Along the way, Yeager — portrayed in Tom Wolfe's 1979 best seller, "The Right Stuff" — underwent numerous interviews, shook dozens of hands and posed for photos galore.

Officially, Yeager is in Honolulu to give the keynote address for the fourth annual Pacific Aviation Museum-Pearl Harbor Benefit at the Officers Club at Hickam Air Force Base tomorrow night.

The museum, which will highlight U.S. aviation from 1913 to the present inside a trio of Ford Island hangars, is scheduled to open on Dec. 7, 2006. It's also something Yeager seemed eager to talk about.

"My comment is they've waited almost 50 years too long."

In a "357th Fighter Group" baseball cap, white polo shirt and green fleece vest, he strolled with his hands in the pockets of his Wrangler jeans. He answered every question with a West Virginia drawl and a genial, though blunt, manner of speaking.

What stands out in his mind among all the amazing things he's done in his life?

"Nothing really," he said after a pause.

What about pushing the envelop as a test pilot?

"I never looked at it that way."

By now the particulars of Yeager's life have reached mythic proportions. Born in the backwoods of West Virginia in 1923, he grew up to become a World War II flying ace, decorated war hero, the first person to fly faster than the speed of sound, and a revered space flight training pioneer.

Yeager's own version of the details was typically straightforward. "Basically, I was raised as a kid to honor my flag and my country, and that's the way I've lived my life," he said. "And the Air Force has taught me everything I need to know to do my job. And what I am I owe to the Air Force."

He said that until he was 18, he'd never laid eyes on an airplane on the ground. Doing the things he did was a matter of the Air Force showing him how to do it and the luck of being in the right place at the right time.

The subject of space was perhaps the thing he spoke most passionately about during his tour of the national cemetery in Punchbowl crater.

Standing before the grave of Ellison Onizuka, who died in the explosion of space shuttle Challenger in 1986, Yeager listened to cemetery director Gene Castagnetti explain the details of the astronaut's mission.

"I am very familiar with who Onizuka was," said Yeager, interrupting Castagnetti.

Moments later Yeager paused to rail against NASA's manned space missions.

"I was on the accident board on the first shuttle accident, and it was ridiculous," he said. "It should never have happened. This last shuttle accident should never have happened.

"They should restrict NASA to unmanned space exploration."

Still, it was obvious that Yeager was enjoying himself and was fascinated by the cemetery's place in history. His own place in history was another matter.

"I don't live in the past," he said. "It's that simple. I've been in dozens of cemeteries, I've fought in four wars and lost a lot of people. But that's war."

Eventually it was apparent that the rigors of glory have their limits — even for a legend. An hour after the tour began, Yeager was ready to call it a day.

"Let's take off," he told his wife, who explained: "We got up at 5 this morning and we had three interviews starting at 7."

As he was leaving, Yeager heard Allan Palmer, executive director and CEO of the Pacific Aviation Museum, ask: "Gen. Yeager, how do you feel about one more radio interview?"

"No!" shot back Yeager, who had clearly had enough.