Posted on 09/29/2016 2:45:27 PM PDT by Jim Robinson
I would hope it not out of order to link to some of Mr Reed’s posts as a small tribute to a member of the class of ‘98.
http://www.freerepublic.com/tag/by:dalereed/index?brevity=full;tab=comments
I especially liked post number 92 by dale on this thread:
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/3385438/posts
...and an aside I believe he was born in ‘37
From one member of the Class of ‘98 to another, may he RIP.
May the Lord hold you in the hollow of His hand. Amen.
5.56mm
I had the pleasure of knowing him for over 20 years.He helped me A LOT as a young real estate investor, helping me rehab my properties and lecturing me constantly when he thought I was making mistakes.(which was frequently)He reminded me of John Wayne on steroids!Oddly, I hadnt talked to him in over a year, yesterday I kept thinking about him and wanting to call him and talk about the election, tried to find him on FR and noticed the day he died I felt that great urge to call and he was on my mind....very odd :/I feel sick and queasy;the same way `I felt when President Reagan died.I learned a lot from him!
Nam Vet
Amen.
Rest in peace, Dale.
Prayers for his family.
Blessings and prayers to the family, friends and to his memory.
Rest in peace, Dale.
High Flight By John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
(A sonnet written by John Gillespie Magee, an American pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force in the Second World War. He came to Britain, flew in a Spitfire squadron, and was killed at the age of nineteen on 11 December 1941 during a training flight from the airfield near Scopwick.)
“Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds -
and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of -
wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
Hovering there I’ve chased the shouting wind along
and flung my eager craft through footless halls of air.
“Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
and, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
the high untrespassed sanctity of space,
put out my hand and touched the face of God.”
Regards,
TS
Condolences to family and friend of Dale Reed. R.I.P., sir.
love
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