My father Richard Dirga died on Monday, May 13.
Tall and strong, he was the oak at the center of our family tree. He had a precise mind, an easy smile and a gentle, firm heart.
For years he flew on Cold War missions for the U.S. strategic air command, doing things like taking off from Alaska and flying over the North Pole on Soviet reconnaissance. After retiring from the Air Force as Lieutenant Colonel, he earned degrees in English literature and electronics.
He never stopped wanting to know more. Our house was full of books. He believed we should know about the whole wide world. He was always there for my brother and I with advice, encouragement and love.
One of his best friends of the past 50 years told him at the end, “You’re the pilot.” He really was. He told us a lot the last few months how grateful he was for all that he got to have, and he fought so very hard to stay.
There’s so much more I could say, but all I can tell you now is how much we will miss him. He was the pilot.
Obituary: My father.
Nik Dirga 
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