I’m only fifteen minutes away from Jones Beach, but I never attended an air show there.

I haven’t experienced a moving military air show since B-24s and B-29s flew in formation over my childhood backyard. I was eight or ten at the time; it was the post-World War II era, and America was still basking in the glow of its victory.

We’d stand in our Queens backyard and watch their V formations droning high in the sky. Wow! What a memorable feeling. I still recall those propeller-powered bombers. My sister married a B-24 crewman, who lived next door. He’s gone now, but he still lives on as a war hero in our family. His brother, a sailor, died fighting a fire on an aircraft.

So many veterans have lost their lives fighting for our freedom.

I salute them, today and every day that I enjoy my freedom.

But, it was about time I attended the Jones Beach Air Show.

I got a spot at the edge of the west parking lot, near the dunes. It was conveniently located near the restrooms, which was a needed plus these days.

But it was a good ten-minute walk over sand to the beach. Not so good. The aircraft fly mostly over the sea and the beach so I was at a disadvantage for my camera work on planes.

Sometimes I find a lot going on with those viewing the action of the day, so I watched for them.

Waiting for the show to start, some got into tailgate party fun.

I did get a pretty good shot of the restroom about to be strafed…

…but at the last minute, a diversion.

Up over the center parking lots, far from me, chutists put on their show:

An air disaster seemed inevitable, but it was also avoided.

There was soaring…

…and swooping.

Here’s a short video of the derring do:

The nearby spectators had a good laugh when they saw me turn to catch this fly by:

Finally, I went down to the beach…

…where there was much variety in the sky…

…on land…

…and sea:

It was a fun and loving atmosphere.

People posed for photos…

…even for me:

Planes buzzed boats:

Patriots from distant lands caught the action:

But it was the jets that caused the most excitement.

Their rumble reverberated…

…as a thumping in my chest.

The roar, the awe, pulsed adrenaline through my body.

One jet seemed to be surfing the skies:

My camera and I can’t hope to bring you the experience of being there.

But eyes widened at the precision flying.

The sounds and sights took me back to my days in a Marine artillery battery near the edge of the airstrip at Guantanamo Bay (GTMO). During the Cuban Missile Crisis, one incoming cargo plane crashed and exploded. That was also a memorable event.

But this show also took me to those pre-teen years, those backyard years, those years of innocence. Sights and sounds echo differently in us all.

It’s about context.

Today, others on this tiny blue planet feel terror at sounds from the skies, the rockets, bombs, and drones that will take their homes. The armaments that will kill their spouses and their children.

What does a roar from the sky cause their chests to feel? Do they stand in backyards of endless droning dread?

Sure, I’m happy we live among the brave and the free. And it is this power that protects you and me.

Incredible ingenuity is what has given us such protection. But where is humankind’s ingenuity to find ways to obviate the need for such power? Yes, I know, the answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind. But maybe, if we all really want to, we can catch it.

Maybe if we think of our tiny blue planet more as our common domicile, a community of backyards, the family of humankind might find a way out of our domestic violence.

Here, on this Long Island beach, it’s easy to see that America remains a fantastic melting pot. We have such a rich mix of origins.

We don’t have a Memorial Day for the civilian dead in wars. Some consider them collateral damage.

But they are us.

Maybe when we stand and feel the thunder of jets, the power, the pride they project, we might think of other backyards in our home, in our global community. And feel what they feel about air power, about rockets, bombs, drones— and their homes, their families—all that holds joy for any human being.

Be well,

Leebythesea