Slain pilot left his mark in
By Timothy Cubero Jr.
the air and the classroomEditor's note: John Latchum Jr. was killed in the early morning hours of June 3 during an attempted burglary at the Waianae Army Recreation Center, where Latchum was vacationing with his wife and children. Two men, ages 17 and 20, have been arrested in connection with his death.
Chief Warrant Officer John Latchum Jr. was a Blackhawk helicopter pilot with the U.S. Army's 2nd Battalion, 25th Aviation Regiment, 25th Infantry Division (Light).
To his immediate family, he was a husband to his wife, Wendy, and a father to his two young children, Joshua and Breanna.
To me, he was a student of mine at the Wheeler Army Air Field extended campus of Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University.
Our class was just one of many classes with more than 100 other ERAU locations on military installations throughout the world, offering accredited undergraduate and graduate degree programs in aviation and aerospace education.
John and his co-workers would meet with me every Friday evening for four hours in a very traditional-looking classroom next to the Wheeler helicopter air field.
Our nightly mission -- Humanities 122: English Composition and Literature I.
Our academic semester together started on Good Friday of this year with a June 12 completion date not too far away. The final time we would have the pleasure of John's presence as a learning colleague was on May 29.
That Friday evening, John came prepared as he always was. This time, he came ready to give a formal oral presentation and reflection on "Ulysses," a Lord Tennyson poem he and his group members had selected in advance.
He was eager to start and interested in getting back an early rough draft of a lengthy essay project that he had submitted the previous week for my review.
As class was getting ready to begin, I could tell something was on John's mind. I learned he was hoping to attend the graduation of his daughter on this same night. It was close by.
His learning comrades did not see it as a dilemma and let him go first. His mission accomplished, John conveyed before leaving early that he would like to come back after his daughter's graduation to seek advice on the final essay project.
If it had been any other student, perhaps the person would have taken the rest of the night off. But John was sure of what he wanted to do.
The helicopter air field next to our room was quiet that evening. Hours later, our class was finally done, yet amid the traffic of students going out the door, there appeared John. He had kept his promise and returned.
We sat for the next 40 minutes or so in the empty classroom, conferring on his final paper. He knew what questions to ask. He knew what to look for. He was prepared, so as not to waste my time or his.
With determination and conviction, John stated, "I will get this paper ready for you." We closed our books.
Because John wanted to examine a new draft, arrangements were made for him to drop his paper off at my home that weekend with the hope of picking it up on Wednesday before our next class. "But call me, John, before you come over," I said. We smiled, for he understood my occasional absentmindedness.
Although we were finally done for that night, John stayed back. He could have left but waited for me to pack my books and papers. He stood by the light switch on the opposite side until I made my way across the dim hallway.
We continued to talk as we walked to our cars in the empty parking lot. His voice revealed a sense of peace and contentment more tranquil than the repose of that night, for he disclosed that, after dropping off his new rough draft at my home as he had done in the past, he would take his family up to the Waianae Army Recreation Center for vacation.
That planned time with his family, I could tell, was something he embraced with much anticipation.
Tuesday came fast, but John never called me after that last Friday night. He was probably busy, I thought.
Before going to bed Tuesday night, I made my final comments on his expository draft. It was already 1:30 in the morning and, little did I know, probably around the same time that John's life was taken. My ignorance allowed me to sleep.
Caught in traffic the next afternoon, I found my eyes trained on the front cover of the Star-Bulletin held up by a newsboy. As I quickly drove by, I could barely make out part of the headline. But what I was able to scan bothered me: "Soldier on vacation shot."
Was it a coincidence? I was afraid, and my doubts were later very much confirmed.
I am deeply hurt and grieve for what has happened to John and his family. I will remember the name John Latchum Jr., and will never forget the good and extraordinary deeds he did as a pilot in the skies and as a student in my classroom.
Our class at Wheeler Army Air Field had no choice but to reconvene on June 5 as scheduled, this time without John. We recalled what we had shared in discussion that Friday before -- the poem John and his group had presented: "Ulysses."
I had jotted down his group's reflections of the poem, not realizing it would be his final class night with us: "Live life to the fullest...Don't forget who you've met and what you see...As you reflect back on life, it's never too late to try a newer world."
Ulysses was a seasoned warrior and traveler. His purpose was to sail beyond the sunset and baths of the western stars. John Latchum Jr. was a 14-year veteran of the Army, who piloted Blackhawk helicopters with a tour of duty in Hawaii.
In my vision and in my heart, both were legendary heroes whose human desires were more than ready to set off again to encounter and embrace experience, courage, adventure and knowledge. Both men lived a life of commitment.
John's personal commission was to his country, his family, his college studies, and to the world and a society that he never failed to believe in.
John, for those of us lucky to travel the many flights of human desires you so readily embraced, greet us with your pilot's wings when our own tour of duty becomes complete on this earth.
Timothy Cubero Jr. is an English lecturer with
Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University, which holds
classes at Wheeler Army Air Field.