Skip to main content

Save the Museum

Podcast - Save the Museum . . .

You may have heard by now that the Flying Leatherneck Aviation Museum in San Diego, CA. is closing? What can you do to help?

Join the grassroots effort! Sign the Petition.

After more than 20 years of sharing the legacy and history of Marine Corps Aviation with local citizens and countless visitors to San Diego, California, the Flying Leatherneck Aviation Museum is scheduled to be permanently closed on March 31, 2021.

The Flying Leatherneck Aviation Museum shares Marine Corps Aviation history with visitors from around the world.

Visitors come for different reasons. Parents bring their children to see amazing aircraft and to hear stories of the brave men and women who maintained and flew these aircraft. Veterans come to see the aircraft that saved their lives. And still, others come to pay their respects to the aviators who served to protect our great nation.

Nevertheless, the leadership at Headquarters Marine Corps (HQMC) has decided to close the Museum.

This decision is particularly painful to countless veterans and citizens that value our celebrated Marine Corps Aviation history and support this unique, national treasure.

The non-profit organization that helps run the Museum, the Flying Leatherneck Historical Foundation, was told that this decision was based on financial considerations even though the Foundation Board volunteered to assume all operating and maintenance costs.

A great many people, including veterans who serve as volunteers at the museum, were stunned by this decision.

These brave men and women fought for our freedom; they fought alongside others who died for our freedom. And to see them brushed aside with an explanation that doesn’t make sense is heartbreaking.

As news of the museum’s plight has begun to circulate San Diegans and aviation enthusiasts around the globe are expressing their dissatisfaction and sorrow.

Please help us stand up for these honorable veterans and help protect the place where they can still share their stories, their humanity, and their wisdom. They fought for us. Let's fight for them.

You can contact HQMC and the Commandant of the Marine Corps and/or the Secretary of the Navy at the following addresses:

Commandant of the Marine Corps
Headquarters, US Marine Corps 3000 Marine Corps, Pentagon
Washington, DC 20350-3000

MARINE.MAIL.FCT@USMC.MIL


Office of the Secretary of the Navy

1000 Navy Pentagon, Room 4D652

Washington, DC 20350


https://www.navy.mil/Resources/Contact-Us/


Select: Public Inquiries (Navy Programs and Current Navy Issues)


The Flying Leatherneck Aviation Museum needs your voice of support now more than ever! Please take action today!

If you enjoy our weekly visits, please share them with a friend.

This is Patrick Ball, thanks for listening, see you in the next episode.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Miss Murphy

Most Popular of All Time

Paris – the End of Silence

✈️  In this special episode: Paris – the End of Silence Sometimes, connection arrives in the most unexpected form—not through grand gestures, but through a quiet voice carried by technology. In a Paris apartment, I finally understood my family’s words . . . and felt my mother’s presence in every sentence. Since I was a little boy, France has been both a beautiful and frustrating paradox in my life. Every six to nine years, my mother, Mauricette, would take my brothers and me back to La Rochelle to visit our French family. The moment we arrived, the air would fill with a sound I loved but couldn’t share in—the rapid-fire, musical rhythm of French. My aunts, uncles, and cousins would warmly sweep me into hugs and kisses, their words flowing like a lovely melody I couldn’t quite catch. I’d smile brightly, trying to communicate with my eyes and hands. But as soon as we stepped off the plane, my mother and her sister-in-law, Joséan, started talking animatedly. They were gone, chatting h...

Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment

In this episode, Noirmoutier: An Ocean Between Us, Gone in a Moment. Sometimes love waits half a century for its moment — and when it finally arrives, time doesn’t stand still; it disappears. The moment I stepped off the train in Nantes, it felt like time froze. There she was — my cousin Michèle — waiting on the platform, arms waving desperately. When we finally embraced, the fifty years that had passed between us disappeared in an instant. The melody in her voice was the same, but softer than I remembered. We both shed tears of joy that only come from love long overdue. “I’m so happy you are here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.   Thank goodness for the translation app on my phone, because the conversation began immediately — fast, fluid, and unstoppable. The Frenzy of Catching Up As we drove for about an hour to the tiny town of L’Épine on the Island of Noirmoutier, the words kept tumbling out. Michèle and her husband, Alain, are the most gracious hosts — but my new challe...

Patience – the Only First-Class Ticket

In this episode, Why Patience is the Only First-Class Ticket They say travel broadens the mind. After eight days sailing the Rhône with 140 fellow luxury vacationers, I can confirm it also tests patience, calf strength, buffet strategy, and one's tolerance for people furious that France insists on being French. Don't get me wrong—I adored this trip. The river shimmered like liquid optimism. The villages looked hand-painted. The pastries could negotiate world peace. But somewhere between Ship Horn Hello and Bon Voyage, we'd inadvertently boarded a floating behavioral research study disguised as a holiday. Our ship was less a cruise and more a ferry for the Sailors of Status. ⌚ The Wristwatch Wars Some passengers approached relaxation like yogis. Others treated leisure like a final exam with extra credit. I came to believe certain luxury watches emit ultrasonic signals that only their owners can detect. A frequency calibrated to trigger rapid movement toward any line forming...

Our Journey to Avignon

🇫🇷 Lost in Transition: Our Journey to Avignon (Part 1) When everything that can go wrong—does—sometimes grace still finds you. Our Monday morning trip began on the quiet island of Noirmoutier , where salt marshes and sea breezes whisper of simpler days. From there, our early morning drive was uneventful; we arrived at the Nantes station with plenty of time to spare. From Nantes to Paris Montparnasse, everything went smoothly—so we thought, until it didn't. That's when things started to unravel. If you've never traveled the Paris Metro , imagine a vast underground maze pulsing beneath the city—corridors twisting into one another, trains roaring in and out of the dark, staircases that rise and fall like riddles. It's efficient, yes—but only if you know where you're going. We had over an hour and a half to make our next train to Avignon —plenty of time. Or so we believed. We needed to reach the Gare de Lyon station, where our TGV (high-speed train) was headed south...