By Nechama Shemtov

This past weekend was indeed memorable — and I learned an important lesson.

Living in our nation’s capital definitely has interesting moments, and the past Shabbat and weekend were a perfect example. Friday evening began early at the U.S. Institute of Peace with an event for 250 people. A mix of diplomats, senior members of the administration, community leaders and others — both Jewish and not — joined together for an official reception and Shabbat dinner of unity and shared values celebrating “America 250.” It was a special experience.

The next day marked the hottest Independence Day on record in Washington, D.C. As Shabbat came to a close, many braved the soaring temperatures and headed to the National Mall to experience the July 4 festivities and secure a spot for the fireworks.

The blessing of my home is that for decades we have been able to see the July 4 fireworks from our kitchen window. This was especially appreciated with the brutal temperatures. The fireworks were delayed until midnight, but they were definitely worth the wait — truly spectacular, a once-in-a-lifetime display.

But that is not what touched me most.

Earlier in the afternoon, enjoying a long Shabbat afternoon with family, we suddenly heard a thunderous noise overhead and realized the scheduled air show was about to begin. Rushing to the window, we saw the Blue Angels flying incredibly low as they raced past. It seemed as if they were practically touching our neighbor’s roof. It was breathtaking.

Watching the Blue Angels, B-2 Spirit stealth bombers, Air Force Thunderbirds, Air Force One and others was something I will not easily forget. The precision, concentration and training that must go into such thrilling maneuvers are staggering. One of our family members witnessing it with us suggested that perhaps it was all computer-orchestrated and therefore not necessarily such an accomplishment. So, I did some research.

It turns out the opposite is true.

When the Blue Angels fly in formation, they are not relying on autopilot or computers to keep them in place. The pilots themselves do the maneuvering. The flight leader is responsible for navigation and watching the horizon, while the wingmen focus almost entirely on visual reference points on the lead aircraft. They are not staring at instruments or measuring distance by computer. They lock their eyes on a paint stripe, a rivet or another fixed point, then make constant, tiny adjustments with the throttle and flight controls to remain exactly aligned.

These pilots can fly within 18 inches — just 1.5 feet — of one another at tremendous speeds while making thousands of micro-adjustments. The beauty we see from the ground is not produced by one dramatic move, but by countless small acts of discipline, awareness and trust.

Their training is just as extraordinary. Before the public ever sees a demonstration, the team spends months in winter training, flying again and again until every movement becomes second nature. They do not begin by flying close together at low altitude. They follow a “crawl, walk, run” approach: first practicing higher in the sky and with wider spacing, then gradually moving lower and tighter as their precision improves. Each pilot must complete approximately 120 practice flights before being considered ready to perform safely before the public.

Long before the engines roar, the Blue Angels have already flown the routine in their minds. They undergo “chair flying,” closing their eyes and moving through each maneuver by memory, responding to the lead pilot’s familiar radio voice and cadence as if they were already in the sky. By the time they climb into the cockpit, the formation has been rehearsed again and again, creating the muscle memory needed for such a precise and safe flight.

The more I read, the more I realized that what I had witnessed was not just an unexpected air show. It was a message.
Unity does not mean everyone flies the same plane. It does not mean everyone has the same position, background or role. In a formation, every pilot occupies a different place. One leads, others follow from different angles, and each has distinct responsibilities. Yet the formation succeeds only when every individual is aligned with a shared mission.

Judaism has never demanded sameness. We are a people of questions, debate and strong opinions. In the wilderness, each tribe of Israel had its own banner, its own place and its own identity, but all were arranged around the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, the sacred center. They did not become identical, but they knew what they were oriented toward — Hashem/God, and a higher purpose.

As America enters its 250th year, that lesson feels especially important. We are blessed to live in a nation of extraordinary diversity — different faiths, cultures, opinions and backgrounds. The Shabbat dinner reminded me of that beauty. The fireworks reminded me of America’s grandeur. But the Blue Angels reminded me of the discipline, focus and sense of purpose required to preserve it.

A country does not stay strong by accident. It requires preparation, trust, humility, responsibility and the willingness of each citizen to make small adjustments for the good of something larger than oneself. We do not have to agree on everything. We do not have to look the same or think the same. But we do need a shared horizon and the willingness to work together.

America does not require all of us to fly the same airplane. Judaism reminds us that we do not need to be identical to be one people. We simply need to keep our eyes on the same skyline, our Torah, make room for one another in the formation and move forward together.

Nechama Shemtov is an internationally acclaimed speaker, educator, life/relationship mentor and community leader based in Washington, D.C.

Blue Angels Boeing F/A‑18 Super Hornets flying in formation over Mather Field, California, March 23, 2025.
Photo credit: Adobe Stock/angeldibilio