FEBRUARY 15, 1973
When the plane touched down at Travis Air Force Base in Sacramento, California, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. American soil! It had been more than eight years since I had been on American soil, and the feeling this brought is hard to describe. We had a short layover at Travis, and while the plane to Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery, Alabama, was being readied, those of us who were heading in that direction waited in the lounge area.
The military was very protective of people getting near us at that time, so I was greatly surprised when I looked up and saw a very familiar face heading toward me. It was Col. Frank Masters (ret.). I had gotten to know him as a dear friend when he was the base commander during our time at Bainbridge Air Base, the flying school for USAF Air Training Command in the 1950s. Somehow Frank had found out we would have a layover at Travis and had traveled a great distance to see me, even though he knew it would be only for a brief time. I was totally surprised and filled with joy to see my good friend once again after so many years.
Our visit was cut short when it was announced it was time to board the plane to Alabama. This was the last flight on my long journey home—so much longer than I could have ever imagined when I set out for Korat so many years before. At that time, I had told Louise good-bye in the middle of the night, thinking I would see her in two weeks. Due to the delay in the flight to Alabama, it appeared I would finally be returning to her in the middle of the night many years later.
As I felt the familiar jolt of being airborne at last, my mind, heart, and emotions were all over the place. Many have asked me what I was feeling. My reply is that I was feeling nervous and anxious, joyful and euphoric—and really, any feeling between that wide scope of emotions.
The flight from California to Alabama was long. I had time to wonder and time to worry. What had changed over eight years? How would things be different between Louise and me? How would the children receive me after such a long time? And Lyle—how would he react to a father he had never met? I tried to picture what they would look like now. Robin was now twelve, almost thirteen. She was a young lady. Carolyn was eleven and following quickly behind her sister in maturity. How much I had missed! And Lyle. My son. What was he like? Would he accept me not just as a father but as a daddy? Oh, how I hoped he would!
It was 2:00 a.m. when we began our descent at Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery. I didn’t know who would be there to greet me. I was sure Louise would be there, but I wasn’t sure if the children would accompany her or not. A few days alone with Louise sounded wonderful, but I was also anxious to see the children, as well as other family and friends.
As the wheels touched down with a thud, my heart pounded in the same way. There were twenty of us on the airplane, and I was the senior ranking officer of the group, so I was to be the first one off the airplane. I hardly felt the cold night air as I descended the metal steps of the plane. I was surprised to be greeted at this late hour with cheers and applause as two hundred people waved flags and held signs that read “Welcome Home.” Base personnel lined the perimeter, and civilians in Montgomery who had heard of our return lined the fence, all being held back by the Air Police. After I descended the steps, my escort led me to a microphone and asked me to say a few words. The moment was so surreal that I don’t remember what I said. However, I am certain it included the words “God Bless America.”
As I spoke to the crowd, I didn’t realize that a blue sedan had pulled up right behind me. When I finished speaking, I turned around and immediately saw that the sedan held my great treasure. My Louise was just steps away from me! I quickly bridged the distance between us and got into the sedan, indescribable joy filling every one of my senses. She had never looked more beautiful.
We didn’t speak many words on the short drive across the base to the Visiting Officer Quarters where we would be staying. We were speechless with joy and emotion that had been held back for years, but our embrace spoke volumes. I was finally home!
Louise was able to quickly prepare me for the great party awaiting me at the VOQ. The children were there, as were Janice and Dick and their children. Louise’s mom and her grandmother were there, and so were my parents and my brother, Joe. My parents! They had both lived to see me return. Later, I would find out what a battle my father fought through cancer treatments in order to see this day become a reality—but he was alive, and he was there! Another wave of joy overtook me, and along with it a wave of nervousness as I exited the car and made my way to the room where my family was waiting.
As I stepped into the quarters, both Robin and Carolyn squealed and came running to jump into my arms. “Oh, thank you, Lord—they haven’t forgotten!” I breathed a prayer of gratitude. They had grown to be lovely young women. I was overcome with emotion, and tears of joy rolled down my face.
Then there was Lyle. I picked him up and hugged him for a long time. It didn’t bother me that he didn’t hug back. I knew it would take a little time. Though I knew Louise would have talked about me, the man picking him up was still a stranger.
And then a flood of family gathered around to embrace me. Loud laughter and flowing tears—the perfect combination of emotions filled the room. I was delighted to see every person there, especially Mom and Dad. I can’t describe the feeling of hugging them and being hugged by them. I had worried about their health, worried that I would never have another moment with them on this earth, yet here we were in a tight embrace, with tears flowing down our cheeks.
I was also thrilled to see Louise’s mom and grandmother, with whom I had always had a good relationship. Grandmother Rindeleau was a proper lady, but somehow she seemed to connect with me, rough edges and all. That night she pulled Louise aside and told her, “You know, I have accomplished everything I have ever wanted. And now I have seen everything I have ever wanted to see in my life—now that our Carlyle is home.” These rare, tender words would be a source of great comfort when three weeks later she passed from this life to the next.
The whole room was almost chaotic with talk and laughter. When we all finally settled down a bit, I went to my bags and began pulling out the gifts I had purchased for everyone with the money I had received as an installment of my back pay while I was at Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines. I had bought very nice gifts of watches for the men and pearls for the women. Robin and Carolyn received necklaces, and Lyle received a miniature airplane. Louise, of course, received my best gift—a beautiful Mikimoto pearl necklace and pearl ring. She still treasures them today.
And they all had gifts for me. I must confess that my favorite gift was from my sister-in-law Janice. We had a longstanding tradition of exchanging crazy gifts. Her gift to me that night was a large, beautifully wrapped gift box—filled with dry, white rice. We all had a good, hearty laugh. When I gave her a velvet box, like those who had received pearls, her face dropped and turned white, obviously fearing I had not adhered to our tradition. She carefully opened the box and pulled out a huge pair of men’s boxer shorts! I had crammed them into the velvet jewelry box. We all burst out into laughter once again.
After about thirty or forty minutes, while I sat in the large easy chair, opening yet another gift, I looked around for Lyle and found him in a corner, just watching me. I turned and opened my arms toward him, and he came running, jumped into my lap, and threw his arms around my neck in a big hug. I tossed another grateful prayer heavenward as I hugged him: “Oh, thank you, Lord!”
In my years of captivity, I had learned over time to have no emotions, at least not to demonstrate them while held prisoner. What an indescribable feeling to finally let go and allow myself to feel once again. Seeing Louise, my children, and all of my dear family elicited a release of emotion I had held in for years. It felt like heaven on earth.
Having stayed up for most of the night, we all met for a late brunch the next morning, and then everyone began their journey home, except for Louise and me. We stayed at Maxwell for three more days of debriefing and reconnecting with each other. When we finally pulled into the driveway of our home on Madison Street in Tupelo, I realized what a miracle this reunion had been. Looking back, I still see it as an amazing miracle. Truly, we didn’t miss a beat. We just started over where we had left off. It was if I had simply taken a walk around the block.