More than 23 tons of candy were dropped from over 250,000 little parachutes to many thousands of children who needed a bright spot in their lives.

From the Berlin Airlift by Gail Heriot.

There were lots of heroes in this story. But the special hero was an American pilot named Gail Halvorsen. One day after flying a cargo plane into Tempelhof air field, he noticed a group of about 30 ragamuffin children watching from behind a barbed wire fence, so he went over to talk to them. They told him that if at some point the weather gets too bad to continue the airlift, they would be okay. “We can get by on a little food, but if we lose our freedom, we may never get it back.”

Lt. (later Col.) Halvorsen reached into his pocket and came up with two sticks of Wrigley’s gum, which the children excitedly broke into tiny pieces and shared as best they could. Some only got to smell the wrapper.

A light went on in Halvorsen’s head. Next time he and his crew would airdrop candy tied with handkerchiefs as tiny parachutes. The children were delighted. Each time he dropped a load of candy he noticed the crowd of children was larger than before.

The higher-ups in the Air Force noticed too. Soon Halvorsen’s project was made official and greatly expanded to include many pilots and their crews. All told, it is thought that more than 23 tons of candy—much of it contributed by candy manufacturers—were dropped from over 250,000 little parachutes to many thousands of children who needed a bright spot in their lives. Let freedom ring.

By the way, as far as I can tell, Gail Halvorsen is still alive, one of the last of the Greatest Generation. Here’s to you, Colonel! You are a better Gail H. than I.