Marine Capt. Phil Fickes is amazed when he walks by the president’s helicopters each day. Sure, the finely tuned machines are impressive because they carry the president of the United States, but there’s more to it than that. 
“You can’t imagine how clean they are,” says Fickes, 31. 
Spotless, inside and out. 
Even though the aircraft may have just flown through a mass of mosquitoes, the president’s helicopter, Marine One, will look as if it has spent the day being polished in a showroom. 
“Literally, you won’t find a speck on it,” Fickes says. 
The Marines ensure that, hopping out with Windex and a rag at every opportunity. 
“That bird shines,” Fickes says. 
The presidential helicopters are a source of pride for the people who work on them - and especially for those who fly them. Phil Fickes, a 1987 graduate of Glenwood High School, will be one of those pilots. He was selected to become a part of Marine Helicopter Squadron 1, an elite group which, along with serving the White House, also provides

Julio Barrenzuela hears salsa music in silence. He can break into a provocative salsa solo in midafternoon, without accompanying music, under fluorescent lighting. So imagine how he moves to a live salsa band at a nightclub. 
Barrenzuela, 19, has been dancing since he was 10. Even though he’s still not old enough to legally get into most nightclubs, he has danced all over the world, from Miami to San Diego and in Europe. 
He’s not a professional, nor does he want to be. Promoting salsa is his calling, says Barrenzuela, who’s a religious program specialist in the Navy, stationed in San Diego, and who grew up in Springfield. 
He campaigns fanatically, from converting his shipmates on the USS Elliot to creating a grassroots campaign to spread the word of his uncle’s endeavor to introduce salsa to Springfield. He visits television stations and newspapers. He makes salsa tapes for his friends and family,