“Maybe this project isn’t just about preserving history. Maybe it’s about healing it, too. About creating space for conversations that never had the chance to happen”

Then came the moment I got to climb inside. Sitting in that cockpit—where only a select few ever sit, most of them pilots—was humbling in the deepest, quietest way. The fit was snug. The visibility, more limited than I’d imagined. The exposure, the vulnerability—it was all there.

Walking alongside Mr. Jones near a B-24, I listened as he recounted what it was like to operate as a gunner, shielding his crew while feeling the weight of responsibility with every mission. He spoke of the P-38 Lightning pilots who flew overhead, protecting bombers like his, and how the Luftwaffe feared them. Standing there, I felt a surge of pride knowing my grandfather was among those pilots—his presence in the skies providing men like Mr. Jones with a fighting chance.

Walking into the U.S. Freedom Pavilion: The Boeing Center felt like stepping into a sacred space. As I stood on the sky bridge, images of the P-38 Lightning glowed across massive screens, while legendary aircraft hung like silent guardians above me. Their presence, heavy with history, stirred something deep within me. In that moment, I felt the weight of my grandfather’s legacy—and the profound responsibility of carrying his story forward.

“The event began with an inspiring speech by Kim Bass, who shared the remarkable story of my grandfather, Philip M. Goldstein Graham, a humble yet extraordinary Jewish American veteran.”

"A memory book compiled by loved ones unlocked years of silence […] For the first time, I saw beyond the grandfather I adored and met Goldie—the courageous pilot who braved the unimaginable."