My mom always taught me that learning is everything, and, on Oct. 28, I got a history lesson of a lifetime. I had the honor of being a guardian on the second Triad Flight of Honor, and now that I’m back, I’ve had some time to reflect on the memories created that day.

First of all, I have to say that veterans are a national treasure. I feel so blessed that I could play even a small part in the day that honored our World War II veterans in such a fitting way.

Before the trip, the veterans and guardians met in a church in Kernersville to get our T-shirts and to educate us on all we needed to know for our world whirl-wind trip of our nation’s capital.

The day before the trip, I was a little worried because I’m naturally a night owl and I knew I needed to get in bed early enough to get some sleep. But this was the most exciting day of my life, so with no alarm clock necessary, I sprang out of bed at 3:08 a.m. I was ready to get the show on the road. My mission was to get two precious veterans, Carroll Wagoner, 84, and Ed Reynolds, 89, to the airport in time. I was in charge of three for the day, but veteran Otto Langhurst, 87, insisted on driving himself. I later found out it was because he smokes, and he didn’t want to have to ride in a car when he couldn’t smoke. He had a good point about smoking though, he said, “I’m 87 years old, there’s no point in quitting now.”

We made it to the airport on time and walked to a coffee shop in the terminal where the men got a cup of coffee. As we sat down in front of a huge picture window, we had a chance to view the chartered U.S. Airways plane that we would later board. It was a quiet time to prepare for the best day of our lives.

As we boarded the plane around 8 a.m., I was excited to experience the water cannon salute I had seen on television from the first flight on Oct. 3. Unfortunately, I had an aisle seat, and with three seats on each side, it was almost impossible to see out the window. It looked much more impressive from the outside of the airplane. After our flight, I went online to see our plane go through it, and it brought me to tears.

I really hate to fly, but I had made up my mind that I would have to grin and bear it. This mission was much too important to let my fears stand in the way.

As the plane took off, Otto saw my panic and grabbed hold of my hand and I felt safe.

A short 39 minutes later, we touched down in Washington, D.C., where the veterans received another water cannon salute as our plane pulled up to Reagan National Airport. As we entered the airport, we were greeted by the sounds of a brass band playing and people were clapping and cheering. It was then that I really knew we were participating in something really special.

As we boarded the buses, the clouds that seemed to follow us to Washington, suddenly disappeared. We rode on the white bus (they were color-coded red, white and blue). We were quickly introduced to our guide for the day, Ret. Col. Jim Carr with the U.S. Army Reserves. He was so passionate about history and was sure to point out all of the pertinent points along our route to the long awaited arrival at the World War II Memorial.

When the buses pulled up to the Pacific end of the monument, we were greeted by Sens. Richard Burr and Kay Hagan, and Fifth District Rep. Virginia Foxx posed for pictures and talked to all those who wanted to bend her ear.

Our tour guide took me and my veterans aside and showed us where the designer of the monument etched “Kilroy was here.” He really made us feel like Washington insiders with all of the knowledge that he bestowed upon us that day.

As we made our way around the memorial, I was kind of waiting to see a tear fall down the cheek of some of the veterans. That didn’t happen, but what I did see was the joy in their eyes. It was, I believe, a glimpse of pride that they were finally being acknowledged for defending our freedom more than 60 years ago.

As we were preparing to move over to the lunch tent, the veterans got to see their hero, former Sen. Bob Dole, who not only served in the war but was three times decorated for heroism — receiving two Purple Hearts for his injuries and the Bronze Star with a combat “V” for valor for his attempt to assist a downed radio man. He was instrumental in seeing the monument to fruition before all of the World War II veterans were no longer around to see it.

After we left the WWII Memorial, we toured several other memorials. I especially loved the FDR Memorial, and the new Air Force Memorial was simply spectacular.

There is just something about Washington, D.C. As a photographer, I know it is the most beautiful city I have ever seen. There’s something to see around every corner. As an American, it’s something to be proud of that reminds us of where we have been and where we are going as a nation.

On our way back home, we were sad to leave such a beautiful city, but the veterans were ready to get home to their families. On the plane, they announced that there were more than 1,000 people waiting for us on the ground in Greensboro.

In my preparation for the trip, I had carefully ironed handkerchiefs the way I used to for my father. I was surprised that I hadn’t needed them earlier in the day, and by the day’s end, I really didn’t expect to get emotional. But on the plane, mail call was announced just the way they used to do for the soldiers when they were away at war.

Looking over Mr. Reynolds’ shoulder, I read a letter from a seventh grader thanking him for his service for our country. And while I can’t remember the words, I remember how it made me feel — proud, because I was sitting among heroes. These men who are referred to as the “Greatest Generation” and the “Silent Generation” were finally getting the praise they deserved. That’s when the handkerchieves came out.

As we deplaned in Greensboro, we were also greeted by cheers, but I had no idea how it would feel to see the more than 1,200 people who had come out to celebrate these veterans. As we got up to the crowd, a woman holding a sign that said, “Daddy, You are my Hero,” stepped out of the crowd with huge tears in her eyes and hugged her father. It was Carroll Wagoner’s daughter, Harriett Childress. I felt such a sense of warmth flood over me as the tears started to flow. I don’t think there was a dry eye in the whole place.

I want to say thank you to everyone who came out to PTIA that night to create such a warm welcome home and to give these veterans the respect and honor they deserve. I also want to thank Rotary District 7690, our Flight Director Jeff Sims and LeeSa Cornelius, guardian coordinator, who made it all happen, for all of their hard work.

I know that sometimes we get caught up in politics, but at the end of the day, we are citizens of this nation, and we are stronger for the sacrifice of those who passed before us, those who fought for our freedom.

What really strikes me when I look back on this day was that the most important thing wasn’t the big granite memorial — sure we are all glad it is there — but it’s the human connections that were built that day. Those connections will last a lifetime and the memory of that day will live in our hearts forever.

I am proud to be an American, and God Bless the USA!

Mondee Tilley is a staff reporter with The Mount Airy News. She can be reached at mtilley@mtairynews.com or at 719-1930.