startling view of his surroundings.
Once Katrina had finished ripping through Mississippi, those affected began the arduous task of clearing out the debris and mending whatever structures they could.  On the base, 400 students were given the option to stay and help in the effort; all others would be evacuated. Brumley was quick to volunteer.

Courtesy Photo

“One thing I told myself when I went to basic training was I wanted to ‘make a difference’ in my career,” he said. “I remember the (military training leaders) announcing that everyone would be flying out to Sheppard (AFB), but they needed some students to stay back to help with cleanup.  I really didn’t know a lot about what was going on immediately following the storm. I had no idea what was coming or what to expect.  All I remember thinking was ‘Here’s an opportunity to make a difference,’ and I jumped at it. I’ve still never regretted that decision.”
All remaining 400 students congregated into one building on base.  Each day, they were separated into teams and given an area to begin picking up trash and debris – a common commodity on base after Katrina. The flightline smelled of dead fish after being submerged during the storm, and tree branches blanked the ground.  Brumley said he was grateful to never get tasked with cleanup of the Commissary building, which at one point had been flooded with nearly six feet of water.  He’d heard horror stories about the smell of the place.
On a few occasions, Brumley’s team was able to give aid in the surrounding areas.  During one trip, the students’ driver pointed to a street as they passed.  He let his passengers know that entire families had been found dead in their homes after they tried to ride out Katrina there.  That was the first time the magnitude of the storm hit home for the young airman basic.

Courtesy Photo

“One thing that struck me about the few times I helped clean up off base was the overwhelming feeling that we weren’t making any progress” Brumley said.  “I went out in crews and we would spend all day moving trash into piles, but the destruction felt endless, like we hadn’t even put a scratch on the surface.
Over three weeks, the 400 Airmen worked tirelessly every single day. After that time, classes began again and the technical schoolers’ parts in the recovery effort, for the most part, came to a close.
“The experience has helped me put other things in life into better perspective,” Brumley said.  “You can think about something like Katrina and you realize all the little things you get caught up in are petty and don’t really matter – they’re just distractions.  When something catastrophic happens, you have to focus on the bigger picture.”

KEESLER AIR FORCE BASE, Miss. — Students with the 332nd and 335th Training Squadrons here prepare to be evacuated to Shepard AFB, Texas, aboard a C-17 Globemaster III from the 58th Airlift Squadron, Altus AFB, Okla. Sept. 1. More than 2400 students and non-essential personnel will be evacuated from Keesler because of Hurricane Katrina’s aftermath. (U.S. Air Force photo by Tech. Sgt. Mike Buytas)

Many of the 1,000 technical training students who had to be evacuated around the time of Katrina’s landfall wanted to stay behind to help. Once they returned to Keesler, one of the first questions they asked was how soon they could begin helping in the area recovery effort, said Col. Robert F. Simmons, then the 2nd Air Force director of operations. The account of the students’ evacuation and role in the area’s recovery was told in “Operation Dragon Comeback: Air Education and Training Command’s Response to Hurricane Katrina” by Dr. Bruce A. Ashcroft and Dr. Joseph L. Mason with the Air Education Training Command Office of History and Research.
“Most of these folks had only been in the Air Force for eight weeks,” said then-Chief Master Sgt. Rodney Ellison, AETC command chief master sergeant, when he visited Keesler AFB two days after the storm. “But their sense of commitment and their willingness to stay and do whatever it took to clean up, because they had been through the storm and felt they were abandoning others when they needed help the most — that’s heartening. Because here are people whose biggest concern two or three months ago was who to take to the prom. Now they’re concerned about people they’ve never even met.”
Though 400 non-prior service students stayed to help clear the base of debris, the 81st Training Group initially wanted to keep 800 students, but had to reduce the number to make billeting room for Mississippi National Guard troops after U.S. Northern Command made Keesler an operational staging activity three days after the storm.
“The students played a tremendous role in the recovery effort,” said retired Maj. Gen. Paul Capasso, who took command of the 81st Training Wing about two months after the storm. “From base cleanup to going downtown to help the recovery efforts of the cities of Biloxi and Gulfport, they were literally involved in that every week.
“Probably every day of the week, there were students out and about doing great things for Keesler (AFB) and the community, such as repairing and building houses and picking up debris off the beaches. Recovery covers a lot of things in getting the wing and the community back on their feet, and for the first month or so after the storm, those 400 students had their hands full.”

People continue cleanup efforts here after Hurricane Katrina passed through Aug. 29. Although it did not pass directly over the base, the base sustained more than $765,000 in damage. Maximum winds reached 50 knots. (U.S. Air Force photo by 2nd Lt. Jeremy Cotton)

Katrina may have slowed the wing’s training mission for a while, with officials facing the task of reconstituting more than 100 resident courses that were taught before Katrina, but it was quickly back to its pre-storm footing. By the first anniversary of Katrina in 2006, the 81st Training Group was averaging 3,400 students, a 26 percent increase from the pre-storm average, said then-Col. Deborah Van De Ven, who assumed command of the group a month after Katrina, according to an August 2006 article on the official Air Force website.
The command formed a tiger team to work with the 81st TG staff to deal with training issues and establish priorities to bring up 142 courses determined by Air Staff. After the hurricane, the number of staff members dropped by 10 percent, but the staff augmented the instructor force with people from other bases.
By the time Capasso took command on Nov. 15, almost 2,000 non-prior service students were in training, more than before Katrina. On Aug. 21, the last student whose initial skills training was interrupted by Katrina had returned to finish training, which led Capasso to say, “Today, our training mission is back to 100 percent, thanks to the hard work of our Airmen.”
Capasso retired in 2011 as director of cyberspace operations and network services with the Office of Information Dominance and chief information officer for the Office of the Secretary of the Air Force and is now vice president of strategic programs for a cybersecurity solutions provider in Ashburn, Virginia. But a decade after Katrina, he still has fond memories of the students who played such an integral role in the recovery of the base and the community so early in their Air Force careers.
“The whole story of Katrina is a story of courage, strength and resiliency – people helping people and neighbors helping neighbors,” Capasso said. “It was an eye-awakening experience for all of those new Airmen who had just joined the Air Force during their time (at Keesler).
“Then, a major storm comes through, and they’re out there making a difference to a community that has been devastated. I think the stories they can tell are good teaching moments for all of the folks they met as they got older and more experienced in their Air Force careers. It was a brilliant story of how people, no matter who or where they are, can come together.”

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Hurricane Warning: 53rd WRS aircrews weather dangerous storms to gather data, save lives

STORY BY RANDY ROUGHTON

15 September 2015

The view above Hurricane Katrina. (U.S. Air Force photo)

As the WC-130J Hercules draws closer to a hurricane deep in the Atlantic Ocean, the navigator lines up the crew’s flight plan with the National Hurricane Center’s (NHC) information requests. Just for a moment, as the plane approaches the storm, the 20-year Hurricane Hunter veteran’s mind drifts back to a similar mission a decade ago. That storm, Hurricane Katrina, changed the way crewmembers view virtually every storm mission they fly.
“While I’m setting our computer up, it always takes me back to that normal Sunday morning in 2005,” Lt. Col. John Fox said. “We knew it was going to be a bad storm, but like so many other people, I was in the trap of thinking of Camille (a Category 5 hurricane that devastated the Mississippi coast in 1969). Nothing was ever going to be as bad as Camille, but here came Camille’s big sister. Katrina tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Hey, John, you’re not a forecaster.’ The Katrina experience taught us that you never really know what you’re going to see.”
Although each flight is different, during a typical 10-plus-hour mission, each of the five crewmembers stay busy while on their way to the storm, inside the eye of the hurricane, and on the flight back to Keesler Air Force Base, Mississippi. On each mission, the crew flies through the hurricane in what they call an alpha pattern, penetrating its eyewall at least four times and collecting valuable data from each quadrant of the storm.
As “the overall boss of the aircraft,” Maj. Sean Cross, the aircraft commander, lets his co-pilot take care of the flying as he monitors the radios and the rest of the crew. While currently in his 14th season as a Hurricane Hunter, Cross has seen more than his share of hurricanes, both from the air and on the ground. Since he joined the squadron in 2001, Cross has made almost 150 “pennies,” a term crewmembers use for flights into the eyes of tropical storms and hurricanes.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew spends their time on pre-storm checklists. They also use the satellite phone — a convenience crews didn’t have onboard in previous years — to talk with another crew on their way back from a previous hurricane mission to get pre-briefed on expected weather conditions. At the same time, they know they could face something different, maybe even considerably more intense, than what the previous crew experienced just a few hours earlier.
Daylight gradually disappears as the plane draws closer to the storm. The crew is relatively quiet as they approach the hurricane’s outer edges.

Air Force graphic // Travis Burcham

“The eyewall’s coming up crew!” Maj. Devon Meister, the pilot, announces as the plane approaches the area of about 200 miles of intense, spinning thunderstorms that whirl around the hurricane’s center. Anyone not already buckled up quickly clicks in their seat belt. The pilots are especially focused because they want to make sharp turns to ensure they reach the exact center of the storm, so they can gather the information they need. Sometimes the first encounter with the eyewall isn’t as violent as the crew might expect, but they know not to take it for granted on subsequent passes through the teeth of the hurricane.
“What you have to be careful of is that you don’t drop your guard on the next pass about 40 minutes later, because this thing is living and growing and spinning counter-clockwise,” Cross said. “The spot you went in is not going to be the same stuff you go through an hour and 40 minutes later.”
Inside the storm, the navigator and weather officer study the radar. The crew doesn’t mind flying through areas in red, but they want to avoid magenta, which usually means heavier rains and turbulence, and flashing white, which would signify severe turbulence.

Loadmaster holding a biodegrable dropsonde.
(U.S. Air Force photo)

As the WC-130J continues through the eyewall, radiometers on the wings gauge wind speed at the ocean’s surface every second. Meanwhile, Master Sgt. Jeff Stack, a loadmaster, watches the screen on his computer monitor while holding a cylindrical capsule in his left hand. He waits for the weather officer to give him the signal to drop the first biodegradable dropsonde that will collect the vital data on the storm as it falls attached to a parachute to the ocean surface.
The dropsonde is one of several weather instruments that measures temperature, pressure, dew point, wind speed and direction inside the hurricane, as well as the surface pressure inside the hurricane’s eye. It can directly measure at several levels in the atmosphere as it descends.
The weather officer is focused on his radar, waiting until the winds reach the maximum peak. He relies on surface wind data from the Stepped Frequency Microwave Radiometer (SFMR) — which continuously measures the winds at the ocean’s surface directly below the aircraft — to tell him when to give the signal the loadmaster is waiting to hear to release the dropsonde.

Lt. Col. John Gallagher roughly calculates the size of Hurricane Igor’s eyewall onboard a WC-130J Hercules during a mission Sept. 16, 2010, over the Atlantic Ocean. Colonel Gallagher is a flight meteorologist with the Air Force Reserve Command‘s 53rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron at Keesler Air Force Base. Miss. (Photo // Staff Sgt. Michael B. Keller)

During the 2005 season, only a few aircraft had the instrument available, but now each of the 53^rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron airplanes have the SFMR, nicknamed “the Smurf.” This constant measurement of surface winds gives the NHC a considerably more complete picture of the storm and can also determine rainfall rates within a storm system.
“Now we’re able to map the entire surface wind field underneath a hurricane and provide very accurate data on the strongest winds and where they are in the storm,” said Lt. Col. Jonathan Talbot, the 53rd WRS chief meteorologist. “The exciting thing about this instrument is you don’t have to rely on visually seeing what the winds are, or just getting a single point sample. You have hundreds and hundreds of samples of what the wind speeds are, and you can see as the storm intensifies or weakens, and that directly relates into the warnings that go out.”
Finally, the SFMR shows the winds at their peak, and the weather officer gives the signal to the loadmaster. A few seconds after the loadmaster releases the dropsonde into a tube through the bottom of the aircraft, it descends attached to a tiny parachute toward the ocean and immediately begins sending data back to the plane on the way to the NHC.
Suddenly, the rain and winds cease, and the sky is now blue above the plane, which is surrounded by magnificently white and puffy clouds — what the crewmembers call “the stadium effect.”

The sun sets as the clouds break after the WC-130J aircraft penetrates Tropical Storm Lee Sept. 2. The 53rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron “Hurricane Hunters,” were gathering atmospheric data on the storm to send to the National Hurricane Center. The crew flew was flying to Houston to store the aircraft as Tropical Storm Lee was set to bring heavy rain to Keesler Air Force Base in Biloxi, Miss. (Photo // Staff Sgt. Valerie Smock)

“We’re breaking out now,” the pilot announces to the rest of the crew. “We’re in the eye.”
“Turn left 10 degrees,” the weather officer tells the pilot, so the plane can reach the direct center. Once at the spot where the wind readings fall to zero, he tells the loadmaster to drop another dropsonde. The crew can then connect the two coordinates and refine forecasts on the storm’s movement and direction.
Once out of the storm, the crew works on their post-storm checklists and making sure the NHC has all the information retrieved during the mission. Some crewmembers are already thinking about the impact the information will have on weather forecasts and if people in the storm’s path will heed the warnings.
As each hurricane season begins, Cross reflects on the 2005 storms, including one conversation he had with a fellow Gulf Coast resident who had just discovered his house was destroyed. The man covered his mouth with his hand, and Cross tried to comfort him by placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. Cross told him he could rebuild, but was informed the family had no insurance.

The casino resort area of Biloxi, Miss., received significant damage in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, which had roared through the area four days earlier, as seen in this Fla. Fish and Wildlife Commission water patrol tour Sep. 2, 2005. Hurricane Katrina battered the Gulf Coast with wind gusts in excess of 140 miles per hour, flattened buildings and flooded areas from Florida to Louisiana. Millions of people were left without power and hundreds of thousands homeless. (Photo // Tech. Sgt. Jennifer C. Wallis)

“It’s really hard when you do this years on end, because you know there’s always going to be somebody standing with their hand over their mouth because everything they owned is gone.”
Katrina remains the costliest hurricane in U.S. history and the deadliest since 1928, with more than 1,800 deaths, mostly due to the 30-foot storm surge that breeched the levees in New Orleans and flooded 80 percent of the city. But Katrina was only one of four hurricanes that reached Category 5 status on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Scale for winds higher than 175 mph. The busiest season on record produced three of the five most intense hurricanes in the past decade, according to NHC data.
Fortunately, this year isn’t forecast to be as devastating as the 2005 hurricane season was — a year that set records for tropical storms and the most major hurricanes to hit the U.S. The Hurricane Hunters remain ready for whatever the season — which continues through Nov. 30 — throws at them.  Less than a dozen 53^rd WRS members remain from a decade ago, when Katrina damaged or destroyed about 30 percent of the homes of squadron members, including Fox’s.

A member of the Calif. Task Force (CATF) 4 out of Oakland, Calif., searches through the rubble of a house in Biloxi, Miss., Sep. 7, 2005. CATF joined the U.S. military and other agencies from around the country to search for missing Biloxi residents in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Hurricane Katrina battered the Gulf Coast with wind gusts in excess of 140 miles per hour, flattening buildings and flooding areas from Florida to Louisiana. Millions of people were left without power and hundreds of thousands homeless. (Photo // Tech. Sgt. Jennifer C. Wallis)

If he ever needs a reminder not to take a storm for granted, Fox just recalls a flight 1,000 feet above the ravaged Mississippi coast from Houston to Dobbins Air Reserve Base, Georgia, where they flew the rest of their storm missions before returning to Keesler AFB in November.
“Normally, there is some talk and some banter on the aircraft. This was dead silence,” Fox said. “I remember how quiet the airplane was. You were kind of punch-drunk looking at that. In our little part of the world, Katrina was like a house fire that everybody suffered, when you realized what was really important.”
On missions inside the most powerful storms like Katrina, crewmembers often reflect on how the data they gather will affect advisories and warnings that help people on the ground stay safe.
“You just hope that because we risk our lives to get this information out there to help forecast models to put the warnings out there, that people listen and pay attention,” Cross said.

Thick clouds engulf the WC-130J aircraft as it penetrates Hurricane Irene August 27. The flight was a pretty smooth one for the 53rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron “Hurricane Hunters,” who transmitted storm data to the National Hurricane Center for their forecast models. The dropsonde measures air temperature, wind speed and direction, barometric pressure and relative humidity. (Photo // Tech. Sgt. Ryan Labadens)

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'Katrina Girl' Found: Pararescueman finally locates girl he saved after Hurricane Katrina

HH-60 Pave Hawk
Photo // Staff Sgt. Jason Robertson

Destruction and heartbreak surrounded the pararescueman, along with the rest of New Orleans, during the first week of September 2005. No matter how many people Staff Sgt. Michael Maroney pulled from rooftops, trees and the flooded waters of the Crescent City, there was no escaping the sickening sights and sounds during those 14-hour days in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. That was before he received an enthusiastic embrace from a little pigtailed girl he pulled from waist-level water into his HH-60G Pave Hawk about a week after the hurricane. When Maroney delivered the girl and her family to the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport, she leaped up and threw her arms around him. The embrace and the girl’s infectious smile were captured in a photo that later went viral. That moment with the unknown child, who later became known as “Katrina Girl,” changed everything in Maroney’s mind. In late August, after almost a decade of searching, Maroney learned the girl is 13-year-old LeShay Brown, who lives with her mother in Waveland, Mississippi, as first reported by PEOPLE Magazine on Sept. 2. He’s eagerly anticipating a reunion with her and her mother, Shawntrell Brown, in New Orleans in late September, a meeting he calls a “one in a trillion” shot. A friend of LeShay’s sent a copy of the viral photo of that hug, along with another picture in a clipping of a newspaper article published in Tennessee, where the family was sheltered after the rescue, to Maroney’s 13-year-old son, Christopher.

Senior Airmen Talon Leinbaugh, a 66th Rescue Squadron aerial gunner, conducts aerial surveillance in an HH-60G Pave Hawk over the Pacific Ocean during Angel Thunder 2015, June 11, 2015.
Photo // Senior Airman Betty R. Chevalier

“I’m a very optimistic person, but I’m also a realist,” Maroney said. “Things don’t always happen the way you want them to, so I try to hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. It was like it was never going to happen. But when I saw the picture, I knew it was her. I’ve been speechless ever since.” Maroney is now a master sergeant assigned to the 308^th Rescue Squadron at Patrick Air Force Base, Florida. However, he’s training future pararescuemen in San Antonio while he works on completing his medical retirement at Joint Base San Antonio-Lackland, Texas. When Katrina struck the Louisiana and Mississippi Gulf Coast on Aug. 29, 2005, Maroney was a pararescueman deployed with the 58^th Rescue Squadron at Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada. He had armed himself with Beanie Babies to comfort the children he knew he would encounter in the rescue effort. In a career Mahoney calls the “world devastation tour,” he counts the people he’s rescued at 304, but LeShay stands out above them all, partly because she was about the same age as one of his sons. Once the Pave Hawk delivered LeShay and her family to the airport, they joined many other residents who were displaced by the hurricane and were taken to various locations. Maroney never asked her name, but also never forgot her smile or the unbridled joy she showed in the midst of all of the turmoil and tragedy. Just a couple of months before Katrina, Mahoney returned from a deployment to Afghanistan, where he and his fellow pararescuemen picked up nothing but bodies for 22 days. By the time he’d found the girl’s family, he’d experienced similar emotions as he tried to find people he could save, especially on that particular day. Years later, the little girl stood out in his memory, not only because of the happy ending at the airport, but also because for once, someone Mahoney rescued was able to say express appreciation. Even though hearing those two words isn’t the reason Mahoney faces the dangerous work of a pararescueman, hearing them — especially from the mouth of a child – was particularly meaningful. “Most of the time I drop people off, they’re unconscious,” he said. “They’re blown up or shot, so they’re not really cognizant. She made up for all of the thank-you’s I never got.” Maroney carried LeShay from the ground to the Pave Hawk. As they ascended on the hoist, she pointed out her home and school from the air. Once in the helicopter, LeShay consoled her mother, who was apparently frightened of the helicopter ride, by rubbing her back and telling her, “It’s OK, mom. We’re safe now.” “When we landed at New Orleans International Airport, I picked her up to take her off the Pave Hawk, and she wraps me up in that big hug,” Maroney said. “All of the troubles and problems going on were just melted away.

58th Rescue Squadron pararescuemen perform a 50-foot hoist extraction from a HH-60 Pave Hawk helicopter assigned to the 66th Rescue Squadron as part of a search and rescue mission during Operation Angel Thunder 2011 in Tucson, Ariz.
Photo // Staff Sgt. Andy M. Kin

“It could have been five or 10 seconds. But that hug has lasted 10 years now. It was the perfect moment, what I needed to recharge my batteries after seeing New Orleans destroyed and picking up all of those people after all of that destruction. That one gesture from her gave me enough energy to make it through the rest of my time. If I never did anything else the rest of my life, that hug made it worthwhile.” The family returned to New Orleans from the shelter in Tennessee, but moved to Mississippi a few months ago. Both mother and daughter seemed surprised the pararescueman who saved them spent so much of the past decade thinking about them. “I was excited that he was looking for me for such a long time,” LeShay told PEOPLE. “I’ve barely seen any of the pictures!” LeShay doesn’t remember the rescue, although she does recall much about life in the shelter after FEMA moved them to Tennessee. Her mother remembers it all, especially since it was her first helicopter ride, as well as her first trip out of New Orleans. About five years after Katrina, Maroney left active duty for the Reserve after deployments in Afghanistan and Iraq. But that photo of the one memorable rescue in New Orleans remained on the wall in his home. Now that he’s finally found the girl who for about a decade was only known as “Katrina Girl” by much of the country, he’s grateful for many people who helped get the word that finally reached the family’s neighborhood in a small Mississippi town.

NEW ORLEANS — A young Hurricane Katrina survivor hugs her rescuer, Staff Sgt. Mike Maroney, after she was relocated to the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport, La., on Sept. 7. Sergeant Maroney is a pararescueman fromm the 58th Rescue Squadron at Nellis Air Force Base, Nev.
Photo // Airman 1st Class Veronica Pierce

“If I can thank everybody who helped look for her, give everybody a hug, say thank you to every single person who helped me, I would do it,” Maroney said. “It blows me away, the outpouring of love and kindness people have given, and shows that it’s not about color, it’s about people. If we can come together in a horrible moment like Katrina, I wonder why we can’t come together now. I hope this picture can show we’re all Americans and can find things that pull us together.” Maroney has had a decade to think about what he would say to her if he were to ever see her again. Finally, he will soon get that chance. When Maroney and his two sons make the eight-and-a-half drive from San Antonio to New Orleans, he plans to show LeShay and her mother some of the many articles and videos that have been produced about them. His main goal is to emphasize how important she has been in his life for the past decade. “(Shawntrell) and her daughter have left an indelible mark engraved on my heart,” he said. “It hurts me to know that people are suffering, but what’s beautiful is they’re fine, they’re happy living their lives and aren’t letting things get to them. There is such strength and resiliency in that family. If I can help them, I really want to help them because they really helped me.”

- See more at: http://airman.dodlive.mil/2015/09/katrina-girl-found/#sthash.STikNHD2.dpuf

C-17 Health Care: Non-destructive Inspection Shop Looks Into C-17’s Body to Determine Potential Problems

Airman 1st Class Khalil Edmonson, 437th Maintenance Squadron non-destructive inspection journeyman, responds to a requests to review a C-17 Globemaster III aircraft part on Feb. 18, 2015 at Joint Base Charleston, S.C. Edmonson and other NDI technicians work directly with maintenance inspectors when wear and tear is visible on the aircraft.

The Non-Destructive Inspection (NDI) technician is the personal physician for the C-17 Globemaster III. Much like a regular doctor, the 437^th Maintenance Squadron’s NDI shop at Joint Base Charleston, South Carolina, looks over the C-17 to catch problems before the entire aircraft, as well as its crew, can be put into jeopardy. Instead of tumors and disease, NDI technicians look for cracks and other defects in each part of the airplane they inspect. JB Charleston celebrated 3 million flying hours for the C-17 fleet earlier this year. The milestone is the equivalent of one aircraft being airborne for 342 years. So the mileage on the C-17 makes aircraft part inspection especially crucial. “I am most proud of how many lives we have saved and mishaps we have been able to prevent by finding cracked, damaged and faulty parts,” said Staff Sgt. John M. Price, the NDI assistant NCO in charge. “Removing them from service eliminated any potential risks they could have caused if they continued to be used in flying operations.”

Non destructive inspection technicians assigned to the 437th Maintenance Squadron, close the door of a C-17 Globemaster III after completing an inspection request on Feb. 18, 2015 at Joint Base Charleston, S.C. The 437th MXS NDI technicians are responsible for detecting cracks in aircraft or vehicle parts for the entire fleet at Joint Base Charleston.

Many bases provide NDI support to the C-17, but JB Charleston is the only one used for testing. The shop’s five active-duty Airmen, two Air Force Reserve technicians and two civilian technicians inspect metal objects ranging from nuts and bolts to large hooks and sheets of metal. Parts vary from those weighing hundreds of pounds and designed to hold the C-17’s main landing gear to a 2-inch bolt that weighs only ounces. JB Charleston’s NDI was named the best laboratory in the Air Force in 2006 against almost 200 other labs. Its Airmen have also received numerous individual awards. Although NDI technicians feel a sense of accomplishment when they find a crack in an airplane part, the key is the inspection process, said Tech. Sgt. Ryan Michalec, the shop’s NCO in charge. “Doing the job is actually fairly simple. It’s knowing the science behind it,” he said. “It’s understanding how to interpret what you’re looking at, not only physically, with the parts, penetrant and magnetic particle testing, but also with the machines that are telling you what’s going on.” Once the NDI technicians find a crack, they refer the part to aircraft structural maintenance for repair. The part will then return to NDI for a post inspection after it’s repaired. While inspecting JB Charleston’s 50 C-17s, the shop uses six inspection methods: fluorescent penetrant, eddy current, magnetic particle, bond testing, ultrasonic and X-ray testing methods. Liquid penetrant testing is one of the oldest and simplest NDI methods, dating back to the 19^th century, where it was used on railroad parts with kerosene and an oil mixture, Michalec said. Today, a florescent penetrant is used to detect any surface-connected discontinuities, such as cracks from fatigue, quenching and grinding, as well as fractures, porosity, and flaws in joints. A penetrant is applied to the test part, rinsed with water, submerged in an emulsifying liquid, rinsed with water again, then followed by a developer. The developer helps to draw the penetrant out of the flaw where an invisible indication becomes visible. Inspection is performed under ultraviolet light.

Airman 1st Class Khalil Edmonson, 437th Maintenance Squadron non-destructive inspection journeyman, reviews lines to determine cracks on two sheets of metal during an electromagnetic inspection at Joint Base Charleston, S.C. The 437th MXS NDI shop inspects metal objects ranging from nuts and bolts, to large hooks and sheets of metal.

“The reason we use fluorescent light is because the visual acuity of someone with 20/20 vision is about one-3000^th of an inch, meaning that is what you can actually see,” Michalec said. “But we’re looking for stuff you can’t see. We’re looking for stuff that, if you’re looking at a part, you have no idea there’s a crack on there unless you specifically knew where and what to look for. “The good thing about this method is it’s sensitive, and we can find very tiny cracks with it, which is great because if you’re in the aircraft world, you know that little, tiny cracks can turn into really big cracks with the right amount of stress on that particular part.” Eddy currents are circular electrical currents induced in a conductive metal by reacting to an alternating magnetic field. The testing uses electromagnetic induction to detect flaws in conductive materials. It can detect particularly small cracks on or near the surface. “The technology on that particular inspection has increased a lot over the last 30 years,” Michalec said. “The capability has gone from basically a needle on a meter to a machine that actually reads conductivity like a tiny metal detector. “You’re going to get these little circular electrical currents flowing inside of that metal called eddy currents. Those circular electrical currents are going to create another magnetic field that’s pushing against the magnetic field coming out of the probe. Electricity and magnetism don’t like to go through air. When that secondary magnetic field hits that crack, it’s going to disappear, and the machine is made to read what extent the eddy currents dissipate, so we can estimate what kind of depth we have in the crack.”

Airman 1st Class Khalil Edmonson, 437th Maintenance Squadron non-destructive inspection journeyman, responds to a requests to review the right inboard main landing gear door hinge pin on a C-17 Globemaster III aircraft part on Feb. 18, 2015 at Joint Base Charleston, S.C. Edmonson and other NDI technicians work directly with maintenance inspectors when wear and tear is visible on the aircraft.

Because the C-17 is made mostly out of bonded structures, NDI uses ultrasonic testing quite often. It’s the same technology used to detect a fetus in the womb, but instead of a baby, the NDI technician is looking for a crack. “It’s a different technique, but the same theory applies,” Michalec said.  “We’re placing sound into a material, looking for a reflection from the back side of it, and if we see anything in between there, we can tell you there’s a crack and the depth of the crack.” The same theory also applies to bond testing, Michalec said. The idea is to put sound into the part being inspected and look for changes in the sound waves  on the equipment’s screen. One common method of bond testing is the tap test. The technician taps the surface of the test structure and evaluates the sound the knock produced. The tap test method has demonstrated the ability to detect cracks, corrosion, impact damage and disbanding of bonded structures. “It’s like finding a stud in the wall,” Michalec said.

Airman 1st Class Brett Gyurnek, 437th Maintenance Squadron non-destructive inspection journeyman, 437th Maintenance Squadron non-destructive inspection journeyman, wears a protective mask, apron and gloves while handling aircraft parts that have been sprayed with a dye to prevent any of the liquid from getting on his skin or in his eyes on Feb. 18, 2014 at Joint Base Charleston, S.C. The 437th MXS NDI shop inspects metal objects ranging from nuts and bolts, to large hooks and sheets of metal on aircraft and vehicles.

Radiography involves the photographic record produced by the passage of radiation, such as X-rays or gamma rays through an object onto film. When X-ray film is exposed to radiation, an invisible change called a latent image is produced on the film itself, once the film is developed. Along with the variety of testing methods, one of the advantages of the NDI career field is its versatility, Michalec said. He’s done inspections on virtually every Air Force airplane during his career, in addition to Marine Corps helicopters, the Navy’s EA-6B Prowler and oil analysis testing on the Army’s special operations helicopters while he was deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq. “I don’t think there’s but one or two military aircraft that I haven’t had my hands on in my 13-year career,” Michalec said. “I enjoy it, because this is one career field where we can go and work on anything. If it rolls, rotates or flies, we can work on it. That makes it a unique kind of career field because if you are a C-17 crew chief, you’re a C-17 crew chief. If you’re an F-16 (Fighting Falcon) crew chief, you’re an F-16 crew chief. You are going to stay with that platform. “But for us, we can go to different bases and work on different platforms. Whether they are helicopters, fighters, cargo, bombers or attack aircraft, NDI can do a job on them, and the equipment would also be the same. We use the same equipment across the Air Force, with the same standards.” Another aspect of the job that remains the same, from tech school through a decade or so in the career field, is the satisfaction that comes from finding a crack. When Michalec was a tech school instructor, he encouraged his students by telling them, “Just wait until you find your first crack.” They don’t always find defects in the C-17 parts they inspect, which is obviously a good thing for the Air Force and the Airmen who fly the aircraft. But there is an adrenaline rush when they do.

Airman 1st Class Khalil Edmonson, 437th Maintenance Squadron non-destructive inspection journeyman, documents his work order request from maintenance inspectors inside of a C-17 Globemaster III on Feb. 18, 2015 at Joint Base Charleston, S.C. Edmonson and other technicians are required to document all maintenance encounters to ensure each work order can be read by maintainers assigned to the aircraft.

- See more at: http://airman.dodlive.mil/2015/08/c-17-health-care/#sthash.3afNMaAW.dpuf

Military Brothers: Eleven Brothers in One Family Choose Military Careers, Three Choose Air Force

MILITARY BROTHERS

Eleven brothers in one family choose military careers, three choose AF

BY RANDY ROUGHTON

27 July 2015

11 Davis brothers have served 164 years of dedicated service. (Courtesy photo)

On Ben and Hattie Davis’ farm in Wetumpka, Alabama, their 16 children learned the value of family and hard work. But they also learned they wanted something more for their own lives, a realization that led 11 sons into the military, including three who chose the Air Force. The service was an escape for Arguster, Eddie and Julius Davis, whether from a life of little promise in their small, central Alabama town during the 1950s or from an Army draft notice during wartime.
“I thought the farm life was hard at the time, but it taught us all great lessons like how hard work pays off,” Arguster said. “But that was the type of work none of us boys wanted to continue. The military was an escape for all of us boys. Our options were to stay and work on the farm, which we didn’t want to do, find a minimum wage job in the area where we lived, or try to move to some city where we didn’t know anybody. I think the military gave us the opportunity to earn money and grow up a little bit, to be out on our own, and was a great steppingstone for many of us. I know it was for me.”
The Davis brothers’ parents had one goal for their children – to finish high school, because their father didn’t make it past the third grade, and their mother only made it to the ninth grade. Each brother graduated, and three earned college degrees. Military careers made secondary education possible for several of them.

11 Davis brothers have served 164 years of dedicated servic(Courtesy photo #2)

The 11 brothers served a combined 158 years in the military, beginning with Ben Jr., now 88, who gave 33 years of service. Other than the three Airmen, seven served in the Army, including the late Washington Davis, and two had Navy careers. Edward, the second-oldest brother, became the family’s first Airman when he enlisted in 1951. Unlike his brothers, Edward lived his teen years with his natural mother and grandmother in Pittsburgh. After high school, he was working with the Pennsylvania Railroad and was trying to get into college when he enlisted in the Air Force to avoid getting drafted into the Army.
“We have one uncle who is a Pearl Harbor survivor, Thomas Davis, in Montgomery,” said Edward, now 85. “At the time I was going to (Elmore County Training School), he was in the Navy during World War II and came back to school. The little kids were so happy to see him. Little by little, as time went along with the situation in Alabama, the military became an option because for a lot of them, it was a matter of going to school or working on the farm. My thing was avoiding the Army because you hear of all that glory in the Air Force.”
Edward completed his certification in preventive medicine at the University of Denver in 1952 and left active duty in 1955. However, he continued his education on the GI Bill while in the Air Force Reserve until his unit was activated for the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1962. A year later,Edward joined the Army and served until his retirement in 1980. He worked for the U.S. Postal Service until 1994, when he worked part time with his wife in a funeral home in Pittsburgh until 2005.
In June 1964, Julius followed his brother into the Air Force and served for almost 12 years when he left as a technical sergeant in 1976. After high school, he had an opportunity for an academic scholarship at Alabama A&M University, but didn’t want to wait. He began his Air Force career in inventory management, but eventually became a procurement advisor, when he was selected for the job at the U.S. Air Force Academy.

11 Davis brothers have served 164 years of dedicated service. (Courtesy photo #3)

“It ended up being a family tradition, but we didn’t look at it that way,” said Julius, now 68 and living in Wellington, Florida, where he and his wife own an executive search firm for nuclear utilities. “Growing up in a small town in Alabama in the 1940s and 1950s, there were not many opportunities for black people. We didn’t look at it as a family tradition; it was just a way out. I told a couple of my brothers that I don’t know if any other family accomplished that, having that many brothers go into the military.”
Julius’ education also benefitted from his Air Force career. He used the GI Bill to earn a bachelor’s degree in business administration from California State University in Sacramento.
Even though the youngest Davis brother had seen 10 before him choose the military as an escape from life in Wetumpka, it wasn’t a foregone conclusion that Arguster would become the 11^th. He was the only brother to go directly to college when he attended Tuskegee Institute after his high school graduation in 1970. But when Arguster returned for the fall semester in 1971, he withdrew and moved to California. After having no luck finding work for three months, Arguster was inducted into the Air Force Nov. 1, 1971, and his first duty station was Carswell Air Force Base, Texas, in vehicle operations. He quickly learned the Air Force would help him reach his goal of returning to college.

11 Davis brothers have served 164 years of dedicated service. (Courtesy photo #4)

“After about six months there, I found out the Air Force had a tuition assistance program that paid 75 percent of tuition, and I jumped on that immediately,” the 62-year-old said. “I went to evening classes at (Texas Christian University), and they even provided noon classes on base.”
When Arguster left the Air Force four years later, he remained in the area so he could complete his bachelor’s degree in business management.
“So I actually squeezed eight years of living into six by doing four years of active duty and receiving a college degree, and I did all of that without touching my VA benefits,” he said. “I used those VA benefits to earn two associate degrees in auto mechanics and air conditioning and heating.”
Three years after leaving active duty, Arguster joined the Air Force Reserve and served another 19 years before he retired as a senior master sergeant in 1998. He and his wife, Linda, moved back to Alabama in McCalla near Birmingham after he retired from the U.S. Postal Service in 2009.
“Once we saw the ones ahead of us succeeding, we thought, ‘OK, that’s not too bad,’” he said. “You get a place to stay, free meals and clothing, the opportunity to travel, and you make money too. So what more could you ask for? I think the ones who went ahead of us paved the route for a better option to make our lives better.”

11 Davis brothers have served 164 years of dedicated service. (Courtesy photo #4)

As each brother began to earn money in the military, he picked a project to help the parents back in Wetumpka. The project may have been buying a new refrigerator, installing a bathroom, or putting gas in the house, Arguster said.
The brothers became closer after their father died in 1984, and the mother died in 2001. For years, they selected a destination where they could travel to meet and play golf. Five brothers still live in Alabama, including three who live only about two hours from Arguster in Montgomery.

11 Davis brothers have served 164 years of dedicated service. (Courtesy photo #5)

“We still all talk to one another,” he said. “Within a week’s time after we talk to one of our brothers, we all know how each one is doing, whether we talked to them or not. We really became closer after both of our parents passed. I think that is the way they would have wanted it.”
The brothers who chose the military, whether for a career or as a step in the right direction, remain proud of the decision they made as young adults.

- See more at: http://airman.dodlive.mil/2015/07/military-brothers/#sthash.PS9l6GON.dpuf