The adventure of a lifetime was about to begin. None of us knew to what extent it would forever change our lives. In July 1998, our son, Joe Houston, left our home and sheltered life in Houston, Texas, to join the midshipmen at the United States Naval Academy. He was eighteen years old and so confident in his calling that he convinced us not to accompany him to Annapolis to send him off. He wanted his independence. He wanted to be a man. He wanted to embrace the challenge head on and say all his goodbyes in Houston. He was pumped. He was ready for anything and everything they could dish out. The apron strings were cut. It was his chance to make his dream come true: He wanted to fly. At the time, the Lord comforted me with the song “His Eye Is on the Sparrow.” I was able to let go and launch our fledgling from our nest into his care.
We later learned that on the very first day, while the medics were taking blood, Joe passed out in line and had to have his blood drawn laying on a cot. Needless to say, this was not the first impression he wanted to make. I laugh now and wonder if the blood in his veins had been replaced by pure adrenaline. He was eager to absorb every aspect of USNA. His attitude was “bring it on.” He would wax philosophical with each phone call home, analyzing what was expected, what he had achieved, how he could improve, how best to serve, as well as observations about relationships, loyalty, competitiveness, and camaraderie. Joe loved structure. The regimen, discipline, and daily grind of the Academy suited him well. He quickly became “Houston from Houston” and as a proud Texan enjoyed the attention. He laughed when he had to explain to his classmates that he didn’t drive a pickup with a rack full of guns. He was miffed at being called John instead of Joe. His full name is John Joseph Houston, so all his official records refer to him as John.
Another of Joe’s initial challenges was the need to study—perhaps for the first time in his life. He realized he was an “average Joe in the middle of the class” and “there are many people here a lot smarter than I am.” He intentionally pushed himself to his maximum capacity and beyond. He became fiercely loyal to the brotherhood. There was a transformation occurring in Joe. He learned the wisdom of keeping his weapon secured after “losing” his rifle. (When a squad mate misplaces a weapon or ammunition the entire team suffers.) He learned to add green hot sauce to everything on his plate and that the mess hall cooked four hundred turkeys for Thanksgiving. He learned to turn to Scripture each night before bed for encouragement and strength for the next day. We noticed he began to refer to “Mother B” as home.
Four years at the Academy served as an anvil in Joe’s life that helped sharpen and hone his character, honor, integrity, and mental, physical, and spiritual strength and endurance. We watched him expand his horizons and gain leadership and organizational skills. He learned to become efficient and to appreciate humility, sacrifice, and service to God and mankind. He learned to scuba dive, skydive, coach soccer, pay attention to world news, fold his T-shirts into tiny squares so they could neatly fit on his closet shelves, and appreciate his family more than ever. He developed perseverance and gained self-confidence.
By being blessed with admission to the first class offered corrective surgery for nearsightedness, Joe was able to qualify and be selected for aviation. Commissioned in 2002, he was winged two years later as a helicopter pilot at Whiting Field, in Milton, Florida. Following graduation, Joe faced many difficult personal and professional challenges. During periods of retrospection, he would comment on how lessons learned at the Academy had prepared him for later real-life situations. With God’s help, he was able to achieve success while overcoming significant trials in flight school, a difficult marriage, the premature birth of his son, and three deployments to the Persian Gulf.
During survival training in advanced helicopter school in San Diego, Joe reported a humorous event. He was alone, evading the “enemy,” taking shelter in a ditch to hide. Suddenly, the earth trembled and shook, scaring the wits out of him. For a moment he thought they were using live artillery in the training. It was impressively realistic and turned out to be his first experience with an earthquake.
Joe flew the Navy’s latest helicopter, the SH-60 Sea Hawk, doing search and rescue and cargo/supply missions. He absolutely loved it. During Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, Joe was assigned a humanitarian mission. He assisted people standing on roofs of houses waiting to be rescued. He witnessed the mass devastation of communities and infrastructure. He was frustrated with civilian air traffic and the media’s erroneous reporting. He remembered the stench over the entire area. He embraced the opportunity to render aid.
During a workup training mission in San Diego, Joe was assigned to be first pilot in the Sea Hawk. At the eleventh hour, however, there was a decision to change pilots. One of his squadronmates flew instead. The helicopter went down in an instant, with no reported problems and in good weather. The entire crew perished. Joe struggled with survivor’s guilt but realized that the Lord had spared his life for a purpose. Within days, he volunteered to fly again. His heart always wanted to fly. It’s what he was trained and blessed to be able to do. He was a man of courage and commitment to the mission.
Joe served on USS Peleliu, USS Bonhomme Richard, and USS Rainier, flying search and rescue and supply missions. He was also involved in a counterpiracy expedition. He continued to excel. We were extremely proud of his service. During his deployment, we would send Joe care packages. He told us he would take all his goodies to the wardroom and spread them out on the table to share with those who had none. He was very appreciative of his blessings and privileges, empathizing with buddies who had few letters from home.
In Dubai, Joe rode a camel and reported crash landings when he ventured to snow ski on an indoor mountain. He relished trying all the exotic foods and loved the stuffed dates. On port calls to Guam, Australia, and Hawaii, he took advantage of the clear waters and beautiful reefs to go scuba diving. Once in Singapore he was walking down the street with a Navy buddy and decided he needed a drink of water. He saw a faucet on the side of a building and took a drink. He later realized it was a temple.
Joe had a great sense of humor and enjoyed making his squadronmates laugh. He would dress up in outlandish costumes, wigs and all, relishing their reactions and comments. His most renowned disguise was the Joker nurse in Batman. He developed an interest in flowers, taking beautiful photographs of blossoms from all over the world. After learning to macramé, he made lovely necklaces incorporating unusual shells collected on his dives.
In an effort to save his failing marriage, Joe requested and received a change in position and location. He believed that transferring to Corpus Christi, Texas, would strengthen his family bonds, stabilize his marriage, and allow him to be home three years without deployment. He became a T-34C Turbomentor flight instructor. Shortly before reassignment, however, his marriage ultimately failed. He came to Texas alone, leaving his wife and son in San Diego. He was in the middle of a divorce, wounded, broken, starting over again.
Joe applied himself fully to the Navy task at hand and enrolled in Embry University, pursuing a master’s degree in aviation safety. He became an excellent flight instructor, with nerves of steel, great patience, and a heart full of compassion. He earned personal and professional respect at Corpus Christi Naval Air Station. Students would request his instruction and look forward to flying with him. He made sound decisions and quickly formed deep relationships with Christian friends in the area. Joe also received emotional healing and began moving forward again in his personal life. He soon reacquainted with a wonderful high school friend and became engaged to be married. Life was good; his hope was renewed and joy evident. He continued to be an incredible dad to his son, Asher, despite the physical distance.
John Joseph Houston, beloved classmate, son, father, and friend. (Courtesy Houston family)
On October 28, 2009, Joe unexpectedly completed his earthly assignment. He called his son, Asher, that morning and then flew a routine training mission with a senior instructor, Lt. Bret Miller (USNA Class of 2001). During the flight, their plane went off radar, plunging into the Gulf of Mexico. Two days later, Bret’s body was found, raising questions about whether the canopy had been opened and whether Joe had been able to eject. A massive land and sea search ensued involving the Navy, Marine Corps, Coast Guard, and civilians. It lasted twenty-one days. Matt Kavanaugh, a classmate of Joe’s from USNA 2nd Company, came from New Jersey to organize and facilitate the civilian search. On November 18, one day before Joe’s thirtieth birthday, his plane was finally located. Joe’s body was strapped in the cockpit.
Our precious son, Lt. John Joseph Houston, was buried on January 31, 2010, in Arlington National Cemetery with full military honors. Many family members, friends, and USNA shipmates attended the ceremony that clear frosty morning. A memorial trust was established by 2nd Company in Joe’s name for educational resources for Asher. We learned that we truly have an extended Navy family. They continue to come forward in many ways, professionally and personally, to bless our family in providing support.
Joe loved life and lived it to the fullest. We miss him terribly, and our hearts are broken. It is comforting to know he was prepared to meet the Lord and lived a life worthy of his calling. Joe is eternally safe and secure in God’s presence. Joe would want us to share his life verse: “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4). His high school football team motto, his flight school banner, and the banner over his life continue to be “To God Be the Glory!”