A Fear of Maine
And a love of Bangor
I think it’s fair to say the King of horror has given us a healthy fear of Maine. Today I want to share a redemption story for Bangor.
It was late April 1991 at night and our aircraft has just landed at the Bangor airport. The passengers? US Army soldiers returning home from Desert Storm. After reaching the gate or commanding officer used the plane’s PA system to share two things with us.
1. We were still on duty and were not allowed to drink in the airport lounge.
2. Some of the local residents were waiting to welcome us.
As I stepped off the jetway I saw about a dozen people lined up against the wall holding flags and waving. I greeted them as I passed by and then I made a right turn into the airport. It looked like all of the Bangor residents had come out to welcome us. There was a line of people that snaked throughout the airport waving flags, cheering and welcoming us. I was amazed. We worked our way down the line shaking hands, hugging people, saying Thank You and feeling humbled. It felt like the line of residents went on forever and I loved it. When I reached the end of the line and shook the last hand I was standing in the airport lounge and a bartender was handing me, an eighteen year old, a cold bottle of Budweiser. I took the beer, stepped to my left and came face to face with our commanding officer. I asked him if it was okay for me to have the beer. He smiled, took a drink from his beer and told me to not ask so many questions. No, Mr. King was not there and I don’t question why.
Bangor will always have a special place in my heart.
