I was just thinking about Francis Gary Powers—a Cold War-era U.S. Air Force pilot who later joined Central Intelligence Agency where he was trained to fly the U-2 spy plane. Powers was tasked with a flyover near Sverdlovsk, Russia. The date was May 1, 1960. He was shot down, tried by the Russians, found guilty, and sentenced. Eventually, a spy swap between the U.S. and Russia - we got Powers, Russia got Rudolf Abel, a KGB officer, brought Powers home.

Francis Gary Powers holding model of U-2 Spy Plane — Powers holding model of U-2 Spy Plane.

I remember Powers and that dark plane with those incredibly long, thin wings, being in the newspaper almost every day. It was an exciting time, and after being vilified for a long time, he became a hero. Francis Gary Powers had a goal in life, exemplified when he climbed aboard that U2 plane—to keep us free. After Powers went out of the newspapers, I often wondered what happened to him; what new goals had he set for himself. Years later I would get my answer.

Operation Grand Slam - planned flight of Francis Gary Powers — Operation GRAND SLAM—The planned spy mission over the U.S.S.R on May 1, 1960. Powers flight was supposed to land in Norway.

In my last year of high school, I had a buddy, a nerdy sort—the type who would later go on to run the world with their computers. This day we were talking about what we wanted to do – I wanted to move to California, write stories and go to movies. My buddy wanted to be a medical doctor.

“Sounds like a good career choice for you,” I said, "you're so smart."

“I don’t know, Hayden. It’s not the studies. It’s... it’s just that, well, by the time I become a doctor I’ll be 28 years old!”

The figures caught me off guard. When you're 18 years old, 28 years old is like the definition of old. But I thought of something, “How old will you be if you don’t become a doctor?” I mean, you’re still going to be 28 years old. You might as well wake up on your 28th birthday and be a doctor, instead of waking up on your 28th birthday and being a . . .”

“AARRGH A WRITER!” My friend thought that was really funny.

I would like to say my buddy grasped the math, went on to become a doctor, made big bucks and promised me free appendectomies for my sagaciousness. I would like to say that.

I did go to California, I did write stories and I saw a lot of movies. A decade later I went back home for a visit. I called my buddy and got invited to dinner to meet his family. After dinner we sat around and talked and had coffee. Then we went into his home office. All around the walls were bookshelves. Almost all the books were medical novels or medical reference books. His wife was a nurse, and he was making a good living selling medical insurance. He said he liked the stories I wrote.

When my daughter, Leah, got to be around five years old, we’d have this conversation about twice a week at dinner. "Leah, we’re going to go to a movie tonight. You can either have dessert now or wait and in the movie have some popcorn or candy and a Coke.”

“I want dessert now!” she’d decide

I’d say, “OK.” Then we would go through the scene at the movie when she decided that she actually would like to have some popcorn or candy and a Coke. I’d refuse, reminding her of the decision she’d made a dinner.

She was a very smart 5-year-old and it took about 7 or 8 movies until... “I think I’ll wait and have some stuff in the movie, Dad.”

It was a major breakthrough in Leah’s life.

To be successful in life, to be happy in life, you must be willing to give up short-term goals for long-term goals. It is one of the most difficult facts of life to learn and certainly one of the most valuable.

Insurance salesman now or doctor later. Dessert now, or popcorn, candy and a Coke later.

In the late 70s, I was writing for films and magazines in Los Angeles. I proposed an article to a local magazine about Francis Gary Powers who was now flying a traffic-report helicopter for KNBC TV station. It seemed an interesting story: from flying a spy plane over Russia reporting on missile silos to flying a helicopter over L.A., reporting on backed-up traffic on the Santa Monica Freeway.

I called Powers, and we got-on and talked at length about current events - he really liked Star Wars, not so much Jimmy Carter as President and we both whined about the heat wave. Finally, I broached the idea of a story about what he was doing and what was he looking forward to doing in the near and far future. Powers became despondent and worried how he’d come off in the article. He didn’t want to look like his life had collapsed. I told him I didn't write ambush journalism. I told him I'd be happy to write only about his new goals in life. He said he didn’t have any. I saw where this was going, so I brought up Star Wars again, then told him I had an interview set-up with Tom Bradley, the newly elected mayor of Los Angeles. Then, when we were both comfortable talking about present-time stuff, I suggested that when, not if, he got into something that he felt would make the story upbeat, that he’d feel good about, to give me a call.

He never called. We never talked again. One afternoon a couple of months later Power’s helicopter failed. The reports in the newspaper said he had known that he was going to die and had maneuvered his craft so as to avoid a schoolyard filled with children at recess. Sure; once a hero.

I often wondered if Powers had been working on some new long-term goal we had talked about him finding. Then I figured he probably hadn’t found that goal, instead maybe just looking-forward every morning to helping the car-bound find their way, because giving up short-term goals for long-term goals, working toward and meeting those goals, is what keeps us alive.

I Was Just Thinking About . . . Francis Gary Powers