In 1986, Cadet First Class Billy Mengers taught me everything I needed to know about taking care of a team.
As a brand-new freshman at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, I was a long way from home in November 1986. I was barely 150 pounds, I was getting yelled at by upperclassmen morning, noon, and night, and my life was a profoundly unpleasant experience as a new 4th classman at the Air Force Academy.
I deeply respected our cadet leadership in 5th Squadron. Our "Wolfpack" Squadron Commander, "Shafe" Shafer, and our exchange officer Marine Corps commander, Major Tice, were impeccable leaders. And everyone in the chain between me and those two men were equally fine. As a group, they had transformed my classmates and me through basic training into dedicated and highly-motivated (but extremely tired) Officer Candidates. The pressure they were applying to us all in my Wolfpack freshman class was creating a sense of teamwork and camaraderie I had never before known. Along with my two roommates, Tom McCarthy and Mike Atigna, we were all determined to get through the grueling year ahead and become outstanding officers in the Air Force. We were inspired and motivated each day by our fully-engaged, extremely-demanding upperclassmen as we navigated the intense rigors of four-degree cadet life at USAFA back in the day.
Billy Mengers, our 5th Squadron Operations Officer and a "Firstie" (a senior), knocked loudly on our door.
"YES SIR!!" Mike Atigna yelled. We all jumped up at attention in our T-shirts & boxer shorts, Mengers standing in the doorway facing me with intense eyes.
It was after 8 pm, we were covered in sweat from a long 'training session' that had just finished out in the hallway, and although we were supposed to be studying academics for the next day, we were all just sitting there in silence, recovering from it together. It had been a tough day with very little food and a whole lot of push ups. Mike had snuck a jar of peanut butter home from the dining hall and he was opening it up at his desk.
"JINNETTE COME ON OUT HERE."
I was scared. I knew I must have been in deep trouble. I didn't know why.
I was standing in my underwear, braced at attention in the dim light on the gray carpet outside my brown wood-stained door. The look I had on my face surely let Billy know I needed to relax.
"Stand at ease, Jinnette." In the emptiness of the hallway, Billy Mengers, who I had never actually spoken with in close quarters, ever, stood right in front of me and looked me in the eyes. "Jinnette, we have some tough news," he said quietly.
"Your Dad just called and let us know your Grandfather died earlier today."
..."You all right?" Of course I wasn't.
..."Listen, I want to know if you were close to your Grandfather."
"Yes sir, my Grandaddy means a lot to me and this news makes me sad; he was a good man," I answered."
"That's all I need. Carry on, Jinnette, and I'm real sorry to hear this news too."
------
30 minutes later, Cadet First Class Mengers was back at our door.
"Jinnette, I've worked with Major Tice to secure a 3 day pass for you to get home for your Mama." I have your Dad on the phone right now, come on down here to the CQ desk and let's work out the details together."
I was in shock.
4th Classmen at the Air Force Academy didn't 'Get Home" during the academic year, al all, ever, except for normal, scheduled academic breaks like Christmas and Spring Break. It was just unheard of. It was just not done. So, I was at once not wanting to leave my classmates USAFA for any reason at all due, to a strong duty concept about pulling my full weight in the squadron, and not wanting to stick out and be 'different,' and at the same time, thoroughly confused that Cadet Mengers, this high-ranking cadet person I was previously terrified of, was helping me arrange some sort of unheard of permission to go home.
Cadet Mengers walked me in the dim lighted hallway down to the phone at the desk, in my dark blue full-length raincoat and flip-flops (because the USAFA Class of 1990 had no issued bathrobes yet, and I had been getting ready to walk to the common shower.) He stood with me at the desk as I talked to my dad. Then, as I hung up the phone, told me he'd heard all the words and would take care of talking to the SATO Airline reservation office for me the next morning, that he had payment info from my Dad. That we had "travel dates and a plan, all I needed was tickets and a ride to the airport," and that he'd "handle all of it." I was speechless, and my head was spinning as I flip-flopped my way at attention back down the right side of the long empty hallway back to my room.
"What just happened?"
After a day of coordination, Cadet Mengers deposited me at the departure gate at Colorado Springs airport, having driven me there himself in his car, wishing me a good trip and promising to sort out my transportation back to the Academy on the return. He made sure I had the number to call. In his car, I was still fairly speechless at the planetary collision between my generalized fear of speaking to an upperclassman (much less a Firstie) like Cadet Billy Mengers, and the way he was so thoroughly caring for me throughout this entire evolution of events. He didn't even know me.
"Thank you Cadet Mengers, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you helping me like this."
"Jinnette, you just get on home and be there for your Mama. We'll see you back here soon."
I was the only passenger on the 727 airliner from C-Springs to Denver. Sitting in row 18, skinny as a rail with hat-head from my round Service Dress wheel-cap, I had 4 flight attendants feeding me cookies and punch in my dark blue Air Force Uniform. "Why don't you come on up to first-class?"
It was just so meaningful. I was home to Goldsboro, I was there for all the family visitation events, and my Grandaddy's funeral in Princeton North Carolina. And although I wasn't overwhelmingly sad (my Grandaddy had lived a long life and became a man of deep Christian faith in his later years), it really meant a tremendous thing to me to be able to be with my mother and our family for all the activities that went on around the funeral. I even had a chance to drop by a high school football game after all of it was over, and see friends before my return flight the next morning.
I can't remember another direct conversation at all with Cadet Mengers during the entire remainder of my freshman year. We were back at it, I was heads-down trying to be the best Four-Degree freshman at USAFA I could be, and life rolled on. Billy Mengers graduated and became a great B-52 pilot. I finally had a chance during a November 2007 Green Flag exercise at Barksdale Air Force Base Louisiana, while visiting there as deployed Commander of the 335th Fighter Squadron 'Chiefs.' I let him know just how much what he had done for me 21 years earlier had meant to me, even then, as I was actively taking care of the men & women in the Squadron I was blessed there and then to Command.
He hadn't changed a bit.
To this day, I remember, and I credit Billy Mengers - every time I have the privilege to personally take care of a teammate who needs some help.
Billy Mengers, and all our 5th Squadron Wolfpack leaders back then- and the way they took care of me as a four-degree freshman at USAFA in 1986 - taught me how servant leadership really feels when you are being cared for by a great leader.
Thanks Bill.
