Gene helped him.
Recommended him.
Mentored him.
And when Danny eventually joined the airline, Gene requested him as his first officer.
Every March fourteenth, they flew Flight 212 together.
For Frank.
“I’m retiring soon,” Gene told Grandma.
“This was going to be one of our last March fourteenth flights together.”
He placed his hand over hers.
“I always hoped we would find you before then.”
Grandma’s eyes filled again.
“He wasn’t alone?” she whispered.
Gene shook his head.
“No, ma’am.”
“He had people with him.”
Then he smiled gently.
“And he had a frightened little boy holding his hand.”
For twenty-seven years, Grandma had carried the image of Frank alone in seat 34A.
Now, for the first time, that image changed.
Gene looked at her.
“If you had been beside him that day, Danny would probably have been sitting somewhere else.”
Grandma stared at him.
“Your husband gave that boy courage when he needed it most.”
Gene gestured toward the cockpit.
“And that boy is now flying the airplane carrying you.”
—
Before returning to the cockpit, Gene looked at Oliver.
“You traveling alone?”
Oliver nodded.
“First time?”
Another nod.
Gene pulled a modern plastic junior-pilot pin from his pocket.
“These aren’t quite as impressive as the old silver ones.”
He attached it to Oliver’s shirt.
“But they still work.”
Oliver smiled nervously.
“Be brave,” Gene said.
Then he returned to the cockpit.
I didn’t go back to first class.
I stayed in row 34.
Oliver in the middle.
Grandma by the window.
Soon, the captain’s voice came over the speaker.
He told everyone we were approaching the Rocky Mountains.
Then he told them briefly about Frank Walsh.
An aircraft mechanic who had spent thirty-four years helping keep planes in the air.
A man who had been traveling to meet his newborn granddaughter.
A man who had shown kindness to a frightened child sitting beside him.
Then Gene said,
“That frightened child is my first officer today.”
The cabin became completely silent.
“And Mrs. Ruth Walsh is sitting in 34A today for the first time.”
Grandma pressed her hand against the window.
Outside, the Rocky Mountains stretched across the horizon.
Snow caught the sunlight.
The peaks seemed endless.
“This is the view he wanted you to see,” Gene said over the speaker.
Grandma looked out for a long time.
Oliver leaned toward the glass beside her.
