The scene played out daily at mealtime during their freshman year at USAFA. Four thousand cadets filed into Mitchell Hall and came to attention at their tables. The freshmen stood, two or three at each table of ten, with their head up but eyes down. It was time to report “knowledge.” Upperclassmen at each table quizzed their freshmen on random Academy facts that the “doolies” were expected to know. Though the questions changed from day to day, one always remained the same: “How many days until graduation?”
“Sir!” they would respond, “the number of days until graduation for the Class of 2006: 168.” Freshmen always knew the exact number. They continued without hesitation: “The number of days until graduation for the Class of 2007: 535. The number of days until graduation for the Class of 2008: 898.
“The number of days until graduation for the Class of 2009: Infinite.”
Infinity sure flew by. Four years later, the graduating seniors wondered where all of the time had gone as they marched into Falcon Stadium.
*Note: The pictures in this post are a combination of family and Getty images.
More than fifteen thousand of the cadets’ family members and friends stood with them as our national anthem proudly filled the air.
Vice President Joe Biden was the keynote speaker.
While the speakers did a wonderful job, the crowd truly roared when it was time for the presentation of diplomas. Squadron by squadron and in alphabetical order, the seniors walked past the podium. After what seemed like ages, it was Matt’s turn. We sprung to our feet and cheered wildly as his name was read. Even the babies joined in by blowing whistles with as much force as their cute little mouths could muster.
Matt confidently stepped onto the stage and accepted his prized blue box. Then he walked forward to salute the Air Force Chief of Staff, General Norton A. Schwartz. The 4-Star General shook Matt’s hand and counseled, “Lead them well.” Matt responded quickly with a sincere nod, “Yes, sir.”
A few more steps brought Matt to Vice President Biden’s outstretched hand. Biden offered his congratulations and expressed his and the country’s gratitude for Matt’s service.
Then Matt turned toward his squadmate waiting at the bottom of the ramp. Per tradition, Drew Borders rendered a salute to the new graduate and Matt beamed as he returned the gesture. They jumped into a celebratory hug and Drew pranced back to his seat while Matt repeated the process for the next Bulldawg.
Once all forty squadrons had received their diplomas, Brigadier General Samuel Cox invited the seniors to stand and repeat the officer’s oath they had taken the previous evening.
If the morning hadn’t felt surreal before, it definitely did now. The excitement began to build at a rapid pace as the stadium anxiously awaited the magic words. General Cox carefully watched the flag signal next to the media box and timed his concluding remarks accordingly. Then, the signal was given and the order came:
“Class of 2009, dismissed!”
In one perfectly orchestrated instant, the crowd erupted and the seniors tossed their caps high in the air as six F-16 Thunderbirds roared overhead.
The cheering continued for minutes on end—not only from the crowd, but from the graduating class as they hugged and celebrated on the field. Still in a daze, they scattered to find loved ones to share in the merriment.
In the meantime, I rushed from my seat and made my way through the crowd down toward the field entrance. I watched as Matt and his best friends spotted each other and reveled in their shared accomplishment. And then, it was my turn. Matt scanned the crowd and bounded up the stairs as soon as he found my face.
The next moment is one I’ll remember for the rest of my life. I’d already fought back the tears while the national anthem was played, as Matt received his diploma, and when the caps were thrown to the sky. But they flowed happily down my cheeks as Matt wrapped me in his arms, lifted me off my tip toes, and kissed me with more emotion than a sentence like this could capture. They were tears of joy, tears of pride, and tears of relief that finally, finally, he was mine. It was a moment of sheer bliss.
Meanwhile, unbeknown to the two of us, the world kept turning. The celebration continued throughout the stadium as the Thunderbirds performed overhead.
I led Matt to our families who were waiting patiently with smiles that stretched to New Zealand and back. Matt showed off the contents of the coveted blue box as his parents bursted with pride. My little brothers excitedly informed Matt that they, too, wanted to attend the Air Force Academy.
Before long, the stadium and parking lots began to clear. I accompanied Matt for one final stroll across the Terrazzo before he turned in his golden sash and said goodbye to the Academy.
And just like that, it was all over. All of the white glove inspections and noon-meal formations and sleepless nights spent studying for yet another exam. All of the football games and sponsors’ homes and goofing off in the dorms with friends. And for the two of us, all of the five-hour phone calls and lonely weeknights and Sunday goodbyes at the Denver airport. Most notably, all of the necessary-yet-inconvenient rules that forbid cadets from getting married until after graduation—until after this day. It had all come to an end.
At long last, we could finally begin.
