July 2016, I’m working as the Asst. Chief Flight Instructor at the Culver Military Academy in Indiana, when I get a phone call from our chief pilot, needs me to immediately drive back to Chicago, and help fly a VIP to Kentucky the next day on our Citation. Days before, I had seen in the news former Bears Coach Ryan (credited for the ‘86 Bears Super Bowl win) had recently passed away, and as it turns out, we’d be flying Coach Ditka & his wife to the funeral. Now, this was my first celebrity flight, and I couldn’t wait to get through the day so I could tell my dad (a big Bears fan) all about it. Coach & his wife arrive, board our plane, and off we go. After we land, the line crew pull up the rental car, and to our surprise, Coach announces we’re now their chauffeurs for the day. So here I am, driving Coach Ditka, and the Mrs, to the funeral home for the wake. We pull up to this old school Kentucky home turned funeral parlor. News crews everywhere, state troopers directing traffic, and we find a spot to park. “Okay, we’ll wait here, just let us know when you’re ready.”, I announce. “Oh no, you boys are coming in with us.”, says Mrs. Ditka. Okay then. We follow them in, walk down the hallway and into a large room. There’s a line waiting to pass by Coach Ryan’s casket, and immediately, I start to point out (in my head, of course) “there’s an ‘86 Bear, there’s an ‘86 Bear, another ‘86 Bear….”. Now, not having met or known Coach Ryan or any of his family, we politely excuse ourselves to the kitchen and graze on some snacks. After maybe forty-five minutes, Coach Ditka finds us, and announces they want to drive into town for lunch. On the way in, we pass a small cigar shop, Coach says “this is good, pull over.”. We park, everyone bails out, and Coach makes a bee line for the cigar shop. I poke around alongside him, while he finds a few cigars to his liking, makes his purchase, and we all head next door to a panini joint. Sandwiches in hand, we step outside to enjoy lunch at the tables out front. It was here where Coachs personality really shined, because every few minutes or so, a passerby would recognize him, approach, and politely ask for a photo. Without missing a beat, Coach would put down his sandwich, wipe his mouth, stand up, shake the strangers hand, then hand me their camera phone and stand next to them for a photo. He must have stood at least a dozen times during lunch, and every time he was just as glad to meet this new person as he was the last. With lunch complete, we then traveled to the church for the funeral, and wouldn’t you know it, the Mrs again insisted we join them. “Now my dad’s really going to flip.” I think, as we enter for what would be a full Catholic mass. Having grown up in a Catholic family, I knew what to expect. I sat between the captain and Mrs Ditka, with Coach on the other side of her. The mass was very nice, and soon came time for the sign of peace. I shook a few hands in the pews around me, but the hand I really wanted to shake, was Coach Ditka’s. “Peace be with you, Coach.”. “You too, kid.”. It brought a grin from ear to ear I’ll never forget. After the funeral, it was back to the plane for the return trip to Chicago. Coach tipped u$ both very generously, before they excused themselves to our company picnic table, while they waited for their driver. The picture below was taken by a friend from his office, of me making sure the Ditkas were taken care of while they waited. Two of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Peace be with you, Coach.