08/31/2026
This story is taken from a fellow veteran and owner of Aerial Resupply Coffee. You can check his company out at aerialresupplycoffee.com. It has been sanitized for public viewing.
We can all hope Kevin comes to our school. Enjoy and Happy Monday!!
The School Pickup/Drop Off Line
I spent twenty-two years in the Air Force, most of it on the flight line.
Which means I spent years on concrete with two orange wands, directing multi-million-dollar aircraft because apparently even fighter pilots need someone to explain where the heck to park.
Then my daughter’s elementary school sent an email.
The local police couldn’t cover traffic anymore. They needed volunteers.
My wife looked at me.
“No.”
“You literally used to direct airplanes.”
“Airplanes follow instructions.”
She signed me up anyway. Apparently, I needed something to do.
Tuesday, 0715. I showed up in boots, sunglasses, a reflective vest, and two orange traffic wands I still owned... because military.
By 0728, I’d identified the problem:
Parents were doing whatever the heck they wanted.
At 0730, I assumed command.
First Honda Odyssey rolls up.
I point left.
She rolls down her window.
“I usually go....”
I point left again.
She went left.
Next vehicle stops four car lengths short.
I wave him forward.
He moves six feet.
I wave harder.
Sir, this isn’t freaking Battleship.
MOVE FORWARD.
Then came Jennifer in the white Lexus.
Jennifer likes to get out, fix Brayden’s backpack, kiss him goodbye, and watch him walk into school.
Not today, Jennifer.
Brayden exits.
Jennifer opens her door.
I cross both wands.
NEGATIVE.
She points at Brayden.
I point forward.
Mission complete.
MOVE THE AIRCRAFT.
By Wednesday, parents were complaining I was intense.
One mother told the principal I had motioned aggressively.
Ma’am.
I spent two decades communicating next to running jet engines.
There are no gentle hand signals.
Thursday, someone attempted an unauthorized U-turn.
I stopped the intersection and pointed down the designated route.
He corrected.
Nobody tried that stuff again.
By Friday, people learned.
Backpacks were on.
Cars pulled all the way forward.
Nobody blocked the crosswalk.
Monday morning, the entire rush cleared in eight minutes.
The principal walked out with coffee.
“This is the smoothest drop-off has ever been.”
“Flow control.”
She looked at my orange wands.
“Do you really need those?”
A Toyota started creeping into the crosswalk.
I raised one wand.
It stopped immediately.
“Yes.”
Yesterday the school asked if I’d volunteer all year.
My daughter asked me to stop calling the kindergarten entrance Alpha Taxiway.
Negative.
The Air Force taught me one thing:
You can move an incredible amount of equipment through a very small piece of concrete if everyone stops doing whatever the flip they want.
- Kevin
