Dearest "Mom" (as that is the only way I ever knew you) - With the grace of a miracle a gentle breeze has turned back the pages of time. Has it really been 28 years? Where has it gone? Hopefully the years have been good to you....you deserved it. You were always loving to me....even when I was making bad decisions..you treated me like family and I will forever be grateful and remember your kindness and laughter. Do you remember pulling out of the parking lot at Six Flags and tearing up the front end of your car? I do! I can remember trying to make light of the situation by saying, “It really isn't that bad, Should be fairly easy to fix." You looked at me and flatly said, "Nathan. Are you crazy? Look at that damage. R.A. is going to kill me, He is absolutely going to kill me!"
Let me see if I can catch you up to speed....fasten your seat belt. The ride is smooth but does have some bumps and scary moments.I graduated from Burkburnett High School Class of 1985. Naturally I was smart and my dad was dumb....that was until I stretched my wings and left the nest. With each passing day I realized how dumb I really was, and how much smarter my dad became with each passing day.
I worked hard in the oil fields of Denver, Texas as a rough neck and electrician but I had a drive to do something with my life bigger than myself. I enlisted in the United States Air Force,
2 August 1986 and after going through the Law Enforcement Academy, graduated and was shipped off to Mildenhall England with my new bride. I spent five years in England, saw France, Germany, Scotland and Sweden during my stay. During my time there I got divorced, remarried a couple years later, lost my only brother (John) to suicide, lost myself along the way, and eventually lost a wife who could no longer sit and watch me self destruct soon after transferring to the Mesa, Arizona area.
I remarried one last time telling myself, “If this doesn’t work out, the next time I go down the aisle will be feet first in a pine box!” I married a woman who already had a seven year old little boy and three year old little girl, who had had surgery to not have children anymore. Being the last male McCoy in our bloodline, my dad was devastated, hurt and turned cold. It wasn’t until my wife (also active duty military) was approved to have her surgery reversed that, and a successful surgery at that, that we conceived a son and named him “John” that my dad’s and I relationship improved. We moved from Arizona to Oklahoma back to Texas.
During my 14 year career as a peacetime Air Force cop and wartime soldier I saw amazing things and experienced things in life most people will never know. The most exciting was probably S.W.A.T. for the Air Force. Deploying to Panama during the Cuban Relief Crisis was a close second. I was assigned to a quick reaction task force to enter any of the five refugee camps to restore order during the riots and provide basic law enforcement to the 2500 Cubans per each camp. I eventually had to walk away from the excitement of going through and being shot at, in order to be there for my son. One might say the testosterone was now watered down. I ended up cross-training into Contracting, spenders of tax-payers dollars. We moved to where I was certain I would retire, Charleston, South Carolina.
While at Charleston I was called upon by my country to deploy to the country of Tajikistan to support the war fighters who invaded Afghanistan to oust the Taliban. 9/11 had just happened and the U.S.A. was paying back dues ten-fold to anyone who ever expressed, supported or funded any ill will towards Americans. I lived down town in Dushanbe, wore civilian clothes, grew a beard to blend in, carried a concealed firearm for protection and was escorted by Russian and Tajik KGB. I spent 140 days in country. Saw human suffering, human rights violations and a standard of living that would tug at the heart strings of any human with a shred of empathy or compassion. I returned home and within a few months was called to the bedside of my ailing father. Years of drinking and smoking had taken its toll…..even after 15 years of being dry and smoke free. My son and I flew home to say good-bye to my dad and his “Grampie.” It wasn’t to be. He had a turn for the better, but was told he would eventually die from osteoporosis and COPD.
When I returned to Charleston I was greeted with orders to the remote island of Guam. On an island nine miles wide and 13 miles long I spent two glorious years. I learned to scuba dive and within 18 months had achieved 17 professional PADI diving certifications, completed over 200 dives and had the pleasure of diving Guam, Rota, Saipan, Tinnian, Palau, Australia and Hawaii. I also chalked up my last deployment to The Global War on Terrorism. I landed in Bagram Afghanistan and was forward deployed to an area that was frequently under attack by the Taliban. I had the honor of supporting the Marines and Army soldiers who strapped it on every day and laid hot steel on the enemy. I also had the honor of standing in formation, hundreds of us war-fighters, lining both sides of a road that took our fallen soldiers, in a casket draped with the American flag, driven in a HUMVEE towards a Blackhawk helicopter that would start their final journey “home.” Through rocket and mortar attacks, I learned firsthand the meaning of post traumatic stress disorder. I learned panic attacks whenever I heard a loud noise. It took me a couple of years before I could breath, not frantically search for a bunker to take cover in…and re-assimilate myself back into society. Within nine months of my return back to Guam I had orders in hand to California, where I learned my gaining commander had already heard about Master Sergeant McCoy and his ground combat training, law enforcement background along with my deep experience with service and construction contracts….My reputation preceded itself and even before arriving in California learned I was slotted for Baghdad Iraq. Believe it or not, I had a more pressing life challenge.
Before my time was up in Guam…my father’s time was up here on earth. I got a call one day saying he was dying and I needed to come home. I spoke with him briefly on the phone, asked if I needed to be there…and listened to him downplay his illness, tell me he knew it was an almost impossible task, and then listened to my dad cry for the first time ever in my life and tell me “he needed his son home.” Instead of flying home immediately, I acted selfishly and waited two days before I finally swallowed my pride and booked three tickets home for my wife, my son and I. We pulled in the driveway at around 12:30 a.m. only to be greeted by my sister..who told me dad had died 8 hours ago…asking where was his son. Moral of the story? There is such a time as too late. Love who you have, repair the relationships that are broken and cherish each and every day you wake to the sunshine on your face…There is such a time as too late.
Many bet I would never retire. If you cut me, I bled Air Force blue. Leaving a son behind on the first deployment, a son who was crying…begging me not to leave…that he would be “ a good boy”, followed by slipping out in the middle of the night during my second deployment so he would not be traumatized had taken its toll. Never in my 20 years of faithful service had I ever shunned a responsibility. Did I have the dignity and self respect to retire? Facing the man in the mirror was not nearly as tough as facing the innocent, searching face of a child. The decision was easy, and as the saying goes in combat, “I popped smoke” and retired.
During my military career I visited England, Germany, France, Sweden, Scotland, Ireland, Japan, Turkey, Panama, Pakistan, Oman, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Australia, Hawaii, Rota, Saipan, Palau and Uzbekistan.
I retired, turning down the official ceremony, fading into the shadows…ready to forget my past and start my new life. I accepted a job at MacDill Air Force Base, Florida doing Contracting and have been here for the past three years. I’m currently a Lead Warranted Contracting Officer who oversees a staff of nine employees and 35 contracts that exceed $900 million dollars a year. It is rewarding, frustrating, grounding and humbling.
Soooooooo..how are you? What fills your days? Lisa told me about the family’s loss….R.A. was a father to me. He would talk to me about life and life’s choices. Be kind to people. Be respectful. I remember when I was training for cross country running, I would walk to your house and he would go running with me. I remember going to church with you and your loving family. I remember pot roast with potatoes and carrots and a family gathering. Good food..wonderful family time with conversation and laughter.
Well, I’ve rambled long enough. Drop me a line “mom.” It is a blessing to know you are still here…a gift to share my last 28 years with you…and I hope my email finds you in good health, surrounded by family…with the warm sun shining on your face.
Lots of love!
Nathan
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