Woodbury Resident Gets Her Helicopter

What would a Minnesotan do while living in Puerto Rico for one year? 

She'd seek out the Commanding Officer of the Coast Guard base at a beach cleanup, of course.

I sought out this man who was wiping the sweat from his brow, just like myself.  Discovered he and his lovely wife's last duty station was in Juno, Alaska.

We have a few things in common. 

Our families have experienced a wee bit of cool, fresh air for starters, in Alaska and Minnesota. The humidity is something we are not used to as yet, here in PR. I had been reassuring myself in the beginning when I saw photographs taken of me that it was a healthy glow... forget it—it is pure sweat! 

I was anxious to compliment the commander on the friendliness of the Coast Guard service members that we have met so far on our encounters here. We have worked with different branches of the military in a few different locations—but I was impressed with the physical physique of the lads and ladies.

Rescue swimmers have got to stay fit. It is inspiring. I'm impressed with the professional demeanour as well. You have so much to be proud of in your United States Coast Guard. 

I asked, "Do you speak kindly first, and then go for the kill? What is your policy?"

"We put a bullet in the engine of your boat first, not your head," he said!

Like George Washington, they take daring risks with superhuman stamina.  Washington stayed awake for days a stretch (even on horseback) and survived any ordeal, including walking through gunfire untouched. 

Our neighbor and swimming buddy at the apartment complex is Mike Jurrand. He was one of the young fellows who arrived on the scene when Senator Ted Stevens plane went down in Alaska. Mike will be honored by President Obama within two weeks—may be honored at the next State of the Union also.  

In my conversation with the commander, I asked for a Coast Guard helicopter.  They are lovely and red, loud and impressive. 

Yesterday, the commander gave me one—these folks are all so nice here—I knew he wouldn't refuse [see photo attached]. When I saw it, I was sure the man thought I had a great lip for the stout (Guinness). Not gonna get too far commander, with the legs and wheels off the bloomin' contraption I received!!!  

To be grateful and positive as any good Woodburian would be, I tried to envision my helicopter exquisitely assembled like a custom-made wedding dress—and I imagined it as lovely to observe as the crimson, loud ones I see over my head here flying out to the Atlantic to rescue boats, swimmers in trouble, drug runners and hurricanes.  

Modest and shy, the commander of the Borinquen Coast Guard here, found fanfare embarrassing and disappered when my praise grew too flowery. 

In time, he'll know I am genuine! 

Hey, the Chaplain of the Coast Guard asked me to call him "Chaps"! Apparently, even the man of the cloth trusts me by inviting such terms of endearment. I'm getting excited now about what my 'reddish' helicopter can do.. it IS reddish isn't it?...  I'm sure it's loud and impressive!!

Perhaps asking for the chopper wasn't the way to go so to show off to my Minnesota buddies... but, I did find a commander who is extra, extra special. Really.  

I hope to collect freinds here the way art lovers collect paintings. [And then nail them to a wall.] Just jesting.