As a child he often wondered what he was going to be when he grew up.
The possibilities were amazing. He could weave music, his fingers dancing across the piano. He could read it, write it, live it.
He could draw. The compliments came from all directions bolstering his confidence. He could paint. He could create.
As he got older that creativity refined itself. He focussed on designing and creating tools that could in themselves create a better world.
“Virgil, son, you are an engineer at heart.”
And engineer he did. Build he did. He grew up and became exactly what the world needed him to be.
He flew. He saved lives. Every hand he caught was a life he contributed to.
Virgil Tracy made the world a better place.
And he loved. And was loved.
He touched lives.
And was in turn touched.
That little boy had become a good man.
He had no regrets except perhaps that it all had to end so soon.