
A taste of home, away from home
(From the StarTribune
newspaper)

Volunteer
Annie Olson (center) chats with
several Marines has their unit
passes through the Minneapolis-St.
Paul Airport recently.
Though volunteers
at the Armed Forces Service Center bring
much-needed comfort to troops, resources
are taxed because of increased troop
movements.
By MARK BRUNSWICK, Star Tribune
Last update: October 17, 2009 - 11:07 AM
The volunteers of the
Armed Forces Service Center call themselves Minnesota's
best-kept secret.
Born during the Vietnam era when returning soldiers were
sometimes scorned by a public soured by war, the group that
welcomes traveling troops coming through the Minneapolis-St.
Paul airport now struggles with a post- 9/11 problem -- a
concern over security that means many people don't know of
its existence.
The center's volunteers rely on donations from local
businesses, nonprofits, and veterans' organizations for
toiletries, muffins, coffee and other amenities to give
troops in transit.
The group has greeted 171 military flights over the past
three years. Last month, 3,000 troops passed through,
drinking 35 pounds worth of Caribou Coffee and grabbing cell
phones lent courtesy of Sprint. The Girl Scouts have been
especially generous: a storage room has a well-stocked
supply of Do-Si-Dos.
With the country at war on two fronts, the number of troops
filtering through the airport has exploded, and the
volunteers have found themselves knocking on more doors for
donations.
The demand comes as the public's patience with the wars is
being tested amid economic hardship. It also comes as the
Twin Cities airport continues to operate at a high level of
concern over security. The Twin Cities is the venue, after
all, where convicted terrorist Zacarias Moussaoui was first
arrested.
Debra Cain, the center's director, often gets advance word
of incoming flights. But troop movements, and where they are
coming from and going to, are treated as an issue of
operational security. A soldier recently discovered he was
going to be traveling through the airport on a layover and
sent out e-mails about the schedule. In response, the
military re-routed the flight.
"We try to work closely with the airlines and with the
military," she said. "There's a lot of concern about keeping
troop movement secure. At the same time, we're seeing more
and more people coming through. We need funds, funds,
funds."
Pat Hogan, a spokesman for the Metropolitan Airports
Commission, which runs the airport, said Transportation
Safety Administration regulations apply to airports across
the country and that MSP has no history of being more
restrictive. The airports commission donates space to the
center but is not otherwise affiliated with it.
"The troops are required to be contained in a certain area;
they're carrying guns and there is no screening process in
terms of when they get off the plane and what they may
have," Hogan said. "There are some security concerns that
have to be taken into account."
Even with their new blue denim shirts with the letters AFSC
embroidered on them (donated in 2008 by Kraus Anderson
Construction), local volunteers might be forgiven if they
have felt a little left out. Similar groups elsewhere seem
to enjoy a much easier time and have flown far less under
the radar.
The Maine Troop Greeters, for instance, have welcomed
841,000 troops since 2003 at the
Bangor International Airport and have been the subjects of a
multitude of attention, including face time with Vice
President Joe Biden in the White House and players in a
documentary film, "The Way We Get By," being screened this
month.
The local center, which is not affiliated with the USO, was
founded in 1970 by a woman whose son died in
Vietnam. It has never closed.
Besides greeting flights at the gate with a mobile canteen
of treats, the Armed Forces Service Center operates a center
on the mezzanine of the Lindbergh Terminal. It has a large
lounge with satellite TV, free Wi-Fi, complimentary
sandwiches, pastries, cereals and soups and bunks for men
and women. In the days after 9/11, 16 Marines were stranded
there for five days while commercial flights were grounded.
Teacher Jeanne Morford volunteered for the first shift and
has returned for a four-hour stint every Monday. Like many
of the volunteers, Morford became involved in the center
after seeing how troops returning from
Vietnam were being treated.
"We should never treat people who have served their country
like that again," said Morford, the one-time president of
the group. Another volunteer, Annie Olson, began writing
letters to soldiers in
Vietnam in 1968 and has volunteered at the center since
2004. "I feel it's the best way I can give back to people
who have sacrificed so much," she said.
Don Wille, whose stepson Chris is in the Army, learned about
the center when his wife, Renee, became involved in a
military family support group. He ended up delivering
several truckloads of snacks and personal hygiene items
donated to his business after learning of the critical need
for supplies.
"It's either the first place when they get to American soil
or the last place before they leave," he said. "They need to
have a good reception one way or the other because they are
going to be gone for a long time or they've been gone for a
long time."
While soldiers are being given more support than during the
Vietnam days, a recent flight in by a group of Marines
provided a glimpse of some of the new problems in dealing
with weary troops facing extended deployments.
Two and a half hours late after their flight had mechanical
difficulties, the Marines filtered through, some staring
with fatigue, others happy to have a conversation with the
volunteers. An airport police officer and a TSA guard
monitored movements the whole time.
As the Marines marched on to their next flight back to their
base in
Arizona, volunteers from the center made a point of going
through the restrooms to make sure no one was planning to go
AWOL. It has happened before.
But not on this date. All troops were accounted for and
within 45 minutes after the plane landed, the volunteers
were breaking down their mobile canteen like a NASCAR crew
at a pit stop. Their effort did not go unnoticed.
"After six or seven months of a long deployment you kind of
forget that there are people here supporting you," said
Staff Sgt. Nicholas Cook, whose unit, Marine Wing Support
Squadron 371, was returning to its home base in Yuma, Ariz.
"When you jump off the plane and see something like this, I
am taken aback. It can't help but put a smile on your face
for the rest of the trip back home."
It was the end of Cook's third deployment. "Back and forth,
this is my sixth time seeing something like this," he said,
"and I never get used to it."
