The USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) was far more than a giant aircraft carrier to the thousands who lived there. She was a seacity, a career, and a society all rolled into one—a community where young seamen learned hard-earned lessons, deepened friendships, and weathered challenges which would remain with them throughout their lives. Ordered in 1960 and standing a staggering 1,000 feet tall, she was a masterpiece. But to those who sailed aboard her decks, memories were never of metal and machinery; they were of life at sea.
Life on the Kitty Hawk was a perpetual symphony of activity, noise, and duty. Well over 4,500 sailors worked in concert, keeping everything running and everyone safe. For others, it was a first taste of true freedom, and the balance of independence and responsibility could be as thrilling as it was overwhelming.
Corey Urband, a past machinist’s mate, recalled being “30 feet below the waterline, halfway around the world from home,” when his friends were still in school. Rich Bratlee, another sailor, hailed from a tiny community in Montana with just 3,000 inhabitants and found himself suddenly having to coexist with 6,000 crew members. Even ordinary facts of the shi,p like its escalators, fell prey to its folklore, most often resulting in cheerful pandemonium when more than anyone’s number tried to ride simultaneously.
Some of the dangers were unknown at that time. As with many of her contemporaries, the Kitty Hawk had asbestos, which at the time was prized for its fire resistance and insulation qualities. It was found in engine rooms, boiler rooms, pipes, insulation, and even some protective equipment.
For its employees working in small, hot spaces—that is, in engineering—daily asbestos fiber exposure posed a silent danger. Decades later, the effects were sometimes revealed, for some of the veterans suffered from asbestosis, lung cancer, or mesothelioma.
Some of these tales are tragic. One of the mariners developed asbestosis from performing routine repairs in the early 1960s. Another, who worked years on valves and gaskets in the engine room, was diagnosed with mesothelioma years after and was finally compensated.
These diseases left a permanent impact not just on the veterans themselves but also on their families. Regular medical follow-ups are now recommended for everyone who served on ships during that time, and care through the Veterans Administration is provided for those with asbestos-related disease.
Service on the Kitty Hawk was emotionally charged, too. The workers endured crises like the 1972 race riots, which required permanent changes, and a fatal fire in 1973 that took six people’s lives but also uncovered spectacular acts of courage. All this gave employees who worked there resilience, loyalty, and a feeling of deep sense of responsibility. Relationships forged under such circumstances have stood the test of a lifetime, with reunions and memorial services continuing to commemorate the spirit of the vessel.
When the Kitty Hawk was finally decommissioned and arrived on her 16,000-mile journey to a Texas shipbreaking yard, it was an exercise in wistful sentiment. Veterans and their loved ones came to reminisce, bid their farewells, and receive mementos fashioned from shavings of the ship.
Chris Green, Managing Director of International Shipbreaking Limited, described the operation would be carried out with respect and dignity to recognize the service and sacrifices made by everyone who had served on board the Kitty Hawk.
The legacy of the USS Kitty Hawk is ultimately one of perseverance—not merely a ship that survived decades of conflict, but of the sailors and airmen whose bodies were fatigued, whose minds were exhausted, and whose spirits were drained on her flight decks. Her history endures through the people she affected and the lessons that she carried with her through those who served.
