EVERETT — Hull No. 72 is finally home.
During the war, squadrons of fighter planes from the world’s largest warship dropped more than 1.5 million pounds of bombs on Iraq. Last night, only a single jet sat on its deck.
A month ago the USS Abraham Lincoln teemed with more than 5,500 Navy men and women. Last night, only about 500 sailors remained on duty.
Gone 290 days, on day 291 the Lincoln pulled into Naval Station Everett Tuesday to the delight of more than 20,000 family and friends who gathered to greet 2,661 battle-tested sailors.
The homecoming, which drew national attention, marked the return of the first carrier back from the war. It also ended the longest deployment for a carrier since the Vietnam War.
A week ago President George Bush used the Lincoln’s deck to announce that the war in Iraq was over, and that the United States and its allies were victorious in toppling Saddam Hussein’s dictatorship.
The world’s media used reporters embedded on the warship to show the war live, giving the world an unparalleled view of modern fighting. Gov. Gary Locke and other officials flew aboard the Lincoln shortly before it swung past Mukilteo for the home stretch.
"From the bottom of my heart: thank you," Locke said. "Thank you for making us proud. … You’ve been away from loved ones far too long."
Not a single sailor was lost on the nearly 10-month deployment. Every one of the flight crews made it home.
The Lincoln was originally deployed to help patrol Afghanistan’s skies and left the Persian Gulf for a January homecoming. But the ship was sent back to fight in the war against Iraq.
Running about a half-hour ahead of schedule, the Lincoln was greeted by 8,000 family at Naval Base Everett. As many as 12,000 onlookers crowded viewpoints to watch the carrier park.
Sailors decked out in their dress whites, manning the rails, could be seen from shore, looking like a white picket fence. Around 10:20 a.m. sailors were released from duty on the flight deck, which meant they no longer had to man the rails.
The announcement came on the carrier’s intercom: "Mission accomplished. Job well done."
The crowd waiting to get onto the Lincoln’s landing pier amassed at the base’s north gate well before anyone was allowed inside.
Although the base opened at 6 a.m., the Navy didn’t allow families onto the pier for nearly three more hours.
Sailor Kyle Strong’s family got there early — really early. The Strongs even beat the sun to the naval station, arriving at 5:15 a.m. after getting up at 3:45 a.m. They wanted to beat the rush, and they did, by quite a bit, as it turned out.
"We got up a little earlier than we needed to," said Strong’s great uncle, Jim Faith of Yakima.
Strong’s parents, Tammie and Randy, and his sister Ashley, came all the way from Homer, Neb., population 527. Unfortunately, Kyle Strong was on duty as a machinist in the ship’s nuclear reactor, which meant he would be one of the last to leave the ship.
"I couldn’t sleep anyway," Tammie Strong said. "It didn’t matter."
A whirlwind of emotions rushed through Valarie Hammond’s 20-year-old body as she traded breathless anxiety for tears of joy while awaiting her husband’s arrival.
"My stomach’s been upset for days," she said.
Just a few weeks short of their third anniversary, she simply didn’t know how her husband, 21-year-old Ralph Hammond — her sweetheart since eighth grade — would adjust.
"This morning I climbed back into bed and threw the covers over my head," she said. "I was scared. Wouldn’t you be scared if you hadn’t seen somebody for 10 months?"
In the time he’s been gone, she’s moved to a new place in Everett while raising their 6-month-old daughter, Hailey Hammond. The couple has stayed in touch through daily e-mails, but so much has changed.
"When he left, (his wife) was just a shy, scared girl," said Angie Matthews, Valarie’s sister. "She’s had to do a lot of growing up since then."
"This is the first time we’ve been apart for so long," Valarie Hammond said. "I’m sure he’ll adjust just fine, but there’s always that possibility."
A fleet of baby strollers rolled out to the pier hours before the Lincoln came into sight.
Babies fidgeted and drooled while nervous mothers straightened frilly dresses and patted down unruly curls, wanting the first meetings between babies and their fathers to be perfect.
"I can’t wait to give her to him," Keri Grosso said of her daughter Maykayla.
Airman Bryan Grosso was deployed two weeks before his first child was born. "He’s seen lots of pictures and a video, but it isn’t the same as holding her in your arms."
Altogether, about 150 men missed the births of their children while aboard the Lincoln.
Those sailors were some of the first off the ship and were all smiles at the first glimpse of their new children.
"I’m just ecstatic. I can’t believe I’m holding him," said Airman Apprentice Donald Thorne, gingerly carrying his first child and namesake.
At 8 a.m. Pam Sanders lingered on the Navy wharf near where barking sea lions lounged. She was worried about her husband, 1st Class Petty Officer Tom Sanders.
Would he recognize her?
They’d been married nine months, but had spent only three weeks of that together.
"We didn’t get a honeymoon," said Sanders, who stood next to her mother-in-law, Barbara Sanders.
Monday, he had told her on the phone that the first thing he wanted to do was walk barefoot on the carpet at home, a common desire among sailors.
"They can’t go without shoes on the ship, even in the shower," said Pam Sanders.
But she was thinking: would he spot her in the crowd? She’d lost 35 pounds since he last saw her: "I can’t wait for him to see me."
At 8:30 a.m. the Lincoln appeared on the horizon, a tiny gray spire riding the calm.
Caryl Farley, 47, of Oak Harbor had no trouble spotting it.
"I’ll never forget that night it got turned around," she said of the day the carrier was sent back to the Persian Gulf. "January 1st — I was broken-hearted."
A few families nearby began releasing the first of many red, white and blue balloons.
Then, seeing the ship — from miles away — she began to smile.
"It looks so real," she said.
Aboard the carrier, Petty Officer 3rd Class Christina Faulkner of Atwater, Calif., was one of the almost 500 sailors manning the rails.
A mess specialist who has been in the Navy almost four years, she cooks meals for the Lincoln’s crew. She was surprised to see the huge crowd on Pier 1 at the Port of Everett, waving flags. Their whistles and shouts could be heard on the Lincoln’s flight deck.
"It’s just great, the support that they gave us and the support they’re giving us when we’re coming back home," she said.
At 8:45 a.m. the scramble for the best positions on the pier began. Navy staff opened the wharf gate and let the surging mass through.
As they spread out on the pier, families faced a tough decision — the west side of the pier offered the best views of the Lincoln’s approach, but the ship was going to dock on the pier’s east side.
Folks who chose front row positions on the docking side could not see the Lincoln cruising into Possession Sound, but that didn’t matter to one group of women huddled near where they thought the sailors would eventually disembark.
"We want to be first," said Monica Martinez, who had traveled from her hometown of Houston to welcome her fiance, Steven Humphrey.
Cindy Reynolds of Marysville and her family bounced around anxiously on the west side of the pier, eagerly watching the Lincoln approach.
She was waiting to see her husband, Robert Reynolds, and wasn’t worried about finding a good spot. Cindy Reynolds was one of about a dozen "first kissers" who won smooching rights in a fund-raising raffle.
"They’ll bring my husband to me," Cindy Reynolds smiled.
Dan and Deby Stockwell of Woodinville wedged into position at the southern tip of the pier to get the best view of the Lincoln turning around before it docked.
"We’re just here because we’re nosey people and we move through crowds well and we’re tall," Deby Stockwell joked.
Dan Stockwell searched in vain for their son, Casey, who was among the sailors standing on the Lincoln’s deck.
"They all look alike," he said. "He said he was going to try to line up on the starboard side."
Anxious families waved their homemade signs and banners as they looked for their sailors.
The idea was to try to stand out in the crowd, and it seemed to work for some.
Caryl Farley of Oak Harbor told her husband to look for a flying purple monkey. "I must have found the only monkey balloon in Oak Harbor," she said.
"It’s my Chinese astrological sign," she said.
In the case of Diana and Don Wood, they held up a tree.
Diana Wood, of Los Osos, Calif., waved a cardboard sign that was trimmed into the shape of a tree. That way her son, John Wood, would be able to see his mother and his two sisters, Christina and Tina.
"We’ve done this before," Diana Wood said. "When he comes home, we get out the tree."
Ryan Schau’s sign welcoming his brother Joey Schau home was emblazoned on his T-shirt. "Welcome home Joey — long time, no sea."
Pam Martin put her son’s old high school football jersey on a sign and waved it in the air.
"He’ll recognize it," Martin said.
Fittingly, sailor Josh Martin’s football number matched the Lincoln’s hull number: "72."
For others, spotting loved ones among thousands of sailors decked out in dress whites was easy.
"My daughter’s fiance is the best looking kid on the boat," a woman in the crowd said.
"You mean the one in the white hat?" Mike Hurley of the San Juan Islands quipped in reply.
By 9 a.m. the ship that had seemed so tiny on the horizon now looked as a big as a floating football stadium. The crew lined up along the carrier’s rails.
Jennifer Keehn, 19, waiting for her boyfriend, Matthew Deslatte, had been counting the hours until his arrival.
"I got to 500 hours and I stopped," she said.
Like other sailors, Deslatte had told his family that the first thing he wanted to do was "lay on carpet and then go home to New Orleans" and eat crawfish, said his mother, Beth Deslatte.
"There’s my dad," yelled Dan Ryan, 17, of Los Angeles. He had not seen his dad in a year and a half.
Where others saw another sailor in white on deck, Dan saw his father.
"I recognize him by the way he stands," he said.
About 10 a.m., families peered intently at the hulking ship now towering above them. They just wanted a glimpse of their sailors and the wait was agonizing as tugboats maneuvered the ship into place.
Just a stretch of concrete and a channel of cold seawater stood between thousands of people and the long-awaited homecoming with sailors aboard the Lincoln.
As patience ran thin, cell phones came out.
"I’m over here. I’m holding up a sign with your name on it, next to a girl with a blue sweatshirt," Melissa Mejias shouted into the cell phone cradled under her chin.
Finally, after about 10 minutes of searching, Manny Mejias spotted his wife, who stood behind their 11-month-old daughter, Alyza.
A glimpse and a wave would have to do for a little longer.
"I just want him to get off the ship already. It’s taking too long," Melissa Mejias said. "I just can’t wait to have him home."
Sherry Montgomery of Arlington, waiting for husband Edgar Montgomery III, quietly watched the Lincoln arrive with her newborn daughter.
"I’m just very anxious," she said. "I just know I’m going to explode."
Airman Michael Berumen was standing in the hatch of his workstation on the Lincoln flight deck. He was talking on a cell phone with his mother, Rosie. Mom was standing on nearby Pier 1 with Berumen’s aunt, older brother, girlfriend and two other friends from his hometown in Huntington Beach, Calif.
"It’s really awesome," he said of the reception. "I’ve never seen anything like it. I really honestly didn’t think it was going to be this big."
On the Lincoln deck, Chief Robert Calloway, a career counselor, used a cell phone to find his wife, Marva Calloway in the pier crowd.
After he found her, he directed her closer to where he was standing on the ship so he could see her better. She’s in the military too, an Army captain.
Their conversation was cut short when the crowd starting chanting: "USA, USA, USA."
"I’m just glad to be home," he said. "With both of us being in the military, it’s really hard. And she almost got the call to the Gulf."
At 10:44 a.m. the sailors started leaving the Lincoln.
Sailor Juan Angel was supposed to be the very first new father off the ship. At the pier his wife Candice scanned the crowd on tiptoes, desperate for a glimpse of her husband.
She had been primping in the last moments before her man was allowed to leave the ship. She put her lipstick on, and then put on some more until it glistened, combed her hair another time and smoothed out her black dress with nervous fingers.
A cheer went up from the throng on the Lincoln’s pier, signaling that the first sailors were finally getting off the ship.
Candice of Seattle couldn’t wait any more. With friends holding 9-month-old Angelica Leanne, Candice started running toward her man.
Through the crowd, Juan Angel appeared, wearing his dress whites, carrying his duffel bag, looking a little stunned by it all.
He stopped, spotting Candice sprinting toward him from about 100 feet away. She leapt into his arms, nearly knocking her sailor over. Then came the kiss.
"I love you," she said.
With friends clearing a path, Juan Angel finally got to hold his baby girl, dressed up in a lilac jumper. One white patent leather shoe was missing.
As the reunited family made its way home from the pier, Angelica was carried by her beaming daddy.
When he finally caught his breath, Juan Angel said, "(My baby) is beautiful." And Candice "is looking really good too."
Yeoman 2nd Class Cynthia Gacita missed little "growing up" things that her 4-year-old son Tahj Cattage experienced while she was stationed aboard the Lincoln. She was among the few mothers on the ship.
For Gacita, 25, the mission was especially difficult.
As a single mother, the Everett sailor had to rely on her parents to care for her son.
"If it wasn’t for them, I don’t know what I would have done," she said.
After stopping by Red Robin for "real food" — a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich — Gacita planned to catch up with her son at his favorite places.
"We’re going to Chuck E. Cheese and the park," she said. "We’re also going to have a huge birthday party for him Saturday.
"I just want to spend as much time as I can with him. He’s grown too much without me," she said.
Shortly after finally getting off their home of more than nine months, airmen Jenny Miller, 20, and Coleen Kee, 18, knew what they wanted to do right away.
"Get some clothes," they said in unison, and headed to Seattle to shop.
Sailor Earl Houston of Arlington was happy to be home, but his trip isn’t over.
Houston, 42, was scheduled to jump on a flight first thing this morning to Simmesport, La., to see his newborn grandson, Jaylon Earl Houston.
But before visiting his native state, Houston’s wife, Frankie, prepared a feast to give him a little taste of home. "We got the whole works," she said. "Jambalaya, gumbo, collard greens, black-eyed peas, cornbread, peach cobbler and sweet potato pie."
"I said I’d be OK with stopping at McDonald’s," Earl quipped. "But I want that gumbo."
More than half of the Lincoln’s sailors are unmarried and many did not have anybody waiting for them in Everett.
A group of spouses in Smokey Point made sure the singles were not forgotten.
They put together gift bags that included everything from shampoo and breath mints to silly stuff like a CD of love songs from the television show "American Idol."
Nineteen-year-old Sarah Willadsen of Smokey Point presented a simpler gift — lots of hugs.
Not all of the roughly 1,600 single sailors on board made it to her post, but Willadsen joked that she would stick around for as long as it took.
Willadsen said her father, a career Navy man, told her that his single sailor friends often got depressed at homecomings they were left alone while others celebrated.
"They’re not all male, but I’ll give out 1,600 hugs if I have to," she said. "I am prepared."
On Tuesday afternoon, Ensign Pete Coore still couldn’t quite believe he was holding his two daughters at The Flying Pig restaurant, instead of helping oversee aviation maintenance aboard the Lincoln.
"I’m still a little bit numb," said Coore, as his 2-year-old daughter Raenan played with the wings on his pressed white officers’ shirt. "It’s been a long time out there, and after nine-months-plus, it’s hard to wear that off. You get used to a routine, a certain mindset."
His other daughter, Sabria, 6, handed him a picture she had colored on white paper.
"What do you think this is?" she asked.
Coore, 39, glanced at the seemingly amorphous drawing and guessed: "That’s a good piece of abstract art."
"If you turn it this way," Sabria said, "it kind of looks like an alien smiling."
Coore grinned and then looked around the long table at his wife Rebecca and her family, who had driven from Spokane to welcome him home. It was moments like these, he said, that would help him return to normal.
"This brings me back to my base — chasing the kids around, just normal stuff like that," he said. "It will probably take a few weeks of being around my family to decompress — although I should say being around my immediate family, because those on board are family, too, just a different kind of family."
Raenan returned to her father’s arms.
"It feels so good just to be able to hold her," Coore said.
On the other side of the restaurant sat Cmdr. Paul Erickson, the carrier’s aircraft handling officer, was ordering a Reuben sandwich.
"We have Reubens on the Lincoln, but they’re Navy Reubens," said Erickson, after taking a sip from a Hogwild Hefeweizen, the first thing he ordered on shore after more than nine months at sea.
At first, Erickson, 44, was going to return directly to his home in Oak Harbor with his wife and daughter, but he was hungry and had a taste for a beer.
Perhaps it was best to get that beer right away, because his wife Feddie, 44, had e-mailed him when he was still aboard the carrier that the satellite-television receiver was broken.
"I told him when you come home, you have to fix that first thing," she said with a laugh.
"Whatever she wants, I’ll do it," Erickson said.
"Finally, he’s home," Feddie said. "I’m not going to let him go again."
This time, Feddie might get her wish. After spending about half of the last 18 1/2years at sea, Cmdr. Erickson is about to become a landlubber. Next month he’ll start as an executive officer of the Naval Aviation Training Unit at Whidbey Island Naval Air Station.
The carrier’s return made a lifelong impression on one youngster in particular.
At 3:24 p.m. a boy was born to Wally and Elizabeth Badley of Arlington. His arrival occurred at the Cascade Midwives and Birth Center, a few blocks up the hill from the Lincoln. There was a sudden change of plans when it came time to giving him a name.
"It was total spur of the moment," said his grandmother, Marge Edwards of Mill Creek. "The name was going to be Steven."
Everybody whooped their approval when his parents decided on Lincoln George Badley.
Welcome home, Lincoln.
Herald reporters Victor Balta, Jim Haley, Diana Hefley, Brian Kelly, Cathy Logg, Scott Morris, Scott North, David Olson, Janice Podsada, Sharon Salyer, Katherine Schiffner and Eric Stevick contributed to this story.
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