" I know I’m on my way out ” was the way my Dad spoke of dying the last week of his life. The people who lived through World War II had a kind of stoicism about death that carried them through to the end. The last week of his life, he would reminisce back on some of the days he spent in England during the war.. He even remembered the names of the girls he dated! He always had stories to tell from the mighty Eighth Air Force. The stories they wanted to compile that would leave a record of what they did...what they accomplished and what they left behind... I went with my Dad to his last reunion with the mighty Eighth. Ironically enough, it was held in San Antonio complete with a visit to the Alamo. As with the fall of the Roman Empire, nothing lasts forever. They knew that. But there was a kind of sad but bittersweet connection with the Alamo....those who died for a glorious lost cause. Remember the Alamo... In the latest war...we see the talking faces on TV and those who speak