Thanks, Dave W, for your suggestion. Here it is:
Do you remember that 1960s American TV sitcom named “My Three Sons”? You probably don’t. Here’s a clip: My Three Sons.
Do you remember that 1960s American TV sitcom named “My Three Sons”? You probably don’t. Here’s a clip: My Three Sons.
William Frawley played the role of “Bub.” Frawley was better known as “Fred” in “I Love Lucy.” (Surely
you are familiar with that one—with all its re-runs.)
Somehow in the annals of history, my dad, Hayes Watson
Cockrell, collected the moniker “Bub”
from that TV series.I don't think he was happy with it, but he didn't complain.
He served aboard the USS Alsea (ATF-97) in WW2 as an
electrician’s mate. But before he went to sea he served a few months as a clerk
in the pilot records office at Pensacola Naval Air Station. There the commander
took a liking to him and invited him to go on flights in SNJ trainers. Bub once told me they referred to the SNJs as
“Stuka Nuka Javas.” One day the CO asked
my dad if he would like to enroll in the Naval Aviation Cadet Program. He
declined. In later years I asked him why he passed up that opportunity. He just
shrugged and said he wasn’t sure of it.
SNJ |
His service aboard ship was mostly uneventful except for
watching torpedo wakes go by headed for larger targets than the Alsea. His most
repeated story was of timing shells going overhead from battleships to the Normandy
coast at D-Day.
After the war he married Helen and enrolled in electrical
engineering. But when I came along he dropped out. After two aborted attempts
to be a law enforcement officer he settled into a vocation that the Navy taught
him—electrician, at which he was very successful. Motivated by his interest in
airplanes that had captured him at Pensacola he used the GI Bill to learn to
fly.
When I turned six
he deemed me airworthy and took me down the Black Warrior River in a Piper
Super Cub with the wheels only few feet off the water. (He was far from a
perfect man and so was his judgement at times.) Of course I loved every second
of it. Later he became a pilot with the Civil Air Patrol (CAP) and flew many
search missions for lost aircraft. His involvement in CAP was my impetus to
becoming a CAP cadet, which launched my career as a military and airline pilot.
Bub wasn’t there when I first soloed at the age of 16. I
don’t remember why, but suspect my instructor simply didn’t notify him that it
was going tom happen. Later that day I joined up with him at the river for some
fishing, and I don’t even remember what he said about my solo flight. I think
he just considered it something that was simply destined to happen.
I remember him once telling me that his flight instructor
went on to become the chief pilot at Southern Airways, which eventually merged
with Republic and then Delta. One day he crossed paths with his old instructor and
they caught up. The instructor told Bub he would be glad to set him up with a
pilot candidate interview at Southern.
“Did you?” I asked.
He just shook his head and sighed. He said he wasn’t sure
about it.
Eventually he dropped out of flying as his family grew.
Yet to the day of his losing consciousness I think he considered himself still
a pilot. In the U.S. a pilot’s license never expires unless it is revoked. Only
the medical certificate and the logbook currency expires.
He was a bit disappointed that I went to the USAF instead
of the Navy, which he stayed with as a reservist for another 30 years as a
Chief Petty Officer. But he always saluted me.
I respected his work ethic and devotion to family and
country, but I resolved not to make his mistakes. I seized opportunity when it
presented itself and when it didn’t, I knocked its door in. I was the success
he imagined he never achieved. His other kids did well too.
And in that respect he was a victorious achiever.