Last week Dave and I took at three hour drive which took us about 185 miles in distance and 40 years into our past.
Virginia Beach was our home for a combined total of 24 years. NAS Oceana was Dave’s first permanent Naval duty station and he retired from active duty while we lived there. Both of our children were born there, started school and graduated from high school there. As for me, I was what we called the CINC-HOME – Commander in Chief of the Home. In many ways, Virginia Beach is our “hometown.”
The purpose of our trip was to use up time-share points that were due to expire at the end of the month and visit as many friends as possible. Since the time-share resorts are down at the oceanfront, that’s where we were headed.
It might be hard to believe is but in all the years we lived in Virginia Beach, we almost never ventured down to the commercial oceanfront. There are beaches for military families on a few of the bases, so that is where we spent our beach time. So, spending several nights within walking distance of the beach was new to us.
Not long after we checked in to our room and unpacked, we decided to take a walk to the boardwalk and find someplace to eat. It had been a long, late afternoon drive through early rush hour traffic and the tunnel had been back up for a few miles so we both needed to stretch our legs and decompress. The season hadn’t started yet so there weren’t that many people out and about, the beach was pretty much empty. As we walked up the boardwalk, multi storied hotels were to our left and the ocean to our right. My first impression was of how foreign it all seemed. For a moment I wondered if we’d made a mistake by choosing to stay down there instead of with friends. I was tired, hungry and a tad cranky.
Then, I saw something that made me feel very much at home – the Naval Aviation Monument which sits at intersection of 25th Street and Atlantic Avenue, by the Norwegian Lady. The six bronze monuments tell the story of Naval Aviation history, beginning with Eugene Ely’s first flight from the deck of the USS Birmingham to present day Naval Aviation.
Along with the statues honoring the men and women who have served as Naval aviators as well as memorials to two of the now retired Navy jets and the squadrons who flew them; the A-6 and the F-4. When we arrived at the beach in 1981, Dave was newly assigned to VA 75, “The Sunday Punchers”, an A-6 squadron. Seeing the names of so many of his squadron mates and friends etched along its base brought back memories of our life when, in our twenties, we were just starting out on our journey.
In those early days, our life revolved around the Navy; we lived in quarters, shopped in the Commissary and Exchange, and even pumped our gas at the station on base. As a young mother with a husband who was frequently deployed for extended periods of time, I depended on the other, more seasoned wives in our community for guidance through the many idiosyncrasies of Naval life as well as emotional support. We were a sisterhood of women, mostly in our twenties and thirties who kept the information flowing and morale up in a time before cell phones and emails, when we would get the longest cords possible for our phones so we could keep an eye on the kids and maybe do a little housework during marathon phone calls. It’s amazing what I could accomplish with a phone receiver tucked under my chin!
Throughout Dave’s career, wives were always given a special status because of the tremendous responsibilities most of us shouldered while our guys were “out”. I still have a very faded apron with the logo “Navy Wife – the Toughest Job in the Navy.” As I look back, I don’t remember it as being any tougher than other parts of my life because of the tremendous camaraderie. The separations were long but the reunions were so sweet.
It’s good to go back to our roots, to be reminded of where we come from, the friends we haven’t thought of in a while and see the places we frequented. For people like us, that can be many different places because we have been rooted, uprooted and transplanted many times. Going back to Virginia Beach last week reminded me of a time when I was very young and my whole life spread before me. It warmed my heart and lightened my soul. You may not be able to go home again, but you can certainly have a nice visit.
As we celebrate Memorial Day weekend, I’d like to send a special shout out to all of the military men and women who serve our nation and especially to their spouses and families who support them keeping the home fires burning, the kids fed and bills paid. Even with improved communications, the separations are still hard to endure and the nights are long. God willing, you too will someday have the opportunity to return to the place of your youth and remember. God bless you all.