On the somewhat blustery morning, Aledo Police Chief Carol Riddle welcomed the group, saying Veterans Day “is not just a date on the calendar. It’s a reminder of the cost of our freedom, and the character of those who defended it.”
Riddle then led the Pledge of Allegiance.
Sarah Duke, owner of Destiny Music Studio, sang the National Anthem, and Aledo City Council Member Summer Jones provided an invocation.
“Every generation has its heroes — those who answer the call that most people don’t hear,” Mayor Shane Davis said. “They don’t do it for the glory, they don’t do it for the money, and they sure don’t do it for the money. They do it because they’re loyal to our country.”
Guest speaker CDR Tony “Brick” Wilson, USN (ret), who is an F-35 test pilot at Lockheed Martin, gave the keynote address. Wilson likened military service to the life of a test pilot, describing a jet being launched by a catapult on an aircraft carrier.
“That moment captures what service feels like. You don’t know where the flight will take you, or what storms you’ll face – but you trust your training, your team, and the mission. And then… you go.” (CDR Wilson’s comments are attached to this story).
Following the ceremony guests were treated to coffee and breakfast tacos from the Yummy Café and Sweets Food Truck, a veteran-owned business.
Editor’s Note: These are the remarks by CDR Tony Wilson at Aledo’s Veterans Day Ceremony. We felt they should be put down on paper for permanence.
By CDR Tony “Brick” Wilson, USN (Ret)
Good morning, Aledo.
It’s good to be home, in a town that knows the sound of freedom, the weight of service, and the meaning of community.
Now, when I say home, I don’t just mean where I live – I mean where I chose to land.
For a lot of veterans, “home” isn’t the place we grew up or where the Navy sent our mail – it’s the place we finally found peace, purpose, and people who understand what service means.
That’s what Aledo is for so many of us, a landing spot after a long flight.
I’ve spent a lot of my life in the sky. For me, service began strapped into a jet – the roar of an engine behind me, a patch on my shoulder, a promise on my heart – and a checklist that was way shorter than the one my wife handed me before deployment.
There’s a sound every pilot never forgets – the catapult shot off the carrier. It’s violent and beautiful all at once – that sudden, unstoppable launch into the unknown.
That moment captures what service feels like. You don’t know where the flight will take you, or what storms you’ll face – but you trust your training, your team, and the mission. And then… you go.
That’s the takeoff – the first stage of service. But every flight has phases: takeoff, turbulence, and steady flight. And in each one, we learn something new about what it means to serve.
Turbulence comes fast.
It’s the deployment far from home. It’s the long night over hostile skies. It’s the weight of leadership when lives depend on you.
And sometimes the turbulence isn’t enemy fire – it’s paperwork, politics, and PowerPoint. Anyone who’s ever sat through a safety brief that went two hours long knows what I mean.
But that’s where service gets refined.
It’s where you learn that courage isn’t the absence of fear – it’s flying through it.
You learn that leadership isn’t about giving orders – it’s about earning trust.
And you learn that freedom isn’t free – and it never will be.
Every veteran here knows that feeling – of being pushed, tested, changed. And though our uniforms differ, the story is the same: we launched, we fought the turbulence, and we stayed on course.
Eventually, the flight levels out. The skies clear. You look out over the horizon and realize something powerful – you were never flying alone. Every mission, every success, every homecoming – it was because of the people on your wing.
That’s what I think of on Veterans Day. Not medals, not ranks – but faces.
Wingmen who had my back. Marines, Sailors, Soldiers, and Airmen who made the impossible happen.
And of course, families – the ones who kept the household airworthy while we were gone.
To the families here in Aledo – thank you. You are the quiet heroes of every veteran’s story.
And to my brothers and sisters in arms – your steady flight, your mentorship, your humor, your grit – it continues to lift us all.
Every flight has to land.
You know, landing on an aircraft carrier at night was always one of the most challenging parts of naval aviation. You’re coming back from a mission, low on fuel, everything’s dark except a few flickering lights on a pitching deck in the middle of the ocean.
The only thing guiding you is a tiny ball of light – the “meatball” – and a calm voice from a landing signal officer saying, “You’re a little high… a little low… power… come left.”
It takes trust – in your training, in your crew, and in the people guiding you home.
Transitioning out of the service feels a lot like that. You’re flying toward a new life, trying to find your lineup, hoping you don’t miss the deck completely.
And just like on those carrier approaches, you need your crew – your family, your community, your fellow veterans – talking you through it, helping you find the right glide path. And when you finally catch that wire – when you feel the jolt of landing and realize you’ve made it – that’s when you exhale, take a breath, and start the next chapter.
Now, that landing can be… rough. Some of us bolter or bounce a few times before we find the runway.
After all the miles, the noise, the missions – you touch down. The engines quiet. The adrenaline fades. And suddenly, it’s not about war stories or call signs anymore – it’s about
figuring out who you are without the uniform.
But that’s when we start to see service in a new way – not in sorties or deployments, but in classrooms, boardrooms, and backyards.
We become the coaches, the mentors, the volunteers – the ones who help our communities fly a little higher.
That’s the final phase – The Next Mission. We don’t hang up our purpose when we hang up the uniform. We just get reassigned.
Here in Aledo, you see that mission everywhere, veterans leading Scout troops, serving at church, starting businesses, showing young people what integrity looks like.
Service never ends – it evolves. The mission continues. And whether your cockpit today is an office, a classroom, or a kitchen table, you still carry that same checklist: honor, courage, commitment.
That’s what keeps America flying true.
So today, under this big Texas sky, let’s remember: The measure of a veteran isn’t how high we’ve flown – it’s how well we keep serving when our boots are back on the ground.
To my fellow veterans, thank you for flying the line.
To the families, thank you for keeping us aloft.
And to this incredible town of Aledo, thank you for reminding us that service still matters, and that freedom still has a home.
May we all keep flying the next mission – together.
God bless you.
God bless our veterans.
And God bless the United States of America.
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