A glimpse of tomorrow - my visit to the Air Force Academy

  • Published
  • By Senior Airman Sam Taylor
  • 436th Airlift Wing Public Affairs
U.S. Air Force Academy, Colo. -- --  Braced by a brisk early-morning breeze, I read from a pillar illuminated by rays of orange, purple and gold sunlight that poured over a Coloradoan mountain range: "Man's flight through life is sustained by the power of his knowledge."

The stately eagle that topped the pillar seemed to watch over the cadets of the U.S. Air Force Academy as they walked, or marched, to class. One of them, Cadet 3rd Class Calvin Llarena, my prior-enlisted cadet escort, beckoned me to follow him to class; we were running late.

"You enlisted guys walk so slowly," he said. "Maybe it's just a cadet thing."

We half-jogged across the snow-dusted Terrazzo toward Fairchild Hall - a hollow rectangular building with a modern facade of marble and aluminum that contained the classrooms - while underclassmen, travelling at a full jog, passed us by.

"Good morning cadet staff sergeant."
"Good morning."
"Good morning cadet staff sergeant."
"Good morning."

One thing I learned that morning was, apparently, people in Colorado don't breathe air. Perhaps they have gills, or some other physical adaptation that enables them to survive on 15 percent oxygen. Either way, I was sucking wind.

Not helpful was the two pounds of tasty food I had downed for breakfast in Mitchell Hall; it was my first substantial meal since I departed Dover Air Force Base, Del., the previous morning. As I mindlessly stuffed my face with bagels and fresh fruit, I scanned the day's schedule, provided to me by the folks in charge of the Leaders Encouraging Airman Development Program, which offers enlisted Airmen a chance to become Academy cadets. The first item on the agenda was Calculus II, which, based on the class I attended, should provide credits in both Mathematics and Foreign Language.

Have you ever had the experience of sitting in a room in which everyone is smarter than you? Like a child on "Bring Your Kid to Work Day," I sat in silent bewilderment as words like, "logarithm," went sailing over my head. As the class chuckled about something called, "ultraviolet-voodoo," I scribbled on the back of my folder, "GO TO PREP SCHOOL!"

I spoke to some of the students after class.
"So were you guys top of the class or what?"
"Yeah, I was valedictorian, Kevin was Salutatorian. What about you?"
"I was in a Led Zeppelin cover band."

* * *

"Good afternoon cadet staff sergeant; good afternoon Senior Airman Taylor."
"Good afternoon, good afternoon."

"Does that ever get old?" I asked Calvin, as we walked to the fitness center. "You get used - yes, good afternoon - you get used to it."

The Athletic Facility at the USAFA was designed to thwart any chance of finding an excuse to not work-out that day. "Well, dear, I would go work-out today, but I'm in the mood for judo and ice-skating and no gym in town..." - nope. That wouldn't work. Go ahead and try. The gymnasium is so extensive that I found some cadets who, had they not have gotten lost inside the labyrinth of rock-walls and racquetball courts, would have graduated with the class of 1968.

It was there that I confronted what I am dreading most about the USAFA: the swimming pool. I know - the academics are insanely rigorous, the military and athletic standards strict, and the human capital is first-rate - but when I saw the pool I was brought back to 2008 in San Diego when my buddies and I were sucked out to sea by a rip current.

Seeing my apparently-unconcealed fear, a swimming instructor approached and reassured me: "We teach guys who have never seen a pool to pass the swim test; don't worry about it."

I could have hugged that man. I didn't - I kept my cool, thanked him and rejoined our tour group - but something about having a person accept and understand your deepest fear can really put one at ease. I felt a bit better about taking that test.

* * *

I returned to the gym that evening with Calvin, who had invited me along to play volleyball with some fellow cadets.

"Calvin, I've never played volleyball before, are you sure?"
"Dude, we all suck, it's fine."

As I scored point after point (kidding; I am a scrub), I began to notice the "what ifs" pop into my head, as they had in months before.

"Those guys in class seemed really smart - what if you're not smart enough?" "This air is really thin - what if you're not in good enough shape?" "Your facing movements aren't what they used to be."

Several months ago, about the time Gen. Paul Selva, commander of Air Mobility Command, visited Dover AFB, I was besieged with another case of the "what ifs." So, during our all-call, I asked the general: "what advice can you give me?"

His answer, which I have since recited countless times, was, "whenever an opportunity presents itself, take it. Don't let the best moments in life pass you by because they appear difficult."

These words echoed through my head once more as I filled out the feedback questionnaire, on which a question asked if, after our visit, I was still determined to join the Academy. I checked "Yes."


In memory of Cadet 4th Class Jim Walsh.