CHRIS CODUTO/Arizona Daily Wildcat Professor Giuliana Donnelly teaches her Spanish 330 class last week. On Jan. 17, 2002, Donnelly's husband of 11 years, Lance, was killed when his plane collided with another plane on a training mission over the Tucson desert.

As Professor Giuliana Donnelly engages in a discussion with the students in her Spanish 330 class, the sound of Air Force jets from nearby Davis Monthan Air Force Base temporarily halts the lesson plan.

"That's the sound of freedom," Donnelly said, as she remembered what her husband would always say when he heard jets flying overhead. The Air Force jets bring back both fond and tragic memories.

The final moments of her husband's life were spent in one of those Air Force jets.

In 1984, Giuliana Groeber, a student at San Jose State University, met Lance Donnelly. She often saw him walking around campus looking "very attractive" in his Air Force ROTC uniform. It wasn't until after their initial conversation that she decided Lance was just a bit too cocky for her.

While volunteering at a triathlon the next year, however, Giuliana happened to run into Lance. They set up an innocent date, during which Lance introduced Giuliana to the love of his life: flying. Soon after, Giuliana took over that title.

In November 1990, Giuliana became Mrs. Lance Donnelly. But when she married him, she also married the military.

"It was like moving to another planet," said Giuliana, who made her first step into the world of a military wife by selling the travel agency she owned to her mother.

At that time, Lance was an Air Force officer, flying A-10 Thunderbolts, also known as tank-killers. Though Giuliana made numerous attempts to find a job, her husband's military position deterred potential employers from hiring her.

"You don't provide the stability that we're looking for," she said they often told her, referring to the fact that members of the military never stay in one location for long.

After failed attempts to find a job and relocating to Texas in 1991, Giuliana enrolled in graduate school at Texas Tech University.

As part of her program, she had to teach a class at the university. On her first day of teaching, she looked up and saw Lance, sitting in the back of the class to show his support.

Giuliana earned her master's degree, began work on her doctorate, and then gave birth to their first child, Cameron.

But, as with many military wives, a time came in the Donnelly's life when Giuliana had to raise their son alone.

In 1994, Lance was stationed in Osan, South Korea, on a one-year tour, leaving his wife and infant son in the U.S. while he fulfilled his military commitment.

It was a particularly difficult time, Giuliana recalled, because she was forced to raise their active toddler alone, as she continued her education.

All communication during the year, except for two two-week visits, was made through scheduled phone calls, e-mails and occasional recorded messages sent on VHS tape.

When the tour ended, the military stationed Lance in Tucson, where he and his family remained for seven years before relocating to Italy for four years.

Giuliana said her life developed some consistency in Tucson. Lance flew A-10s on a regular basis and she took a job at Pima Community College. In October 1997, Olivia, their second child, was born.

But The Donnelly's life in Tucson was interrupted soon after Olivia's birth. For four years, Lance worked a desk job in Italy, directly under NATO command. Although Giuliana enjoyed the culture and the life she made for herself in Italy, she knew that as a military wife, she could not become too attached.

Lance missed flying. But his wife said he always put on a good face saying, "I do this so others can fly." Inside, however, he wished he was behind the controls of the Thunderbolts.

In July 2001, Lance got his wish, receiving orders to return to Tucson, where he would spend the final months of his life.

On Jan. 17, 2002, a fear nearly every military wife possesses became a reality for Giuliana. She remembers the day with pain-staking detail.

"I remember giving him a kiss goodbye and telling him that I love him. It was like any other day. Lance's squadron was behind in training, so I knew he'd be flying that day."

But it wasn't any other day.

The doorbell rang and when Giuliana opened the door, she was surprised to see her good friends, the Phillips. Neal Phillips was wearing his Dress Blue uniform.

"I remember asking, ÎWhat are you guys doing on this side of town?' Before I even finished, I already knew the answer."

Tracy Phillips took the kids to a neighbor's house while Neal tried to explain as much as he knew.

Lance's jet had collided with another A-10. Only one parachute emerged from the wreck, but it wasn't Lance's.

"It was then that I remember thinking, no matter what the result, I knew it wasn't going to be good," she said. "But I still had hope that Lance would be alive."

She spent the hours following the crash glued to the TV. Giuliana waited anxiously for a news reporter to tell her whether her husband was alive. Finally an evening newscast announced that one of the pilots had been confirmed dead.

Giuliana knew it was Lance.

"I was mad. ÎHow do you know that? I don't even know that yet,'" she said.

Department of Defense officials arrived at the Donnelly's home soon after the broadcast to confirm Lance's death. But Giuliana was already thinking about the difficult task she faced: telling her children that their daddy wouldn't be coming home.

"I just told them the truth," Donnelly said. "Olivia didn't really understand, and Cameron was just in shock. That night, we all slept in Cameron's room. I was grateful and amazed that they were able to go to sleep that night."

Sleep, however, did not fill the enormous void created by the death of their father and husband.

Several months of meaningless days and unbearable nights continued long after Lance was laid to rest. Even with the support of her family, friends and colleagues at the UA, it took Donnelly several months to return to normalcy.

There was never any anger. She knew all too well what came with being married to a member of the military. There was always the possibility that one day Lance wouldn't come home.

"The thought of being angry at somebody seemed futile. Me being angry is not going to bring Lance back. We talk about him a lot and keep him alive in many ways, but we don't have time to be angry. We're too busy living."

So while most student sit in classes that are continually interrupted by the sound of jets flying overhead, that sound, at least to some, is the sound of freedom ÷ and maybe more.