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 lighting 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 backgrounding 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...

“Dr. Burch To Retire After 55 Years Of Local Service” was the headline I read on the front page of The Fulton Democrat . I was compelled to buy that newspaper, why? Let me tell you the rest of the story. Harry E. Burch, D.C. was my family's chiropractor since the early 1960s. A graduate of Palmer College of Chiropractic in Davenport, Iowa, in 1959. He opened his practice in Lewistown, Illinois less than 15 minutes from our home in Cuba. I met Dr. Burch in 1972 when one day at school I remember getting kicked in the seat of the pants by a kid just joking around. The next day my lower back hurt; I mentioned it to my Mom and without hesitation, she said “Let’s go see Doc Burch he’ll fix you right up.” He examined me patiently with practiced hands. “Lie down on your back, lift your left leg, now hold it,” he said. I could not. “Looks like we need an X-ray,” said Doc Burch. We watched him study the X-ray. “It appears you have something more than just misali...

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...