9/11 is Here Again: We know our Captain Dahl.

United Captain Jason Dahl was a genius in terms of every switch on the 737.  He was a humanist, an friend and spirit among pilots for United.  United 93 on September 11, 2001 was not just another run.  It would be his bravest.  It enshrined him as an American national hero as well as all the passengers of that flight.

He knew he had a bad situation on board.  What he did not know was that they would soon invade him and slit his throat.  Most intelligence community saw the plane heading for the White House or the Capital.  It had its mission.  The bad guys were already flying the plane.

After being overcome by the terrorists, Captain Jason Dahl was awake enough to know what to do.  He heard passengers rushing the cockpit, but in his dying breaths, he and only he knew what could bring the plane down before it took more hundreds of lives....He had to make a decision that pilots or mortals should not have to make...

Captain Dahl was survived by Sandy his wife and his son, who graduated that year from U. of Colorado, Boulder, wearing his father's honorary doctoral hood.  CIBU was very honored that year to have Jason Dahl family members there with us, his sister, brother in law.....and friends

CIBU has honored a few national champions and national heroes.  It was never so proud to honor Jason Dahl, Captain, UAL, posthumously, in honor.  And his dear life friend Captain Mark Hoog, UAL Captain, who was the shepherd of this story for all of us.

This anniversary celebrates Captain Dahl for his life-giving bravery, and Captain Hoog as a friend Captain who reached out and could never touch again his friend who became his ideal.  It honors all pilots everywhere who hold human life in their hands and fingers on the stick or the throttle.

This story is a sacred part of American History.  Sandy Dahl died this year some say, of a broken heart.  Jason and Sandy, and Mark, our friends and family are with you and will ever treasure the heroism of you, Mark, for holding on, and holding on, and believing....your entire profession of pilots everywhere knows this story and you should be proud that you had the time with Jason and saw an American Hero, held him in your heart and take him with you.  To have such a friend is a great gift.

 

Baseball and Newspapers...

I work out every day at a major hotel in Seoul, swim and keep fit.  Gradually, I have been noticed as a nice guy and foreigner and have struck up friendships with some of my gym-mates....and the man at the concierge desk...you see, I need an English newspaper every day and it is part of my package, but sometimes its gone....over time, Mr. Choi know what that means to me and has saved every day for me.

The hotel is traditional, a gathering place in Seoul, this metro-global city.  Mr Choi is so kind and helpful.  One day I wanted to give him a very small tip for this courtesy and he refused.  I insisted.  It was very modest.  Over time, we talked and shared stories and it is even possible to say we became friends.

One afternoon lately he presented me with the newspaper.  I was with a close local professor friend.  Then, in a moment, came the Samsung Tigers professional baseball team in uniform through the lobby on their way to a KMLB baseball game.  I waved to players!  Had no idea what was to come....

Then in an instant, the main man, the last year all-Korea homerun king stood in front of us and my friend the concierge brought him a package.  He opened.  Two fresh new wood bats for the game that night.  My friend, the concierge, Mr. Choi, presented the bats with no less, no more respect than he gave me the daily newspaper.......
I asked for a photo with the player and got it.  I told him we need him at the San Diego Padres!

He noticed and said thank you, we shook hands and I have a now treasured photo....

My friend, the concierge, Mr. Choi,  is the actual subject of this essay.  He treated us the same, me and the home-run king...ultimate respect and professionalism....there is something in this story that runs deeper about Korea.  It is something that runs deep in Korea people....I am not sure I can put that in words, but I noticed that.  Thanks, Mr, Choi.  You are a window on Korea, yesterday, today, and tomorrow...

Home-run kings get bats....I get newspapers.  Mr. Choi helps our worlds so far apart and yet as close as a photo, right there

women must demonstrate...that their soft power prevails

standing beside every good man is a very good woman...she may be mother, sister, wife.
and he must stand beside her....
celebrate international womens day!

"Real Men" and Animals....

The most amazing thing happened last week in a small city in South Korea.  I was the guest of a university for the creation of a collaborative sister university relationship.  My hosts were fabulous and did the usual job of perfect hospitality.  After an amazing traditional luncheon, one of the young professors took me for a short tour by auto of this very historic place.  We walked and talked serious professional topics.  Most interesting to walk through a temple park dating back one thousand years and to talk 21st Century student culture and technology!

In the car ride back to the bullet train station, we approached an intersection with busy traffic.  There in the middle of the crossroads was a small brown Pomeranian dog.  Unattached to anyone, any car, just sitting there, shivering, looking at each car that went by, as if to say, "Come back, please, don't leave me here"

I spoke up.  My friend also saw him.  He commented, that some cruel people probably left him.  I looked back, the dog was just stationary, not moving out of the middle of traffic.

I took a deep breath.  Then I asked, for some unknown reason, if he also like animals.  He sighed and said "Yes" with a very heavy tone.  He told me he just lost his dog after 17 years.  He said he was incapacitated for a week, could not work, the dog was not an animal, but a friend and part of the family.

I said, "You have heart.  The same is with me.  I just lost a dog of 17 years as well."

Mine was also a Pomeranian.

I will never see that dog again, but will never let it go from my memory.  I had to give it to God to take care of it, find it a good home....not traffic.

"Real Men" have dogs.  Real men, lose dogs.  Real Men cry, and never forget these best friends.
Real men must go on.....an on.....

Life and Death on a Bike: Whiteflash Reminds Us

It was a very cold day in Seoul.  20 degrees Fahrenheit.  Colder North wind blowing strong.
I was crossing a very busy eight lane street at the intersection with another very busy eight lane, fast highway in the middle of downtown Seoul's Gangnam area.

I got halfway across to the safe pedestrian island, when I heard a crashing sound, a collision of two motor scooters at the intersection.  One of the bikers emerged safe and unshaken and looked back, then roared away.  I hestiated to look but did right back at the scene and saw the other biker skidding across the pavement, bike going one way on its side, the human biker like a log just rolling over and over on the pavement in deep, roaring traffic.  I honestly thought he was gone.  No movement, cars rushing past him on both sides.  He was limp, lying in the middle of one of Seoul's busiest crossings on a very cold, cold day.

No one stopped, no pedestrian lept forward to help, no one.  Cars just kept whizzing by.

I was still at the halfway point on a safe island just watching.  He started to move, then rolled over, then got up, blood on his forehead.  He managed to grab the scooter and walk it to the island, staggering all the way.  It was now right before me.  I could shake his hand it was now too close to just walk on by.  Then he collapsed right down at my feet.  I had wanted to pull him out of traffic, but now there was no choice....I had to help.  I asked him, "Can I help you?  How can I help you, Are you alright?"  Stupid questions.

He waved me off...."no Englishe", he said....he was in clear pain lying there.

Then another biker saw this and stopped and talked him to his feet.  He too cared.  He was the only other one.  He soon roared off into the cold day.  The wounded man was staggering but on his feet.  He waved me off again from any help.  This guy was young, in his late 20's I guess, handsome, as big as an NFL player, yet he almost was killed this day.

He would make it through this.  I made sure he got to the other side, then I had to be gone.  Nothing more to do, nothing more to help, I had done what I had to do.

Cold days like this and scenes like this at our feet remind us to go home and hug the ones we love and remember that life is a breath in the cold air, a split second from death, yet we somehow make it.  I will never see this man again, gone into the crowds of millions.  Yet I will see his face as long as I live.

Cold days we do all we can.  Sometimes it is enough, sometimes not.  This day, was a good day, all things considered.  For him and also for me....

Two Years Out....

Two years ago I read about Amy Ambrusco.  Her loss of her children.  I vowed to share my heart with the world of my contacts and friends.  Lots has happened.  I wrote a personal Mission Statement, thanks to Jeffrey Bennett.  I shared many personal stories.  I opened my heart.

Nothing bad happened, or happens when we share out heart.  But we become more open.  We are open in ways we do not even begin to understand.  One of them is love.

2012 will be a most challenging yet a most significant year for me where I make the most personal choices of my life and I still wish to devote myself to doing something of overall good where I have walked...

I still believe, we are not alone, and we are together with ALL we have loved, all our lives, whatever the trials and trails have been....

Everyone needs a mission statement, a personal mission statement, be it a vow to love an animal, a child, a partner, a company, an idea.  Let's remember Steve Jobs, always.  He challenged us to be ready to do our all out best in short days, if that is what is delivered.

On the positive, we love life and love and what bright horizons come...