Docents Corner

Fall, 2002

I park my old Mustang under the wing of the aging C-130; propel my young 71-year-old body across 200 yards of desert, past the ancient Douglas B-18 and through the doors of the 390th Bombardment Group (H) Memorial Museum. For the 136th time. For almost 3 years. About 1000 hours. Maybe I'm due a 3-year pin, a 1000-hour certificate, and a new medallion for my old hat. Nope, I know better. No pot metal rewards for your volunteer. But! But! The reward is there! There, in the Guest Register for all (me) to read. My report card.

"We're so glad you came, so sorry you lost so many"---Yorkshire, England

"Can't imagine what they went through"--- England

"Looking for my grandfather. Found him !"---Anonymous

And more. See below. Now, again, I know. I know why we all troop in here 7 days a week, year 'round. To convert the technology of maps, displays, seemingly endless crew photos, our gorgeous "I'll Be Around" into understanding, appreciation, and reactions like these. So, I'll continue to park the aging Mustang under the graying C-130 and trudge into this inspiring Memorial for 136 more times. It needs us. We (I) need it.

Bob Ginn