Our lives as a family changed forever on Jan. 1, 1968, when my brother Terrence Hanley disappeared from the skies over North Vietnam.
Terry was the fifth of 10 children born to Florence and Edward Hanley of Gardiner. He graduated from Gardiner High School and from St. Anselm College with highest honors. He then enlisted in the U.S. Navy, attended flight school and was assigned to fly off an aircraft carrier.
Newly married and expecting his first child, Terry was stationed in the Philippines at Cubi Point. For his last mission, he was assigned with two others to fly as the co-pilot aboard an A3 Skywarrior reconnaissance aircraft over North Vietnam.
The plan was to fly from the naval station in the Philippines to their target area and then recover at Da Nang Air Base, South Vietnam, for refueling and return trip. The mission was for surveillance of the enemy lines of communication to determine truck traffic. They were flying at low altitude to avoid detection, but encountered anti-aircraft and missile fire. The aircraft flew for about 20 minutes longer and turned southeast toward the South China Sea.
No further contact was made with the aircraft. The Navy conducted an intensive search, but it ended when no trace of the plane or its occupants was found.
For years, we had many sleepless nights trying to piece together what had happened to him. My father was a quiet, soft-spoken man, and he kept most of his thoughts and feelings to himself, although I know he was in horrific pain. He found what solace he could at church in his quiet, dignified way, or by retreating to the library, where he could escape in books. Only on rare occasions did he want to talk about Terry’s disappearance.
It changed my mother forever. She lost part of herself. For many years, she couldn’t sleep and never wanted any of us to leave when we visited. She began making Sunday dinners and insisted we all attend every week. There was always a sadness in her eyes, and I often felt she was just trying to keep herself together. In many ways, her 10 children were her identity, and Terry was always a very attentive, dutiful, brilliant and extremely loving son.
For a few years, our family held out some hope for his survival, but it eventually became obvious our hope was in vain. Just when the government would stop sending information for a few months, another information packet would arrive, and all the feelings of despair, and more questions, would bubble to the surface again.
For many months and years, we all hoped for some defining news, anything. We remained hopeful, but also realistic.
Terry never met his only child, a son, Terry Jr., who was born a few months after his disappearance. My parents never had proper closure regarding their beloved son before they died.
Without a body, there is always lingering doubt, even in the face of reality. Terry was the best of us. I had so hoped for the day the flag-draped coffin holding my brother would come home. But that was not to be.
Certain events trigger emotions about Terry. Family weddings, births, funerals and reunions come and go. My sisters, brothers and many dear cousins often talk about Terry and his love of family and his many accomplishments in his short life.
Terry Jr. lives in Oregon and has a wonderful family. My sister Cheryl named one of her sons Terry in tribute, and all nine siblings — Edward from Arizona, Tony from Connecticut, Barbara from North Carolina, and Jay, Cheryl, Alicia, John, Jeff and I, all living in Maine — attended his recent wedding in Winterport.
The Terry we knew was our hero, our guiding star, and whatever we have accomplished in our lives is always dedicated to his memory. He left a small town to fight the good fight, and he will not be forgotten. Lt. Terrence Higgins Hanley was a true American hero.
Stephen Hanley of Gardiner served eight years in the Maine Legislature, and dedicated every day of his service to his brother Terry.
Send questions/comments to the editors.
Comments are no longer available on this story