CHARLESTON AIR FORCE BASE, S.C. –
As many of you know, we lost one of our own in November when Senior Airman Josh Zwick was killed in a single-vehicle accident near Hollywood, SC.
As his squadron commander, I wrote his mother the official condolence and notification letter.
Although I had never done a letter like it before, I realized its importance and spent some time drafting the words. I wanted to ensure the letter was as factually accurate as possible and yet compassionate as well.
I included the circumstances of his death, my condolences and also tried to give her some details about Josh's participation in our squadron and the Air Force at Charleston AFB.
I sent the letter through Federal Express on Monday the week of Thanksgiving. By Friday morning, my first sergeant, Josh's immediate supervisor, and I flew to Tucson, Ariz., to meet Josh's immediate family and to help them get ready to accept his body, which was arriving at the Tucson International Airport later that evening.
In attendance were nearly 60 of Josh's immediate family and friends. We arrived a little early, and while we were waiting for the flight transporting Josh's body to arrive, I noticed Josh's mother carrying a white, folded piece of paper.
She was going around to everyone there and asking them, "Have you read the letter? You need to read the letter!"
I watched in fascination as right in front of me, as if I wasn't there, she handed them the same letter on official letterhead with my signature I had sent to her earlier in the week. It invoked many tears from many who read it, but laughter as well, especially when his grandmother read he had participated in our squadron intramural volleyball team.
It was quite inconceivable to her that her grandson, the captain quarterback of the local powerhouse high school football team, would ever participate in something like that. The next day, at the memorial service at a local church, there was standing room only and the service started late because it took so long for everyone to sign in and get seated.
In the back of the church, there was a memorial table set up with a few of Josh's treasured things, including his football, his wakeboard and some framed pictures of him and his family.
On the front right corner of the table, there was something else in a frame as well. Yes, you guessed it, the same letter that I had sent to her, looking a little worse for wear than when I first sent it. It had been folded and refolded numerous times, cried on and been caught between many hugs.
It was, as you can imagine, a humbling experience for me. What struck me is how a simple letter on official Air Force letterhead with my official signature meant so much to his family and friends.
My signature was the official link between their son and his beloved Air Force. As a squadron commander, I sign my name numerous times throughout the course of a day, from the more mundane tasks such as convalescent leave, to bigger issues such as disciplinary issues or promotion letters.
I joke with my secretary that I would be rich if I could get a nickel for every time I signed my name, and I almost become immune to its importance. It took one very difficult weekend in Tucson, Ariz., to remind me of the importance of my signature.
Your signature is important as well, even if you're an airman basic, because with your signature comes your word as an Air Force professional that what you're signing is in compliance with technical data or Air Force Instructions. The importance of your signature and its power should remind you of the trust the Air Force has placed in you to do the job right the first time, every time, even when no one else is looking.
In addition to thinking about my signature, I also thought about all the other things we do again and again in official capacities as Air Force professionals that we get immune to. What task is it you perform again and again and it just becomes routine?
Whether it's the hundredth decision you've made today; whether it's that inspection or checklist you've done so many times you could accomplish it by memory; whether it's the countless identification cards you've checked; whether it's the 1,000th pound of jet fuel you've pumped; whether it's the umpteenth million cargo ton you've pushed, pulled and loaded; whether it's the endless medication you've either prescribed or counted or issued; whether it's that legal issue you've reviewed; whether it's the numbers you've reviewed and reviewed again - it matters. It all matters.
No matter how dull, boring, repetitive, or seemingly insignificant the task may seem, you do it for our Air Force, and it all matters.
Don't ever forget the power of your signature, the importance of your job to our U.S. Air Force and its ability to continually meet our nation's objectives.