A Saber Jet F-86, tail number 176

As a child I asked my father what was the tail number the F-86 plane he flew when he was a pilot of the 11th Fighter Squadron in Talara AFB. My love of assembling scale models had led me to complete a small model of F-86 and I wanted to give it a touch of realism and nostalgia. My father had retired to just under 10 years ago and his love for the air force had not diminished. In my childish mind I could perceive the nostalgia of my father. He constantly repeated that flying and sports were the most important activities of his life. In reality it was his family since I grew up with the devoted love of my parents and the permanent presence of my father.

Arming the small model and giving it a personal touch was my way of returning the love that my father lavished on me every day.

"The plane Saber that I was flying was one, seven, six ..." 176 was going to be. My childish hands barely finished the model and became the permanent presence of the small exhibition of airplanes that moved throughout the house of my parents depending on the time.

After the years and being an officer of the Peruvian Air Force, my new wife and I began our married life in the Air Group No. 4 located in Arequipa. During the first months we were dedicated to discover the beauty of the "White City", taking long trips in our old VW (as far as the fuel and the meager money of my humble salary allowed it). One day we discovered the "airplane park" located in the district of Yanahuara. This park had been brand new and at the center it showed an F-86 in attitude of perennial climb, up, always up, up to the stars ... The vegetation and the trees were still fresh and the urbanized zone as new.

A few days ago, my wife and I, we had the opportunity to return to our beloved Arequipa, long-awaited trip after 26 years of remoteness but constant and grateful memory.

Before returning to the airport I asked the taxi driver to take a small detour to go through the park of the plane.

The morning sun fell sideways on the old F-86 that continued with its fervent and eternal ascent. This time the trees shaded the aerial machine, framing it in exuberant nature. The dome seems to have been replaced by an unorthodox plexiglass and the pigeons have left their marks, but the old Saber continues to impress the eye.

The tail number? nothing less than the 176, the airplane of my father, the number that I glued in the small model several decades ago, model that accompanied my father during the last goodbye to the pilot, the father, the husband, who has just left in fast and infinite flight to the firmament, to the celestial grounds.

I observed the Saber on its pedestal. The taxi driver waits impatiently thinking about how much to increase the fare. I can not stay longer. It will be for another occasion. I feel that the spirit of my father and the other pilots who flew that plane is still in the silver metal armor of the Saber. So, that monument is fulfilling its original purpose and will always be another reason to return to our beloved Arequipa.