They moved clumsily through the non-secure, arrival area of the airport. The Mom, the grandparents, the aunts, uncle. Their little group of about 8 positioned themselves so that no arriving passenger was going to get past the filter they became.
The signs, the balloons and cameras did not even phase him. He looked to be about 12ish. He looked as if he was waiting for something awfully special…but very nervous too. He clearly had been crying a lot. Mom, aunts and uncles jumped with excitement and sometimes gave him a tug to test his excitement. He stood, he fidgeted and swayed holding on tight to a sign the aunt just gave him.
“Excuse me...what flight did you come off of?” they’d ask people over and over again as they streamed past. Then a scream….”that’s HIS flight!” They became really excited. The boy bounced and peered down the long terminal hallway. More and more passengers walked by. Eye’s were glued down that hall…necks craned. Then numerous screams in unison. The boy froze, then yelled "DAD!!!" louder than any background noise in the entire airport combined. The great brown camouflage man ran down the hall. Tears flowing down the frozen boy’s face. The great man bypassed mom, grans and all others. He ran to his boy. The sign drops to the floor. The boy is lifted and spun.
Not a dry eye in that part of San Antonio airport!
Welcome home G.I. Joe....and God Bless!