Col. William W. Wood and Dreams on the Edge

I moved to Panama City, Florida in the middle of my Junior year of high school. Upstate New York was an entirely different culture from the World's Most Beautiful Beaches. We had five cars in our senior parking lot in Plattsburgh. The Rutherford High School parking lot was massive. I was astonished that the local middle school just down the street had its own student parking lot! One of my first challenges in transitioning to this new world was to get another job. I rode my bicycle up north to my job as a groundskeeper at Plattsburgh Air Force Base. Cycling to work from Tyndall on Highway 98 was not an option. So I often hitch-hiked from home to work, and back.

One hot afternoon a Mustang pulled off to the side of the road just past my outstretched arm and extended thumb. A head popped out and called back to me, "Hop in Tool." It was one of my new coworkers from Winn Dixie, a grocery store I now worked at across the bay. I'd met him before at school when I tried out for wrestling and quickly bailed after losing 18 pounds of my already slim 145 at six feet. "Bill!" I said excitedly as I jumped in that classic ride. "You don't live on this side of the county," I said. "No worries," he replied. "I knew you'd be hoofing it to your shift, so I thought I'd catch you walking." Bill had a special kind of smile, filled with the confidence of a young man who knew his path while so many of us struggled in our youth.

From that day on, for six months, Bill drove the wrong way, over the bridge to pick me up for school and work. By the time I saved enough money to buy that 1972 Capri we were close friends. That friendship endured, until he gave his life in Iraq for our freedom.

Col. William W. Wood was a distinguished officer in the U.S. Army who tragically lost his life during Operation Iraqi Freedom. He was 44 years old and hailed from Panama City, Florida. On October 27, 2005, while directing security operations in Baghdad, Col. Wood was killed by a second improvised explosive device (IED) that detonated near his position.

Col. Wood was posthumously promoted to the rank of colonel, making him the highest-ranking American casualty of the Iraq conflict at that time. He was known for his leadership and dedication, having served with the Army National Guard’s 1st Battalion, 184th Infantry Regiment, based in Modesto, California. His sacrifice is remembered and honored by many, including his comrades and those who knew him personally. His legacy continues to inspire and remind us of the bravery and commitment of those who serve.

Whatever you believe about this world or the next, Bill visited me last night in a dream. He pulled up in that classic Mustang and we went for another ride. He took me to the top of a ridge overlooking a valley below. "Follow me," he said as he walked to the edge of that cliff. It was covered in wet grass. I slipped and felt the fear of losing ground as I slid toward the edge. Bill was in front of me, standing calmly, looking out at that vast landscape below. I grabbed what grass I could to stop sliding and remained on my back, away from the edge. I watched as Bill stood confidently taking in the view at the precipice. After a few moments of silence, Bill turned and grabbed my hand, smiled, lifting me to my feet. We headed back to his car and continued our ride, in silence. I woke from the dream as the wind of the road hit my arm stretched outside the passenger window.

All these years later, Bill is still teaching me, watching out for me. I'm sitting on my porch here in Tennessee, scheduled to return soon to Beirut, then Manila. Thanks to Dr. George Bishop, I've had the honor of working with Florida State University in assisting over 20 nations in building their higher education system capacity. He and Dr. Jim Kerley taught me a lot about how to do this work. USAID and other key programs do their best to share effective practices we use to promote education, in part as the front lines of the war on terrorism. The prevailing theory is that increased levels of literacy and education reduce the forces of extremism in its many forms. Some disagree.

I think what Bill was telling me is that if you want to understand this world, you need to step back and look at it from high above...so you can see the scale of it. To do that, you have to get close to the edge, and stand. From there, you will see patterns and movement. You will see the countless stories that encompass the billions of lives in those valleys below. You can't see this without getting on that edge. Slipping and falling as you get closer to that edge is part of the pursuit. That fear of going over is something we need to listen to as we attempt to keep our footing across the years. However, you must stand.

Bill stood, in so many ways, until that moment in 2005. He stood for many things we now argue about in today's polarized political climate. We may see family, safety, freedom and core values that define our nation differently. Our assumptions surrounding these values continues to drive our culture. Internally and externally, these differences of culture are colliding yet again. Or, are they?

When Bill pulled me to my feet in that dream, I could see that endless valley below. I could see those patterns shifting. I saw areas with wildfires and the smoke of battle. I also saw clouds clearing as the Sun's illumination moved across the land below. The sunshine cleared clouds and smoke as it moved at a rapid pace, pushing back the dark storms which grew smaller and smaller. Maybe it's just the optimist in me. I'm pragmatic and deeply concerned about Putin's next move, which depends a lot on our next presidential election. It will take a power as great as that of our Sun or greater to reveal whatever is next. But, thanks to Bill, I know we can't see what that looks like and attempt to understand the complex forces that drive such cultures, unless we have the courage to stand on that edge. The closer we get to that edge, the more we need that helping hand. Bill is still standing. I hope you are too...