Risk Management Magazine

On an October night in 2024, a flight of two AH-64D Apaches returned to base in Erbil, Iraq, after a routine training mission. The crews were cleared for a straight-in approach to their parking pads, a maneuver they had performed countless times, day and night. At this stage of their deployment, the approach was as familiar as a daily commute home from work — simple and routine.

Without warning, a strong gust of wind lifted the bow straight up and, in a blink of an eye, I was looking at blue sky. The boat spun 90 degrees before the front end dropped and I realized I was headed straight for the riverbank still running wide open. I had enough time to release the tiller arm, grab the sides of the boat and hang on for dear life.

A few years ago, I received a phone call from my youngest brother. He was going to preach at the church where my grandparents have been members of most of their adult lives. The service would take place in Greeneville, Tennessee, about 500 miles from my home in Enterprise, Alabama. I decided not only to attend, but to ride my motorcycle there.