Thursday, July 1, 2004
I was informed of a message in the late afternoon. After calling my sister, Nancey Downey King (50), she said that our father had passed after apparently taking a nap and not waking up. I called my brother, John Enoch Downey (45), who met the EMT folks as they placed him in their vehicle. My Dad's wife Harriet had called the above two siblings. John who lives in the area, 25 plus minutes away, made tracks and was there with his family ASAP. John asked to see our father who was zipped up in a body bag and gave him a kiss. Dad was taken to Kutis Funeral home, St. Louis, MO Gravois Ave. location and was embalmed within four hours as was later told to me. My mother passed on August 7, 1984 at the too young age of 63 from cancer ergo my Dad's wife Harriet whom he married on October 3, 1985. She was a mutual friend from church of both of my parents.

Friday, July 2, 2004
Called Southwest Airlines around three AM for a bereavement flight and time table from Tampa, FL to St. Louis, MO one way. I originally had the intention of driving my Dad's car back. They do not have bereavement flights but only cost $231.10. Called United and they have bereavement flights. Their cost was $700, you got to be kidding I said, (hell what's the regular price on short notice I wondered) which was and is ridiculously way too high. Flew out of Tampa Airport at 1245 (EDT) and arrived 1410 (CDT) local. John picked me up. We went to pick up Harriet to go to the funeral home to answer questions to formulate my Dad's obituary, schedule visitation and funeral, grave site opening, full military honors, pall bearers within the funeral home, his attire to be buried in and other questions that would cause anyone the need of either their handkerchief and or a box of Kleenex. My poor frail step-mother who has heart problems and wears a three lead pacemaker. I wondered where she would find the strength for the next week w/o even wondering past that? I had every answer etched in my memory from his birth on November 9, 1919 forward except his social security number which John knew since he had my Dad's wallet and his SS card was in there. I thought how strange since my Dad had been retired since 1978 after retiring from the USAF in 1965 after serving 23 1/2 years. Side note .. I had asked my Dad on numerous occasions of his life’s story from his birth forward so I knew what he did in any given month of any year from 1950 forward since I was old enough to know all after that.

Saturday, July 3, 2004
How strange to be in his home and not seeing him. I can smell him and actually feel his presence. I am sleeping in his queen size bed on his side. When I visit I usually sleep in the same bed but on the other side. We would usually tell silly stories and have a laugh or two before falling asleep. I feel invasive looking through his personal belongings. Geez he kept everything, hmm what a pack rat but with copious detail. He walked the walk and damn well talked the talk. He was a man among men not because he was my father but looking at him totally objectively he was that and so much more. Why are these people looking in his desk and closets? If I have a question who will I ask? Time to really grow up. I thought he would live forever and hero's always do.

Sunday, July 4, 2004
Nancey went to church with Harriet as I stayed home. I have gone through every draw looking for any receipt for what became of the sterling silverware and two antique grandfather clocks which my siblings feel that Harriet had something to do with that. I asked my Dad years ago to sell that huge house after asking the kids, not me, what they wanted and then selling the rest and buy a 60-70k condo and use the profits from his estate for himself and Harriet. I do not expect a thing. I have everything I ever wanted and was given choices over the years to take whatever I wanted. Bingo, found the receipts for the above. Smart cookie my Dad to sell those items. What a gold mine they were for him to reap as well he should have. Way to go Colonel Hardhead Dad, LOL.

Monday, July 5, 2004
I placed his ribbons, missleman's badge and Command Navigator's wings over his left suit pocket, his favorite USAF ring for left ring finger, his watch ready to go, life time American Legion membership pin on left lapel and his SAR, Sons of American Revolution, sash to go around his neck and along with his favorite shirt so says Harriet, appropriate tie with proper tie clasp, full suit with under garments, socks and shoes and took the lot to the funeral home. I am not having a good time and suddenly cry at a drop of a hat. Where are you Dad? How come I can't find you? I hope I have your strength.

Tuesday, July 6, 2004
Well today is the day for most of the visitors to ask the same stupid question, "How do you feel?" Do they really want to know? I will have to keep a civil tongue about myself and remember to smile. What a load of crap. If I had my way, 2 to 3 for an open casket, I would have elected a closed just like my mother wanted. I cried then what not as much since this is an open casket funeral. I often wondered why I didn't cry very much during but afterwards I did. There's always another test in life. If asked I'll tell them how I feel and tell a Dick Downey or Colonel Downey or just your basic Dad story to make me laugh as well as them. The reality of his presence not being seen is about to set in. Where is he I wonder? Is all of this but a bad dream? I walked into the chapel and sat in the very back to gain my composure. I saw a casket in the front opened but could not see who was in there all the while knowing it was MY father. WOW! I finally mustered my strength and headed to the casket and then it hit me like a sudden monsoon when I was about 12 feet away after recognizing my Dad. I simply threw my arms in the air and did a 'to the rear march' and said "I am not ready for this" and went to where I was sitting and cried monsoon tears.Damn I didn't know I cried that loud. Not as tough as you thought you were Richard. My sister asked from the front if I'd liked to have the room cleared for some private time to which I initially said, "No" but just seconds later I said, "Yes I would thanks" and they (family) all left and after hugging my sister as we both cried. I walked at attention to the casket. So that's where you've been, well this sure messes my up plans since I was going to move near you when I officially retire in December to assist you in any way I could and have some good old father son time once again, but now you really went and done it. I just looked at him and cried and cried and with tears streaming down. I looked him over to make sure that he was properly attired with his military decorations and other items. Ok you can wake up now the jokes over. Speaking of family not one on the in-laws or five grown adult grand children expressed their condolences to me. How sad for them that their parents didn't teach them better manners or at least for this episode in all our lives. I mentioned that to my Dad and said I thank you for every thing you have ever taught me in my life and for being my father which I told him in person many times as well as writing him a letter(s) that he was my hero many times over. He lips don't look right. I remember him as a young man rounding third base and sliding safe into home plate playing softball in Spokane, WA at Fairchild AFB in 1951 when I was the team bat boy and now so many wonderful perfect thoughts flood quickly through my mind. What a man that God has called home as some say but I say he died from old age and his body and battery just wore down. That really makes me mad but not at God but the loss of my Dad period and some say selfish. Many friends from his church, Gideon’s and his SAR Chapter are coming to pay their respects. We have set up four easels with various pictures of his life with his family. There is one taken of my Dad and I last year in Albuquerque, NM for the 13th reunion of the 449th Bomb Group Association which he founded. (see below) I met so many hero’s of that era that served with him when they were all in the prime of their youth becoming men over night. Wow two former girl friends have just arrived and looking like a million bucks after all these years. Well they will just have to compare notes. LOL I sure could use a stiff drink and a cigarette but I don't do either any more so a diet Coke well have to suffice. Well here I am surrounded by pretty women, it's a Downey curse as my Mother would say, and I notice this ten walking straight towards me and I mouth to Ginger, "Who is that?" and she just walks right towards me as I stand up and with panache she hugs my neck and pins her body against mine and whispers, "Kathy" and bingo it's my sisters husbands sister who looks like a gazillion dollars after losing at least 25 or better pounds. Shazam and then she's gone as quickly as she appeared. Oh well there's always one that gets away. LOL

Wednesday, July 3, 2004
Well we're all in the chapel waiting for the services to begin and for Pastor Ralph Billingsley to begin the eulogy, I also have many words to say, with his favorite hymns being sung and played in the background. Why do I remember all of these and the words while other family members do not sing silently as I am doing? I am glad that the minister knows my Dad so we won't hear the same old thing per se. Pastor Billingsley is truly affected by this as his voice hesitates and his eye contact is no longer to the crowd. If I didn't mention it before my Dad was a Deacon in the First Baptist Church of St. Louis. Well finally it's my turn and with no notes & spoken from memory without so much of an ahem or ugh but I did cry openly with a big smile talking about him. I could talk about my hero for hours if necessary, just ask.

My Dad certainly lived in a historical time. He was born on November the ninth 1919. His family survived the depression and the stock market crash. He was baptized in 1929 at Euclid Baptist Church and graduated from the old Ben Bluett High School in January 1938 and married actually eloped with my mother on December 24, 1939. They were married in Union, MO in the living room of Rev. Maack. They married because they truly loved each other and wanted to be husband and wife to each other with the benefit of marriage. My mother was baptized at Euclid Baptist Church in 1940. On October 28, 1942 my Dad went to the old post office downtown and tried to enlist in the Marine Corps but they said no sir, you have a wife and she's expecting a baby. He was not detoured as he walked across the hall and joined the US Army Air Corps as an aviation cadet which he qualified for since he had two plus years of college and was sworn in on the spot. I was born the next day. He did not tell either his wife or his mother of his intentions he simply joined which both women totally understood and the fact of how much he loved his country. He knew full well he would go to war and just might not come back especially as a flyer. More flyers were killed during World War II than in ground action. Well he survived and gave 23 and a half years of service to the United States Air Force which was formed in 1947 retiring as a Lt. Colonel in May 1965. Tom Brokaw has referred to that era as the last great generation. All men and women whether serving in the armed forces or not saved the world during that era of time and history. He had a second angina attack, 1976, while bowling in one of his leagues. He had forgotten his nitroglycerin tablets. When I visited him in the hospital with tubes going and coming from just about all of his orifices I grabbed his hand and he says in a very weak voice, "I still bowled 602." (I spoke more and will add later)

I now jump in time to the grave side service. There's an Air Force honor guard waiting for the hearse after his casket was carried from the funeral home by his four male grandsons, Jason (32), Chris (25), Stuart who just turned 22 yesterday and Travis Downey (14) plus two unidentified church members at least to me. If you recently saw President Reagan's funeral service of how the casket was carried and the U.S. flag was folder well these young Air Force men did as well. BLAM one shot from the firing squad as I flinch and another and another then taps is blown. Not a dry eye any where especially mine. I had planned this service in my mind for years asking him how he wanted it done and now the reality of it all. Harriet is sure a trooper through this. My Dad would have been proud as I know he's observing the attention to detail within this military funeral from on high. I said, "Dad old son this is what you wanted" as we had discussed the service many times before. What strength you had, what a leader you were, what a Dad, parent, friend, teacher, counselor, athlete, christian, husband, coach, provider and man. Many thanks for just being you inspite of your faults which far out weighed your life in so many ways. You were the one that always had the family dogs put to sleep and told us even as adults that they died in their sleep to spare us the pain. You are my hero ten fold. I quickly walk to where the firing squad was and pick up the spent brass, shell casing, and give one to each of his seven grand kids and also to the fathers of his great grandsons. What a sad, sad day for those who came to know this man but he's happy laying next to my mother and that's the important part. Boy he really loved that woman. What a class act she was. (more to come)

My Dad and I taken in May 2003 at his 449th Bomb Group Association reunion.