Ted Restel: A life measured in miles, missions, and memories

Cornfields surrounded Sycamore, Ill., where Holly (Johnson) Restel grew up. In the seventh grade, Ted Restel, who played French horn, moved from Cleveland, Ohio to Sycamore, where he met Holly, who played piano and clarinet.

They were married in 1963, a year before Ted graduated from college with a major in geography. He worked for Rand McNally as a cartographer, then at Encyclopedia Britannica.

By using a $5 coupon, Ted went on a 30-minute ride in a private plane. “That’s what I want to do,” he told Holly after landing. Ted took lessons and got a private pilot’s license with an instrument rating. “We visited relatives in Cleveland and Erie, Pa. in a Cessna 172,” Holly said.

In 1968, more than 500,000 Americans were on active duty in Vietnam, with draft quotas surging to meet the demand for fresh troops. At the same time, draft boards began calling up college graduates in unprecedented numbers.

Even though Ted had applied to the Air Force, their quota was highly competitive. The Army, on the other hand, had an insatiable appetite. An all-weather pilot’s license meant nothing to the draft board. By the time the Air Force called, Ted had already taken the physical for the Army.

After officer training, Ted went to flight school at Williams Air Force Base in Mesa, Ariz., where Holly joined him, giving birth to their son, Greg, in 1969.

Ted flew the C-141 Starlifter, a multi-engine, long-range transport. He was assigned to the Military Airlift Command (MAC) at Travis Air Force Base in California, where their second son, Todd, was born in 1972.

The MAC served as the logistical connection between the U.S. and Vietnam, with C-141s departing around the clock. Ted and Holly’s life was structured around a 14-day cycle of long-distance flying and three days off.

Ted flew to Hawaii for refueling, then continued to Guam, which was the operational limit. In Guam, a new crew would take over, while Ted’s crew slept in a windowless transit barracks. The next day, he flew an inbound C-141 on to Clark Air Base in the Philippines. After another layover, the next stop was Vietnam.

To avoid rocket attacks which could track the aircraft’s radar, the approach to Vietnam required a high-altitude, steep descent, even at night. Pilots relied entirely on radio instructions in poor visibility.

After landing, the engines were kept running for immediate departure in case of an attack while unloading. On Medevac (medical evacuation) missions, the cargo area was transformed into a flying hospital ward.

The C-141 could carry up to 80 patients on litters (canvas bunks stacked four high) and another two dozen in seats. Flight nurses monitored patients en route to military hospitals in Japan or the Philippines.

On repatriation missions, human remains were transported back to the U.S. in reusable military caskets. Afterward, the empty caskets were sterilized and flown back to Vietnam.

“It was very tough,” Holly said. “When Ted came home, I wanted to go out. I had been caring for toddlers by myself. But he wanted to eat at home. He never told me what he did. We were both stressed out.”

On Aug. 8, 1971, Ted flew the returning Apollo 15 astronauts from Hawaii to Houston on a C-141. He was selected due to his extensive combat experience, impeccable record, and calm demeanor.

In 1974, Ted began flying for Piedmont Airlines, based in Winston-Salem. Piedmont was the Appalachian region airline which flew into small towns over mountainous terrain. “Ted always said he loved flying so much, it didn’t feel like work,” Holly said.

Instead of flying six-to-eight-hour missions across the Pacific, Ted flew six to eight short flights a day, often ending up away from home at night. Around 1989, Piedmont merged with US Air (later US Airways), which moved the hub to Charlotte.

On 9/11, Ted was flying over the North Atlantic from Germany to Philadelphia. “He told the copilot to get out the maps and find a place to land,” Holly said. “By the time they landed in Halifax, Nova Scotia, there were dozens of aircraft already on the ground.”

Around 8,000 passengers were stranded inside their planes, some for up to 24 hours. “There was no place to go,” Holly said. “Ted said they came on board with food, drinks, and medicine and offered to take him to a hotel. But he told them he would be the last to leave the aircraft.”

“After the passengers were taken to shelters in school buses, Ted called and asked about our credit limit. He didn’t have a way to bill US Airways, so he paid the expenses for the entire 18-person crew himself, which were later reimbursed,” Holly said. “He always looked out for everyone.”

Their son, Greg, who was also flying for US Airways on 9/11, landed safely in Denver. “I had no idea where either one of them were,” Holly said. “I finally found out that US Airways had accounted for all their flights,” she said, still greatly relieved. “It was several days before they both got home.”

In 2005, Ted and Holly moved to Lake James, where they volunteered in the kitchen at Burke United Christian Ministries (BUCM). Ted was also a Wednesday Warrior at Habitat for Humanity for many years, where he helped build houses on Wednesdays.

Ted Restel died in 2025 from Parkinson’s disease, a presumptive condition caused by the jungle warfare defoliant Agent Orange, which was transported to Vietnam in C-141s.

Shortly before his death, a friend said the airline called and wanted him to fly the next day. “Tell them I’m busy,” he said. The following day, Ted flew away.