Come Fly With Us: an irish airman meets his death

There are two types of people in the world: those who can remember their dreams and those who can’t. Which type are you?

I am one of those who CAN remember dreams. Now, I know I don’t remember them all. Definitely not. Most nights, though, I do remember at least one dream pretty vividly.

Often times, it’s fun waking up after exploring something really cool that would never be possible in the real world. Other times, I have terrifying dreams (like a recurring dream I had as a child of Tony the Tiger {yes, THAT Tony the Tiger; don't judge} chasing me through the town I grew up in, waking up only when I have entered my grandparents’ house across town and slammed the door shut in Tony’s face, narrowly escaping a certain death. One dream that I will always remember, however, if the most awful one I have ever had.

When I was a senior in college in Missouri, I had been dating Dan for less than a year. He was attending the Preparatory School at the US Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. I was taking an English class that focused on World War I literature and poetry, and the class as a whole was amazing. It was fun to read about that part of history, and I enjoyed it even more than normal since I had recently started dating a man in the military. One day in class, we read a poem called “An Irish Airman Meets His Death” by W.B. Yeats. It chronicles a young pilot who is flying in the war who KNOWS he is going to die while flying. It was creepy, but I got over it… until I dreamed about it that night.

I woke up the next morning in a panic. I was shaking and crying, something that had never happened before and has not happened since. In my dream, it was Dan who had died while flying his plane in a war. It was absolutely the worst dream I have ever had, and it really rattled me. Of course, when I told him about the dream, he laughed. He still thinks I’m crazy. But I stand firm that it was an awful experience, albeit not a real one, and I hope and pray that the dream never becomes a reality.