It�'s not everyday that you get an opportunity to share lunch with a pair of genuine American heroes. But that�'s what happened Jan. 23 to approximately 100 people who came to Edgewood�'s Richlin Ballroom for a special gathering of the Susquehanna Chapter of the Military Officers Association of America (MOAA) featuring appearances by William T. Fauntroy Jr. and Edward James Talbert Jr.
Fauntroy, 87, who lives in Washington, D.C., and Talbert, 91, of Suitland, Md., are documented original Tuskegee Airmen and members of the East Coast Chapter of the Tuskegee Airmen Inc. (ECCTAI).
The Tuskegee Airmen were a pioneering group of African-American fighter pilots, aircraft mechanics and maintenance technicians who served between 1941 and 1949. While serving with distinction and honor, the Airmen were racially segregated and subjected to the discriminatory policies of the Jim Crow era, inside and outside of the Army.
All of the pilots were trained at Moton Field and Tuskegee Army Air Field near Tuskegee, Ala. The Airmen flew 1,267 missions and 6,381 combat sorties during World War II, and they collectively were awarded the Congressional Gold Medal by President George W. Bush and the U.S. Congress in 2007.
The Airmen were the subject of the George Lucas-produced 2012 film �"Red Tails," starring Cuba Gooding Jr. and Terrence Howard.
Among the APG leadership in attendance at the MOAA event were Byron J. Young, executive director of Army Contracting Command; Col. Michael J. Rogers, chief of staff of ACC-APG and a MOAA national director; Col. Gordon Graham, commander of the U.S. Army Aberdeen Test Center; Command Sgt. Maj. Kennis J. Dent, CECOM command sergeant major; and Bruce K. Griffin, program manager of CBRNE Analytical and Remediation Activity (CARA).
ECCTAI Heritage Member Patricia E. Talbert Smith, whose father was one of the featured guests at the event, recalled that she did not even know she was the daughter of a Tuskegee Airman until attending a gathering years ago at a Potomac school where she worked and Ed Talbert was speaking. A parent there in military uniform chatted with Talbert before the program and introduced him as a Tuskegee Airman.
When Smith later asked her father why he never spoke of his special designation, Talbert merely shrugged it off and said, �"We just did what we had to do."
�"That�'s certainly the story of the men and women who did so much to pave the way for all of us," Smith said. �"My dad was one those 14,500 men and women in bases all over the world who supported those 900 pilots. It was a learning experience for me and one I�'m very proud of."
The second of eight children, Fauntroy said he became interested in flying as a youngster living in Northwest Washington, D.C. �"A group of us used to buy model airplanes for 10 cents and build them with a tube of rubber cement," he said. �"We�'d fly them off the roofs of our houses and they would crash."
On Easter Sunday in 1939, Fauntroy recalled at age 13 riding his bicycle to the Lincoln Memorial to watch African-American opera star Marian Anderson sing there after being prohibited from performing at Constitution Hall by the Daughters of the American Revolution because of her race. That watershed moment in civil rights history had a profound impact on Fauntroy.
It also got him into hot water with his mother, who had forbidden him from attending the performance for fear of possible violence. �"When I came home a little late, my mother said, �'Where have you been?�' I couldn�'t lie, so I told her. She said, �'Oh, that�'s nice you saw Marian Anderson. Now put that bicycle in the basement and I�'ll tell you when you can ride it again,�'" he said to gales of laughter.
At age 16, Fauntroy dropped out of school and started working for the federal government. Shortly after the war started, Fauntroy knew of a D.C. Metropolitan Police officer named Wilmeth Sidat-Singh who joined the military and became a Tuskegee Airman. "Well, I had always idolized this gentleman. I wanted to be like him. Unfortunately, he died in a plane accident at Lake Huron before he went overseas," Fauntroy said. "But I wanted to be like him so when I turned 17, I started talking to my mother, �'I want to go in the service. I want to fly.�' I hadn�'t finished high school. I was going to night school. But she reluctantly signed for me."
Fauntroy went into the Army Air Corps in May 1944, did his basic training at Keesler Field in Mississippi, and wound up at the Tuskegee Army Air Field. In May 1945, he was an aviation cadet and in basic flight training when the war ended.
�"We used to say the war ended because we were in training. They heard we were coming and quit," he said to laughter. �"We were fortunate to have men come back from overseas to teach us. One of my claims to fame is my first check ride was with C. Alfred Anderson, who took [Eleanor] Roosevelt up to prove that we could fly. �'Chief�' Anderson taught all of the Tuskegee Airmen how to fly."
Fauntroy said he was -- and continues to be -- in awe of the Tuskegee Airmen who went overseas and fought valiantly in propeller planes, since �"we didn�'t have jets."
�"My instructor at basic [training], Leonard Jackson, came back from overseas. He had shot down three German planes, two on consecutive days. He was a very important person to me," Fauntroy said. �"These kind of people came back and gave little youngsters like me the benefit of not only their courage but their knowledge."
Now a retired civil engineer and urban planner, Fauntroy said he sees the hand of Providence in his not being deployed overseas during the war.
�"I like to think that there was somebody else thinking of little Willie Fauntroy other than Ethel and Willie [his parents]," he said. �"I sort of think God took care of me in all of this. He made sure I touched people all along my way in and out of the service to be a person to talk to folks like you about the experience at Tuskegee. Those men who went before me were talented enough to shoot down German jets and many other planes. I�'m not bragging, I�'m reporting."
Like Fauntroy, Talbert, a Philadelphia native whose father repaired radios at an airport, said he desperately wanted to fly airplanes as a young boy. �"I wanted to fly so badly," he said, recalling that he and his brother used to pretend piloting airplanes. �"That desire always stayed with me."
While taking classes at Howard University and undergoing ROTC training, Talbert got an opportunity to attend flight training courses in Newburgh, N.Y.
�"I got the chance to fly -- for four minutes," he said. �"My instructor gave me the controls and I took the plane up to the left and made a complete circle, and I was so happy I didn�'t know what to do. But he kept banging on his head and I just ignored him. Finally, he took over the controls and said, �'Didn�'t you see my signal?�' I said, �'Yeah, but I was so excited about having control of that airplane, I didn�'t pay much attention.�' When he landed that plane, he gave me up and down because I disobeyed his instructions. But that gave me the thrill of flying for four minutes!
�"And I tell that to everybody, my first comment everywhere I speak -- �'You�'re talking to a Tuskegee Airman who only has four minutes of flying time.�' That was a thrill I�'ll never forget, and I cherish those moments."
After being drafted into the Army in 1943, Talbert trained at Fort Hood in Texas and Keesler Field, and he was honorably discharged in 1946. Not long afterwards, he joined the Air Force Advanced ROTC and was assigned to the 332nd Fighter Wing and worked as the base supply officer at Lockbourne AAB in Columbus, Ohio.
�"People depended on me to get things done," he said. �"I tried to find solutions to the problems. They called me when problems came up and for advice. I didn�'t get a lot of credit, but I did get a lot of satisfaction in helping people. That made me happy."
He recalled that many citizens of Columbus, being a segregated city, were displeased that the 332nd was taking over Lockbourne and �"having Negro pilots in town. So we got segregated in the city," Talbert said. In July of 1950, Talbert was the last officer on the base, turning the keys of Lockbourne over to the National Guard. He was dishonorably discharged from the Air Force two weeks later.
�"After the base closed down, I began to find out life is difficult but when you get satisfaction and people respect what you do and you do it with honesty, it means a great deal," said Talbert, a retired librarian and U.S. Air Force Reserve major. �"Sometimes I felt I was taken advantage of, but I got things done. … The memories are all still there. It wasn�'t as exciting as I wanted it to be, because I wanted to fly so badly, but I did something I was proud of and was respected. I did my best and so be it. I did all I could do."
Staff Sgt. John D. Jeter attended the MOAA event with several of his comrades from the Edgewood-based 29th Combat Aviation Brigade of the Maryland Army National Guard. �"Aviation is such a small community and only a few individuals want to go through it," he said. �"So to see how it all began is exciting, and to see the changes is amazing and motivating. You feel grateful for the sacrifices others have made."
Stan Tunstall, a retired Army colonel who is now a defense contractor, drove up from Centreville, Va., to hear Fauntroy and Talbert talk about their Tuskegee Airmen days.
�"The Tuskegee Airmen have a unique place in our history," Tunstall said. �"So I thought it was important to be here. So many freedoms we enjoy today, it wouldn�'t be that way without the sacrifice of people like these men."
At the Jan. 23 gathering of the Military Officers Association of America, Susquehanna Chapter, Korean War veteran Clarence Fry and his wife Carol (left) were among the attendees who waited in line to get autographs from William T. Fauntroy Jr. (front right) and Edward James Talbert Jr. Fauntroy and Talbert are documented original Tuskegee Airmen (DOTA) and members of the East Coast Chapter of the Tuskegee Airmen Inc.
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