Although I didn’t know him, the loss of a brother is always painful. My heartfelt thoughts and sympathies go out to his family. I found this poem, and thought it was right..
Someday we will know, where the pilots go
When their work on earth is through.
Where the air is clean, and the engines gleam,
And the skies are always blue.
They have flown alone, with the engine's moan,
As they sweat the great beyond,
And they take delight, at the awesome sight
of the world spread far and yon.
Yet not alone, for above the moan,
when the earth is out of sight,
As they make their stand, He takes their hand,
and guides them through the night.
How near to God are these men of sod,
Who step near death's last door?
Oh, these men are real, not made of steel,
But He knows who goes before.
And how they live, and love and are beloved,
But their love is most for air.
And with death about, they will still fly out,
And leave their troubles there.
He knows these things, of men with wings,
And He knows they are surely true.
And He will give a hand, to such a man
'Cause He's a pilot too
Fly straight and true.
Goodbye to Muchacho
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Goodbye to Muchacho
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