I spotted the “coffee and donut man” as soon as I entered the Green Airport terminal about 5:20 a.m. Sunday.  I hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

The place was packed. A fire department honor guard wearing white gloves, holding flags and their polished shoes glistening, stood chatting. Scouts in uniforms waving American flags lined the escalator leading to departures. Men in kilts, bagpipes over their shoulders, stood waiting. Veterans in red t-shirts – some in wheelchairs – with their guardians in navy blue t-shirts nearby were surrounded by friends and family. Members of PVD Pups and their canine celebrities were greeted by all. Elected state and city officials grouped around the veterans for photos before they left for a full day of visiting war memorials in Washington and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetery.  

This was the sendoff to Honor Flight Charlie (named for North Providence Mayor Charlie Lombardi, whose foundation was a major sponsor) run by the Rhode Island Fire Chiefs Association. Retired Providence Fire Chief George Farrell held the first flight Nov. 3, 2012. He still runs them with a team of dedicated volunteers.

Wayne Moore, aka the coffee and donut man, has been on all but two of those flights out of the more than 32 in 12 years. He has sponsored two of the flights [being a sponsor is a commitment of about $15,000] and is the photographer.

Wayne waved. We shook hands.

Would he host coffee and donuts at the departure gate? “Naturally,” he said. I shouldn’t have expected less.

How did this evolve?  Wayne was too busy to say much. I got his cell and called three hours later when he was in line to get ice cream from a vendor not far from the Korean War Veterans Memorial.

The story of the Farrell/Moore friendship goes back to the days when Farrell was fire chief and Moore was a licensed fire protection engineer with Jensen Hughes. The two got to know each other through work.  In retirement, to this day, they meet for lunch almost monthly.

At one of the lunches at the Capitol Grille following the first honor flight, George told Wayne about it.

“Before he finished, I said count me in,” Wayne recalls.

Wayne’s first trip was as a guardian. He quickly gravitated to the logistics of staging the flights and ensuring that the needs of veterans are met.

“Every flight is different,” says Wayne, recalling the time when the event brought WWII B-25 gunners together. They were both short men [they had to be to squeeze into the nose and tail gun bubble turrets].  They were flying over Poland when they had to ditch the plane. They hadn’t had any parachute training. Looking down, the forward gunner, who had removed his boots to squeeze into the turret, froze. His friend, the tail gunner, pushed him out and pulled the ripcord. He landed safely but at some distance from the rest of the crew.

He was greeted by a Polish woman who, like the rest of population, had been told they would be paid for helping the Americans. The gunner gave the woman his silk parachute and then walked shoeless to rejoin his comrades. Once back at base, the two gunners were assigned to different bombers. And after the war one ended up living in Rhode Island and the other in New Jersey.

The New Jersey resident learned his friend would be in Washington. The Honor Flight arranged for him to attend the mail call that is held at the end of the day at a dinner before boarding to fly back to Green. It was a surprise and one of the many emotional moments Wayne remembers from mail call, when veterans open envelopes to find photos and letters the Honor Flight team has borrowed from friends and family.  Volunteer Julie Latessa, wearing gobs of lipstick, calls out the names and then races to each veteran to hand him the letter, bestowing a kiss on the cheek. Wayne loves watching the reactions.

“Some would say I’m not going to wipe that off,” while others would ask “what am I going to tell my wife?”

As time goes on, there are fewer and fewer WWII and Korean War vets. There were two WWII vets on Sunday’s flight.

A Vietnam vet, Wayne said that while being mustered out at Cameron Bay, he was advised not to wear his uniform home, as returning Vietnam vets were being spit upon. He recalled an observation made on one of the flights:  “WWII vets are thanked for their service, Korean War vets are told they aren’t forgotten and finally Vietnam veterans are welcomed home.”

Second in command to Farrell, Wayne said the honor flights will come to an end when there are no longer Vietnam veterans who want to go. Until then, however, there’s no hint he’ll give up buying coffee and donuts for all those gathered at the departure gate for a daylong experience that shines the spotlight on veterans and recognizes them for what they have done for us.

Wayne’s a vet serving vets.