My college sweetheart, a Vietnam war pilot, disappeared 55 years ago—on my annual flight to his memorial, a voice from the cockpit said my name.I was twenty-one when Thomas disappeared over Vietnam.
We met in college, two broke kids sharing coffee because neither of us could afford two cups. He studied engineering. I studied literature. By senior year, everyone assumed we’d marry.Then he became a military pilot.The night before he left, he pressed his forehead to mine and said, “Don’t let me become some sad story you tell when you’re old.”“Then come back.”He smiled.“I will.”Six months later, two officers came to my parents’ house.
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