Flying

Dear Phyllis,

Looking back on my life. The military was only a very short blip, but it set the tone for the rest of my life. When I took my physical for induction in the Aviation Cadet Corps, the flight surgeon said to me, “I believe you are the type of man the Air Force is looking for”. Indeed it was a good marriage. I enjoyed the military very much and had a good reputation. After my five years of flying I got out of the military, but the military never got out of me. When I first was married I thought marriage was like the military; I was the Commander, my wife was the First Sergeant, and children were the enlisted men. Rosemary had never been in the military. Ironically, she had a different concept and didn't agree with my view.

My life in that career was definitely an unusual act of God. For the first 17 years of my life I had a very strong anti-military attitude and said, “I never want to be soldier”. But during the summer between my high school graduation and entering college in Michigan I got a general letter from the Air Force ROTC program offering young men an opportunity of spending one hour a week attending a ROTC class, and upon graduation, being commissioned as an officer in the Air Force and the opportunity to go into pilot training. Being a jet pilot suddenly appealed to me very much and I applied for ROTC. That was great. But during my junior and senior year at Michigan I had six weeks of summer camp where I went to an Air Force base to play soldier big time. I went to that camp with a chip on my shoulder thinking I was God's gift to the military and got it cleaned off in a big way. That camp was the turning point of my life. I realized I had serious problems that a piece of paper would not help. I had grown up totally undisciplined and knew the best correction was severe military training. That summer I had learned of an unusual program of Aviation Cadets that offered young men the opportunity to go directly from civilian life into pilot training. It was very selective, difficult to get into, and considerably more difficult to complete; but it looked great. I applied for Cadets and was inducted on my birthday 30 December 1956.

I did very well in pilot training but with little credit to myself. The biggest event was when I was saved the first summer in 1957. Needless to say, that was the termination of one life and the inauguration of a totally different life. From there on Jesus took over and everything that has happened since then has all been His doing. Jesus did very well in pilot training. I had several flights where it was like He was sitting in the front seat and I was the passenger. One night when I was in jet school we had night landings. There were about 30 aircraft going around in a circle making touch and go landings. In flying there is such a thing as being behind the aircraft. Either you are in control of the aircraft or the bird is out in front and you are responding to it. On one approach I messed up real bad. The bird was nearly out of control. It was horrific. My airspeed so so low I was a hair from death. I was panic struck trying to catch up; coming in with full power, desperately trying to keep from falling out of the sky. Miraculously I was able to just make it up to the landing line in front of mobile control, and had the power for a go-around. As I was on lift off mobile control called saying, “Aircraft on the go, identity yourself”. I replied, “This is Cougar 38”. Mobile came back, “Cougar, that was beautiful”. When we came in hanging up our parachutes the other guys said, “Cook, what in the world did you do? We were all out there killing ourselves trying to make good landings and you were the only one all night to get praised like that.” I'm sure it was unusual. No one else flew final two knots above stall speed carrying full power, sinking, to touch down exactly on the landing line.

It is universally accepted that fighter pilots are a special breed of men. By DNA I have always enjoyed that type of life. It was my ambition to be the worst of the worst until I got saved. After that it has always been my ambition to raise the flag of Jesus as high as possible. There was a terrific shock that went through the Fight'n 40^th Fighter Squadron when I first checked in at Yokota, Japan. A friend later told me how a fellow pilot went to him in horror saying, “Cook has a Bible!”, He replied, “What's wrong with that? A lot of us have Bibles.” “Yes, but Cook reads his Bible.” It was almost a contradiction of terms to have a Christ-honoring Christian fighter pilot. The typical image is to be a hard drinking wild individual. Actually a lot of fellow pilots were decent family men but I took a hard stand to avoid drinking social activities. This was a running battle for three years. At one point the Operation officer took me aside and forcefully said, “Cook, if you don't straighten up the Air Force doesn't need men like you.” The Lord marvelously blessed my flying and I had the reputation of being one of the best pilots in the squadron Flying was one of the few things in life in which I have done well. But the pressure was always on over my stand for Christ.

The Lord had spoken to me about leaving military service and go into full time mission work. I was on indefinite status, which meant I had no date of discharge, but after five years I could apply for release; that may or may not be granted. I had just been checked out in the latest F-102 and was near the peak of my flying. One night I was on night alert when my flight commander told me when I got off the next morning to go to the base hospital as I had an appointment to see the doctor. “What's wrong? I feel fine.” “I can't tell you but make sure you are there by 9:00 AM. The Lord told me what it was and I wasn't too surprised when the flight surgeon told me he had had a bad report about me and was subjecting me to a mental exam. He said, “Go back to your squadron and you are now checked out on leave. We want to keep this off your military record.” That was flat illegal, but what he really meant was they wanted to keep it off their record. The mental exam was ridiculous and by any standard was a complete farce. But after two brief times with two shrinks (one was a nut case) the head flight surgeon called me in saying they weren't finished yet but he was taking action to have me grounded and gave me a certificate that I was latent schizophrenic. That event is a very long story by itself, but I simply mention this to say that this was the way the Lord got me out of flying.

Ironically, after I was grounded I was forced to take a job as an Adjutant officer where I was the ranking officer over 1000 men, and all I did was run the office and talk to men about personal problems. I didn't like flying a desk but that was the best job I ever had in the Air Force. I was grateful when the Major over me came to me as I was leaving saying, “Bill, when you first came here I had very low expectation. I have known a lot of fighter pilots and they are all the same. But you have done an excellent job and the Air Force is loosing a very good man with your departure. I wish you were staying”

I only had one problem when I was in the office as Adjutant Officer. One night the Major told me, “There will be a party at the Cornell's home Saturday night and you are expected to be there.” I replied, “I'm sorry, sir, but I don't go to parties.” He looked at me sternly and said, “This is not an invitation. This is an order.” I looked at him and quietly replied. “Sir, I'm sorry but I already have a certificate that I am crazy.” He shrugged his shoulders and knew that I had high card. It is a wonderful thing when we burn the bridge between the world and ourselves. It has no more attraction to us.

Last Monday I went to a doctor and had a biopsy on my eye. I really like the doctor and asked him what he thought about my eye. “What are the chances of a malignancy?” I was surprised when he said, he would have to wait for the lab report but said the chance was 50-50. I felt very strongly that the biopsy was the will of God. This looks like a real win-win situation. There is a 50% chance that I might get a long awaited exit visa from this world to go to be with Jesus and many of my friends, and there is a 50% chance that he might be able to fix my eye to restore vision in both eyes. This looks pretty good to me.

Thank you for your prayers, bill

Deleted. Ctrl + Z to Undo.

Dear Phyllis,

Looking back on my life. The military was only a very short blip, but it set the tone for the rest of my life. When I took my physical for induction in the Aviation Cadet Corps, the flight surgeon said to me, “I believe you are the type of man the Air Force is looking for”. Indeed it was a good marriage. I enjoyed the military very much and had a good reputation. After my five years of flying I got out of the military, but the military never got out of me. When I first was married I thought marriage was like the military; I was the Commander, my wife was the First Sergeant, and children were the enlisted men. Rosemary had never been in the military. Ironically, she had a different concept and didn't agree with my view.

My life in that career was definitely an unusual act of God. For the first 17 years of my life I had a very strong anti-military attitude and said, “I never want to be soldier”. But during the summer between my high school graduation and entering college in Michigan I got a general letter from the Air Force ROTC program offering young men an opportunity of spending one hour a week attending a ROTC class, and upon graduation, being commissioned as an officer in the Air Force and the opportunity to go into pilot training. Being a jet pilot suddenly appealed to me very much and I applied for ROTC. That was great. But during my junior and senior year at Michigan I had six weeks of summer camp where I went to an Air Force base to play soldier big time. I went to that camp with a chip on my shoulder thinking I was God's gift to the military and got it cleaned off in a big way. That camp was the turning point of my life. I realized I had serious problems that a piece of paper would not help. I had grown up totally undisciplined and knew the best correction was severe military training. That summer I had learned of an unusual program of Aviation Cadets that offered young men the opportunity to go directly from civilian life into pilot training. It was very selective, difficult to get into, and considerably more difficult to complete; but it looked great. I applied for Cadets and was inducted on my birthday 30 December 1956.

I did very well in pilot training but with little credit to myself. The biggest event was when I was saved the first summer in 1957. Needless to say, that was the termination of one life and the inauguration of a totally different life. From there on Jesus took over and everything that has happened since then has all been His doing. Jesus did very well in pilot training. I had several flights where it was like He was sitting in the front seat and I was the passenger. One night when I was in jet school we had night landings. There were about 30 aircraft going around in a circle making touch and go landings. In flying there is such a thing as being behind the aircraft. Either you are in control of the aircraft or the bird is out in front and you are responding to it. On one approach I messed up real bad. The bird was nearly out of control. It was horrific. My airspeed so so low I was a hair from death. I was panic struck trying to catch up; coming in with full power, desperately trying to keep from falling out of the sky. Miraculously I was able to just make it up to the landing line in front of mobile control, and had the power for a go-around. As I was on lift off mobile control called saying, “Aircraft on the go, identity yourself”. I replied, “This is Cougar 38”. Mobile came back, “Cougar, that was beautiful”. When we came in hanging up our parachutes the other guys said, “Cook, what in the world did you do? We were all out there killing ourselves trying to make good landings and you were the only one all night to get praised like that.” I'm sure it was unusual. No one else flew final two knots above stall speed carrying full power, sinking, to touch down exactly on the landing line.

It is universally accepted that fighter pilots are a special breed of men. By DNA I have always enjoyed that type of life. It was my ambition to be the worst of the worst until I got saved. After that it has always been my ambition to raise the flag of Jesus as high as possible. There was a terrific shock that went through the Fight'n 40^th Fighter Squadron when I first checked in at Yokota, Japan. A friend later told me how a fellow pilot went to him in horror saying, “Cook has a Bible!”, He replied, “What's wrong with that? A lot of us have Bibles.” “Yes, but Cook reads his Bible.” It was almost a contradiction of terms to have a Christ-honoring Christian fighter pilot. The typical image is to be a hard drinking wild individual. Actually a lot of fellow pilots were decent family men but I took a hard stand to avoid drinking social activities. This was a running battle for three years. At one point the Operation officer took me aside and forcefully said, “Cook, if you don't straighten up the Air Force doesn't need men like you.” The Lord marvelously blessed my flying and I had the reputation of being one of the best pilots in the squadron Flying was one of the few things in life in which I have done well. But the pressure was always on over my stand for Christ.

The Lord had spoken to me about leaving military service and go into full time mission work. I was on indefinite status, which meant I had no date of discharge, but after five years I could apply for release; that may or may not be granted. I had just been checked out in the latest F-102 and was near the peak of my flying. One night I was on night alert when my flight commander told me when I got off the next morning to go to the base hospital as I had an appointment to see the doctor. “What's wrong? I feel fine.” “I can't tell you but make sure you are there by 9:00 AM. The Lord told me what it was and I wasn't too surprised when the flight surgeon told me he had had a bad report about me and was subjecting me to a mental exam. He said, “Go back to your squadron and you are now checked out on leave. We want to keep this off your military record.” That was flat illegal, but what he really meant was they wanted to keep it off their record. The mental exam was ridiculous and by any standard was a complete farce. But after two brief times with two shrinks (one was a nut case) the head flight surgeon called me in saying they weren't finished yet but he was taking action to have me grounded and gave me a certificate that I was latent schizophrenic. That event is a very long story by itself, but I simply mention this to say that this was the way the Lord got me out of flying.

Ironically, after I was grounded I was forced to take a job as an Adjutant officer where I was the ranking officer over 1000 men, and all I did was run the office and talk to men about personal problems. I didn't like flying a desk but that was the best job I ever had in the Air Force. I was grateful when the Major over me came to me as I was leaving saying, “Bill, when you first came here I had very low expectation. I have known a lot of fighter pilots and they are all the same. But you have done an excellent job and the Air Force is loosing a very good man with your departure. I wish you were staying”

I only had one problem when I was in the office as Adjutant Officer. One night the Major told me, “There will be a party at the Cornell's home Saturday night and you are expected to be there.” I replied, “I'm sorry, sir, but I don't go to parties.” He looked at me sternly and said, “This is not an invitation. This is an order.” I looked at him and quietly replied. “Sir, I'm sorry but I already have a certificate that I am crazy.” He shrugged his shoulders and knew that I had high card. It is a wonderful thing when we burn the bridge between the world and ourselves. It has no more attraction to us.

Last Monday I went to a doctor and had a biopsy on my eye. I really like the doctor and asked him what he thought about my eye. “What are the chances of a malignancy?” I was surprised when he said, he would have to wait for the lab report but said the chance was 50-50. I felt very strongly that the biopsy was the will of God. This looks like a real win-win situation. There is a 50% chance that I might get a long awaited exit visa from this world to go to be with Jesus and many of my friends, and there is a 50% chance that he might be able to fix my eye to restore vision in both eyes. This looks pretty good to me.

Thank you for your prayers, bill

Deleted. Ctrl + Z to Undo.

9 June 2019

Dear Phyllis,

Looking back on my life. The military was only a very short blip, but it set the tone for the rest of my life. When I took my physical for induction in the Aviation Cadet Corps, the flight surgeon said to me, “I believe you are the type of man the Air Force is looking for”. Indeed it was a good marriage. I enjoyed the military very much and had a good reputation. After my five years of flying I got out of the military, but the military never got out of me. When I first was married I thought marriage was like the military; I was the Commander, my wife was the First Sergeant, and children were the enlisted men. Rosemary had never been in the military. Ironically, she had a different concept and didn't agree with my view.

My life in that career was definitely an unusual act of God. For the first 17 years of my life I had a very strong anti-military attitude and said, “I never want to be soldier”. But during the summer between my high school graduation and entering college in Michigan I got a general letter from the Air Force ROTC program offering young men an opportunity of spending one hour a week attending a ROTC class, and upon graduation, being commissioned as an officer in the Air Force and the opportunity to go into pilot training. Being a jet pilot suddenly appealed to me very much and I applied for ROTC. That was great. But during my junior and senior year at Michigan I had six weeks of summer camp where I went to an Air Force base to play soldier big time. I went to that camp with a chip on my shoulder thinking I was God's gift to the military and got it cleaned off in a big way. That camp was the turning point of my life. I realized I had serious problems that a piece of paper would not help. I had grown up totally undisciplined and knew the best correction was severe military training. That summer I had learned of an unusual program of Aviation Cadets that offered young men the opportunity to go directly from civilian life into pilot training. It was very selective, difficult to get into, and considerably more difficult to complete; but it looked great. I applied for Cadets and was inducted on my birthday 30 December 1956.

I did very well in pilot training but with little credit to myself. The biggest event was when I was saved the first summer in 1957. Needless to say, that was the termination of one life and the inauguration of a totally different life. From there on Jesus took over and everything that has happened since then has all been His doing. Jesus did very well in pilot training. I had several flights where it was like He was sitting in the front seat and I was the passenger. One night when I was in jet school we had night landings. There were about 30 aircraft going around in a circle making touch and go landings. In flying there is such a thing as being behind the aircraft. Either you are in control of the aircraft or the bird is out in front and you are responding to it. On one approach I messed up real bad. The bird was nearly out of control. It was horrific. My airspeed so so low I was a hair from death. I was panic struck trying to catch up; coming in with full power, desperately trying to keep from falling out of the sky. Miraculously I was able to just make it up to the landing line in front of mobile control, and had the power for a go-around. As I was on lift off mobile control called saying, “Aircraft on the go, identity yourself”. I replied, “This is Cougar 38”. Mobile came back, “Cougar, that was beautiful”. When we came in hanging up our parachutes the other guys said, “Cook, what in the world did you do? We were all out there killing ourselves trying to make good landings and you were the only one all night to get praised like that.” I'm sure it was unusual. No one else flew final two knots above stall speed carrying full power, sinking, to touch down exactly on the landing line.

It is universally accepted that fighter pilots are a special breed of men. By DNA I have always enjoyed that type of life. It was my ambition to be the worst of the worst until I got saved. After that it has always been my ambition to raise the flag of Jesus as high as possible. There was a terrific shock that went through the Fight'n 40^th Fighter Squadron when I first checked in at Yokota, Japan. A friend later told me how a fellow pilot went to him in horror saying, “Cook has a Bible!”, He replied, “What's wrong with that? A lot of us have Bibles.” “Yes, but Cook reads his Bible.” It was almost a contradiction of terms to have a Christ-honoring Christian fighter pilot. The typical image is to be a hard drinking wild individual. Actually a lot of fellow pilots were decent family men but I took a hard stand to avoid drinking social activities. This was a running battle for three years. At one point the Operation officer took me aside and forcefully said, “Cook, if you don't straighten up the Air Force doesn't need men like you.” The Lord marvelously blessed my flying and I had the reputation of being one of the best pilots in the squadron Flying was one of the few things in life in which I have done well. But the pressure was always on over my stand for Christ.

The Lord had spoken to me about leaving military service and go into full time mission work. I was on indefinite status, which meant I had no date of discharge, but after five years I could apply for release; that may or may not be granted. I had just been checked out in the latest F-102 and was near the peak of my flying. One night I was on night alert when my flight commander told me when I got off the next morning to go to the base hospital as I had an appointment to see the doctor. “What's wrong? I feel fine.” “I can't tell you but make sure you are there by 9:00 AM. The Lord told me what it was and I wasn't too surprised when the flight surgeon told me he had had a bad report about me and was subjecting me to a mental exam. He said, “Go back to your squadron and you are now checked out on leave. We want to keep this off your military record.” That was flat illegal, but what he really meant was they wanted to keep it off their record. The mental exam was ridiculous and by any standard was a complete farce. But after two brief times with two shrinks (one was a nut case) the head flight surgeon called me in saying they weren't finished yet but he was taking action to have me grounded and gave me a certificate that I was latent schizophrenic. That event is a very long story by itself, but I simply mention this to say that this was the way the Lord got me out of flying.

Ironically, after I was grounded I was forced to take a job as an Adjutant officer where I was the ranking officer over 1000 men, and all I did was run the office and talk to men about personal problems. I didn't like flying a desk but that was the best job I ever had in the Air Force. I was grateful when the Major over me came to me as I was leaving saying, “Bill, when you first came here I had very low expectation. I have known a lot of fighter pilots and they are all the same. But you have done an excellent job and the Air Force is loosing a very good man with your departure. I wish you were staying”

I only had one problem when I was in the office as Adjutant Officer. One night the Major told me, “There will be a party at the Cornell's home Saturday night and you are expected to be there.” I replied, “I'm sorry, sir, but I don't go to parties.” He looked at me sternly and said, “This is not an invitation. This is an order.” I looked at him and quietly replied. “Sir, I'm sorry but I already have a certificate that I am crazy.” He shrugged his shoulders and knew that I had high card. It is a wonderful thing when we burn the bridge between the world and ourselves. It has no more attraction to us.

Last Monday I went to a doctor and had a biopsy on my eye. I really like the doctor and asked him what he thought about my eye. “What are the chances of a malignancy?” I was surprised when he said, he would have to wait for the lab report but said the chance was 50-50. I felt very strongly that the biopsy was the will of God. This looks like a real win-win situation. There is a 50% chance that I might get a long awaited exit visa from this world to go to be with Jesus and many of my friends, and there is a 50% chance that he might be able to fix my eye to restore vision in both eyes. This looks pretty good to me.

Thank you for your prayers, bill