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Officer Ryan's uniform fits loosely. His badge hangs heavy on his chest, and it looms rather largely on his small frame. He was just sworn in as a San Diego Police Officer this morning. After the swearing in ceremony he walks through headquarters and is congratulated by his new peers. Officer Ryan then makes his way toward his police car. Ryan can't drive though. He can't reach the pedals and he can't see over the dash. Officer Ryan is 9 years old. And he has brain cancer.
Jeremy Cleary from the San Diego Chargers is making one of Ryan's dreams come true. He is taking Ryan to be a Police Officer for the day. So Ryan and his dad are spending the day doing all the cool jobs that peace officers get to do. I was privelaged to be on duty.
Two police cars and an S.U.V. arrive at the Air Support hangar. Ryan is so frail his dad must carry him. I am a father. And as I see Ryan, my thoughts race straight toward my own children. My heart sinks deeper into my chest, and I am overwhelmed at how incredibly unfair it is that this little boy's life is in its final chapter, when his first one hasn't even been written yet. I gaze toward Ryan's father and I am amazed at his strength. He doesn't appear angry at God. He does not look defeated. He is with his son. Sharing his love.
He knows they will never play catch. He will never take his son camping. Ryan will not hold a diploma in his hand and cheer with his friends on graduation day. And he will never walk down the aisle to promise his love to another.
But Ryan's dad is stoic. And he will love Ryan with all his heart, for as long as he can. He is in every sense of the word, Ryan's pillar. And today, he is the reason there is only one set of footprints in the sand.
I did not have the honor of flying Ryan and his father. But I did have the honor of knowing them. However briefly. Looking at Ryan in his uniform and that huge, shiny gold badge; I could not help but think of the day I pinned on my own badge. And how when I finally earned my gold wings as an aviator, I felt taller than I have ever been.
I still have those same wings. I have been saving them for my children.
As Officer Ryan and his dad prepared to escape the surly bonds, I joined them for a moment. And when the cameras and celebrity walked away I paused to say my goodbyes. I told Ryan that very few people ever get to become Police Aviators. Out of 2,000 officers in my department, only 7 of us wear these wings. But Ryan would become number 8. I held the wings I have been saving for more than half a decade in the palm of my hand. The wings I would one day pin on one of my own children's chests. The very wings that I had strived to earn for twelve long years. But I knew Ryan had earned them more than I ever would. And those wings belonged with him now.
With trembling fingers I had the biggest honor of the day. I pinned gold wings on Officer Ryan's chest. Wings he will wear for too short a time. Wings he will wear until God gives him his real wings.
I went back to my office and closed the door for a little while. I thought about my children and how blessed we really are. I thought about Ryan and his dad. And I let it sink in for a bit before I would have to put those thoughts away so I could go safely fly.
Officer Phillip Cady (Pilot)
Click on a photo below to open a larger version
| AFE Celebrity Golf Tournament - May 18, 2009 |
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