Please remember John C. Spahr, Lt Col., USMC, in your prayers this weekend. Colonel Spahr, call sign ˜Dukes, died 3 years ago today, over the skies of Iraq. He was a special guy to a lot of people. God must of had some important work to be done to call John home early.
Dukes died providing air cover for infantry Marines, over Baghdad:
At 7 p.m. 18 hours after Guardsman Anthony Wakefield was pronounced
dead John C. Spahr climbed the ladder onto the flight deck of USS Carl Vinson
and walked to his F/A-18 Hornet. Lance Corporal Lindsay, who did final
checks on Spahrs jet that evening, said he came out onto the flight
deck smiling and joking with his fellow marines. The ship is more than
a thousand feet long and can carry 5500 personnel; its motto Vis Per Mare,
˜Strength from the Sea. A major carrier is more like a floating town,
often surrounded with smaller ships serving as warehouses. Major Spahr
and his colleague Marine Captain Kelly Hinz had their orders: they
would fly into south-central Baghdad and support the marines on the
ground, many of whom were fighting insurgents and taking sniper fire.
Major Spahr was more than familiar with the journey. He had been the
first pilot to fly into Baghdad on the night of 21 March 2003 the
first of 1700 sorties flown by the US Air Force at the beginning of
the campaign called Shock and Awe. Launching from the aircraft carrier,
˜you go from about zero to 150 miles an hour in less than two seconds,
says Captain Daron Youngberg, a colleague of Spahr and Hinz. The pilots
left behind a series of signalmen scurrying on deck as each rose and
tilted their $55 million plane over the empty horizon. Other pilots
watched the pair ascend from the Carl Vinson: ˜There goes
Dukes, said one of them whom I later spoke to. ˜He was the best Top
Gun pilot of his generation, and what I would call a complete man, he
said.
I knew him as ˜Johnny and I met him when I was in high school. He was one of the few FOUR sport lettermen at St. Josephs Preparatory School, in Philadelphia. He started as quarterback, ahead of NFL great Rich Gannon, played varsity basketball, and in the spring he played baseball and rowed the single for the Prep Crew team (and won the National Schoolboy Rowing Championship). John was an older guy (by two years) so I looked up to him. As a sophomore sculler, I was tenuous on the water. John always took the time to slow down and ˜mentor me. Johnny was in his sleek racing single, I in my beginners practice boat. During my senior year, John made the trek from the Univeristy of Delaware to cheer us on in the Catholic League Championships. I can still see him beaming as I put on the first place medal. John Spahr had more athletic abilty then the whole crew team yet he was delighted for our personal success.
Like I said, they dont make men like Johnny too often.
John played quarterback for the University of Delaware football team. He was awarded a Masters degree in Physical Education from Delaware and started working with mentally challenged children. After a short while, John was accepted to Marine Corps Officer Candidate School. He was commissioned a Marine officer and assigned to Pensacola for Naval aviator training. He won the coveted ˜gold wings and was assigned to El Toro MCAS. I visited with him on his cross-country trip as he passed through Arizona, back in 1994. He hadnt changed. They called him ˜Dukes but he was the same old Johnny Spahr- pushing himself to be the best he could be.
That attitude served him well as a Marine. John completed and later instructed ˜Top Gun Naval Fighter Weapons School, at NAS Fallon, in Nevada. In 2004, I noticed his name in the San Diego Union-Tribune. I ran into a few Marine aviators in the Kearny Mesa post office, and queried if they knew John. I passed along my phone number to them. John called and we chatted about how we had to get together since we lived close to one another. He was headed over to Iraq for ˜a quick tour of duty so we made plans to get together when he returned.
I never saw Johnny again. I saw his mother, sisters Kelly, Sabrina, Tracy, and my friend, Steve (his brother), at Johns memorial service at MCAS Miramar, in May of 2005. The chapel was packed with Marines who served with John in Iraq. I pray for those men and women, daily.
My office is a few miles south of Miramar. I gaze out the window and watch those Hornets go to afterburner. The Marine aviators push the speed of sound, with their hair on fire. They remind me of Johnny Spahr¦
¦and I smile when I see them. In them, he lives with me forever.