Have you ever had to say goodbye to someone and know it may be the last time you see them.  We've been studying Paul's journeys and I was reminded of one of those times I said "Goodbye" to Ken.
The verse that reminded me was Acts 20: 25, 38--when Paul was leaving Ephesus to go to Jerusalem--where he knew he would be in danger.  "I know that you all shall see my face no more." Paul told them.  "Sorrowing, for the words he spoke, that they would see his face no more, they accompanied him to the ship."

I put Ken on a plane in Tulsa, to go back to California and embark for Viet Nam.  So many of our friends had been killed, and a number of other pilots we knew had been captured and were in Hanoi Hilton.  As I waited for him to board the plane, I knew that I might not see him again.  The odds were not good--doing what he was getting ready to do.  And I knew Ken's personality.  I knew that when it came time to assign missions, that if they were particularly difficult, he would assign himself.  He had already fought in a war, Korea, had over one hundred missions under fire, and been hit 7 times.  He would weigh his experience against sending some rookie, and take the mission.  Actually, I would have expected nothing less.  It's the kind of man he was.

When it was time for him to leave, told him I loved him and watched his back as he walked down the aisle to the plane.  For the next 13 months all I could do was pray.  I knew his letters would be upbeat, and not tell me anything bad--that if he shared something it would be humorous.

On one mission, he got hit and he knew I would hear about it, so he wrote, "I took a mission to hit a loud speaker that was harassing our ground troops.  It was small, I knew I could get it.  As I was coming in at 50 feet going (mock something), I leaned forward in the seat to pull back on the stick and pull out.  As I leaned forward, I took a 50 millimeter through the cockpit directly behind my head.  Destroyed the canopy--which disintegrated--I thought at first it was smoke.  If I had been sitting upright it would have cleaned the wax out of both of my ears.  I got the plane back, not knowing if the ejection seat had been damaged or was functional.  Hoping I wouldn't need it. I kept arming it in case I needed to eject, then disarming it for fear in had been damaged and would fire me accidentally.  I did that all the way back to base.  I didn't have to find out.  I landed it. (Thank God.)