On The Fly

On January 24, 2015, at 1:08 p.m. Donald Lee Ball, my Dad, made the transition to heaven. He was a devoted husband, father of four, grandfather to seven, and yes, a great-grandfather to four healthy babies. He loved his family and nature’s bounty. He was always active, an athlete, and an outdoorsman. A mans-man who taught his children to work hard, be honest, and treasure family values. His spirit (our gift) lives in all the people he touched.  My best memory of my father was his love of baseball. Not spring training or a visit to a major league ballpark, nor was it meeting a famous ballplayer. For me, it was learning to catch lightning and field line drives with my Dad. My attention was not on major league baseball (see, A Budding Cubs Fan ) as a youngster. The game, at that level, was always background noise from an old transistor radio tuned to WGN Chicago. In Cuba, Illinois baseball fans chewed on one another every season over the battle between the Chicago Cubs and the S...

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active. We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update. But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece. The Kick That Changed Everything It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys. "Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up." Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room s...

Let me take you back to the days when “MaBell” dominated how you communicated with distant family and friends. I’d venture to say your primary means was a rotary dial telephone, undoubtedly a party line, some had to crank, attached to the wall in your home. Getting social meant the neighbors were listening in to your phone conversations. How times have changed! Today’s pilot can communicate with their friends and former squadron mates worldwide on a variety of devices. A cellphone, laptop computer, tablet, smartphone, or a television connected to your home WiFi network. Social media, via the internet, provides a much broader range of options. Thousands communicate daily from a visit to a museum, a video segment from an airshow, or post a compelling story shared with a veteran.  For our patrons, it all begins at the Foundation’s website . This is the launch point for all our public activities, educational outreach, and social media outlets. We’re proud to report our activ...