The story begins in World War II with a squadron leader in the Royal Canadian Air Force requesting volunteers for a mission that he deemed a “suicide” mission. The objective was to provide troops on the front lines with ammunition as they were surrounded at the end of an airfield by enemy forces. The radio call had come in from the field stating that unless ammunition was delivered in short order; the men would no longer have the capability to defend themselves. My grandfather, along with others, stepped forward without hesitation. As the flight lifted off from the Burmese air base, one could only imagine the thoughts that those brave men embraced as they sat quietly listening to the drone of the plane’s engines. I never asked him what those thoughts were… I think perhaps the nature of one’s thoughts in those moments are reserved for those few who have served and lived through them.

The plane landed under heavy fire and the men worked feverishly to push the heavy crates of ammo out the back of the cargo area as the pilot spun the 180 degrees to bring the propellers to face a runway that provided them with the slimmest margin of hope. As the engines roared forward, fragments of enemy fire pierced the plane bringing the smell of smoke and war with them. My grandfather dove to the floor and curled his large hands around his knees. The plane shook and shuddered as it gained flight with the sounds of battle rendering a crew temporarily deafened. In that moment, my grandfather cried out audibly with a promise to the only One who he felt could hear his plea. “God, if you let me live… I will serve You the rest of my days.”

As wheels touched down on a familiar airstrip; the brave men who had lived through the mission had no way of knowing that those wings had seen their last flight. The plane was grounded permanently due to the incredible amount of damage that it sustained. The tattered frame and broken wings of that aircraft served as a symbol of courage to all those who have experienced the freedom that only lives on through sacrifice.

In my grandfather’s eyes, a man was to honor his word as his bond and so in the early 1950’s he packed up his family of six and began the journey to the jungles of the Amazon. Stories of indigenous tribal groups in danger of systematic extermination as they defended their territories with bows, arrows, and spears against armed rubber tappers, illegal loggers, diamond miners and the like had reached his ears. This journey as a defender and friend of those in greatest need began upon his arrival and has extended ultimately through generations.

Our story continues at the edge of a clearing in virgin jungle in northern Bolivia…. Two years of time and toil had crept by as my grandfather had sought to help a tribe whose only previous contact with the outside world was to be shot at and killed. It was my grandmother who first saw them through the screened window as she stood in her kitchen with a dirt floor under her feet. In a moment, my grandfather had stripped off his shirt to reveal no weapons and without hesitation, began to walk slowly towards the naked shadows moving amongst the trees. He stooped to gently pull a steel axe from a stump and continued towards the powerful chanting that rang out across the clearing. As he drew close, the chanting grew to a fever pitch as the witch doctor chewed leaves and blew them high in the air, descending on men with bows fully drawn. Time seemed to stand still….. Slowly, my grandfather extended the steel axe across a pile of brush towards the men. No one moved. Then… a young man, shaking like a leaf in a rainstorm, took a small step forward. Then, another step….. His hand held a primitive stone axe. His eyes locked with my grandfather as he approached the brush pile and with trembling hand, the young warrior raised his stone axe to trade for the steel axe with my grandfather. In this moment, a life-long friendship was born and a new found hope for the young man’s people was born. More than sixty years have passed and yet I continue to be humbled and inspired by these men’s courage in the face of the unknown….

In 2011, I sat alone in a small thatched hut with an elderly man whose eyesight was dim and hearing was slight. Although his teeth were riddled with holes when he smiled; they did not disguise the beauty that his smile brought each time he shared it with me. This man, who had traded his stone axe for a steel axe with my grandfather so many years ago, now served as an Amazonian grandfather to my family. In my mind, his bare feet now filled the shoes my grandfather had left with his passing. His name? Tade. Carefully, the man removed a small bark bag down from its place wedged in the thatch roof and set it between us. His weathered fingers removed two feathers from the bag…. These were not just any feathers…. Immediately I recognized them as the best feather available in the jungle for making their arrows. He knew I understood he was giving me his best. He simply said,” The first feather is for you and the other is for your first-born son which has just arrived. We may not be together again on earth as I am old but, remember me and I will see you in the sky.” Then, as he gathered himself to return the bark bag to its resting place; he removed one more feather which was the last of its kind and laid it in my hand with no explanation. We embraced, and I slipped quietly down the jungle trail leading from his hut.

It was a Monday morning in March 2017 and I had just arrived at the office when I received a short text… “If you would like to see Kyle, you need to come.” Eleven words changed my life.

As a collegiate soccer coach for over twenty years, I have had the privilege of being tasked with helping instill quality characteristics in young men through the game of soccer so that they are prepared to be great husbands, fathers and members of their communities as life unfolds. Kyle Wagley was the unique player that came into the program already possessing so many of these valuable traits. His work ethic, competitive drive, humility, and leadership qualities were evident from the first day I met him. As a quiet leader and imposing defender, Kyle was a great teammate who always encouraged others while demanding more from himself. Upon graduation, I knew I would not be surprised to see Kyle reach whatever goals he set for himself as he had developed into a great leader and a fine young man. He married his high school sweetheart Stormi… I wasn’t surprised. He piloted an Apache helicopter as he served our country… I wasn’t surprised. He was promoted to higher levels of responsibility in the leadership of men… I wasn’t surprised. He became a great father to a beautiful daughter… I wasn’t surprised. He carried himself with dignity, tenacity and courage regardless of life circumstance… I wasn’t surprised.

When I found out that Kyle had become ill, we reconnected and communicated frequently. Kyle and his family had spent the weekend with us a few months prior to receiving that Monday morning text and I remember how much love and respect I had in my heart for him and his family as they pulled out of our driveway.

There was a short pause as I read Stormi’s text that Monday morning….. As I struggled to comprehend the life-changing significance of those few words; my eyes drifted to a shelf above my desk. On the shelf, proudly stood three feathers standing together. I gently selected a feather…. And started driving.

I arrived at Kyle’s home that afternoon and we held a long embrace as his hand pulled my head down to his. As I sat with him, I placed the feather in his hand and told him the story of which I have written. “I have known men of courage and they have had a profound impact on my life. You are now one of these men. This gift is from one warrior to another.” I said to him. The feather did not leave his hand until he slept that evening.

I spent the remainder of the week with Kyle and count it as one of my life’s greatest privileges to have been with him in his home during this time. When true character, strength and courage exist in a person; it is always most evident during the most challenging and difficult times that life provides. Kyle Wagley has served as an inspiration to me personally and countless others who were fortunate to have called him a friend. I am a living testament that Kyle lived out his days with dignity, grace, strength beyond measure, unwavering love for his family, and a legacy of courage that can only be earned and not given.

I only have two feathers standing proudly together on my shelf today…. The other is exactly where it was meant to be.

Shared by Joey Johnson
June 22, 2019