A flight instructor's annoyance brings a gift

[GoldenRivet]

hear me out.

So one of the more annoying aspects of being a flight instructor and trying to run a legitimate flight school is a little thing called the "introductory flying lesson".

Why? well I'll explain.

Auto dealerships usually allow you test drive the merchandise - they do this in the hope that you will purchase the car.

Flight schools do introductory flying lessons for the same reason... the theory is, if you're "on the fence" this flight might be enough to convince you to jump off the fence and plant your feet firmly on the business end of the airport property.

The problem with the introductory flight is a simple one. Grandparents, parents and model airplane lovers all enjoy using the introductory flight as an inexpensive means of scheduling an affordable fun and exciting thing for either themselves, their 12 year old son, or their extraordinarily elderly relative to do on an otherwise dull saturday afternoon.

the result is that out of the 150 introductory flights we typically conduct in a 12 month period, perhaps 30 of them are persons who are legitimately interested in the idea of acquiring a pilot's certificate.

Of the 30 legit hatchlings... you might get half of them to actually leap down off the fence and enroll in some sort of flying program.

The other 120 people fit into the category of 12 year old kids, grandparents and bored couples looking for a neat "guess what we did over the summer" story.

Last week i had scheduled exactly such a flight for a lady on Wednesday morning for her 87 year old father to take a plane ride. according to her, he used to fly small planes around and hasnt been up in 20 or 30 years. His health and mental state have rapidly deteriorated and they want a 30 minute ride for him.

Unfortunately on Tuesday night, the starter on the airplane decided to crap the bed. maintenance removed the starter, which like a trooper had soldiered on through almost 750 engine starts spanning two agonizingly hot Texas Summers. In one turn of the ignition key, this little piece of equipment had become a neat little paper weight.

much to this woman's apparent, exaggerated, and well verbalized annoyance (he is going to be heart broken, we have been building this up, isnt there anything you can do yadda yadda yadda) - I was forced to reschedule the flight for the following Wednesday (today).

fast forward to Tuesday (yesterday). I received a call from the woman, who may be one of those people who naturally sounds like a total anal orifice (subsim edit version of the street slang of the same meaning). "Just want to make sure your plane doesn't have any more problems again this time like last time" in a very condescending tone. I elected to restrain myself and informed her that the plane was good to go and that i would see her at 9am.

On the completion of our last training flight of the night on Tuesday - which was an excellent flight i might add - the airplane's shock absorbing nose strut leaked out all of the hydraulic fluid and went fully flat - no compression whatsoever. It was too late IMHO to have called her... and i didnt want to cancel this flight again and have my name, and my business name slandered all over the city... so i notified maintenance and made arrangments to borrow a buddy's airplane.

Fast forward to Wednesday (today).

I make it out to the airport, and the old man and i load up. He is extremely hard of hearing with two hearing aides. he is borderline - if not totally senile. His family was present, the mans two kids were there (well into their late 50s) and his wife - who was fully mentally alert and capable was also present. They remained mostly silent while taking photos and helping him into the plane. The son sort of reminded me of the younger adult at the opening of saving private ryan for some reason... didnt say much, just clung to the background taking pictures.

While instructing him on seat belt use he put it on. then i told him how to get the seatbelt off in case of an emergency. He looked confused he glanced at me and said in his barely audible raspy voice "are we back already?"

I worked past the comment and got the man back focused on track the best i could.

We headed out to the runway and were airborne within a few minutes.

Being the brave flight instructor of enormous fortitude and capability that i am (shameless self promotion) i asked the old man if he would like to fly the aircraft.

without so much as a word he calmly rested his right hand on the throttle lever and gripped the yoke with his left. While his mind might not be fully operational, it was clear that his wrinkled, frail hands had loads of muscle memory still in place. he handled the aircraft gently yet expertly in the warm morning air, banking it left and right, handling it more like a big truck and less like a small Piper. he flew it with skill and precision that surprised me considering his apparent instabilities. Half the time i wondered if his mind was aware of the great time his hands were having.

At one point i asked him where he lived thinking that perhaps it would be nice for us to overfly an area with which he may be familiar. He struggled with the question... at one point he said "Gosh... whats the name of that little town?"

he looked over his shoulder to the empty back seats and said "Hey! Whats the name of the town where i live?"

I admit i started to get a look of concern on my face. To draw him back in i named the first area town i could think of. He said to the totally empty back seat "thanks!" and looked at me and told me the name of the town i had just told him.

Continuing to make conversation - as i tend to do to make people more comfortable i asked him "what kind of planes did you used to fly?"

he muttered some incomprehensible phrase that i couldnt even make out.

i asked him to repeat himself

he was silent for a few seconds and looked over at me and his frail little voice again made fragile little sound barely capable of being picked up by the headset mic...










"B-17s"

Instantly... i went hallow. The whole world and everything around me except for this old man and the word he just said faded into a mist of insignificance.

I didnt make any more conversation after that. Mostly because i didnt know what to say to this legend with whom i shared an airplane if but for a fleeting moment.

the thought crossed my mind that this very well may be the final flight this man ever takes.

we headed back to the airport, the approach was solemn. Silent. I tried for a good landing - as i always do on an intro flight... personally i would have rated it a B+.

as we rolled down the runway the man tapped my leg "That was pretty good for a young guy." Even with the hands of senility closing in around him, the old man had a sense of humor... the comment made me chuckle.

We returned and parked and i spryly exited the airplane. I looked back and the man just sat there unresponsive to the questions his family bombarded him with.

He removed the bulky wear over sunglasses and began to wipe his eyes. It could have been sweat... may have been tears, i cant say either way. But it was clear that the man just wanted a few more minutes.

He made his way out of the airplane and stood next to the wing for a moment. he thanked me for the flight, shook my hand and headed toward the car with his wife.

His wife returned and with tears, she hugged me graciously and thanked me for taking her husband up.

then they left

quite sobering.

I was wrong to get that burnout feeling on introductory flights.

its a hell of a lot more than a test drive.

I cant wait to share the sky with the next "tire kicker" - 6th grader or old soldier.

[TLAM Strike]

Great story GR.

I once got to go inside a B-17 when I was little, looking back on that now I realize that I was climbing inside a piece of history.

[razark]

Originally Posted by GoldenRivet

"B-17s"

to him.

I just watched Memphis Belle (the 1944 one) today, so that really struck me. He could have been almost any one of those guys.

[Moeceefus]

Wonderful.

[mako88sb]

Great story there GR. We recently had one of only 2 flyable Lancaster's here in Calgary a couple weeks ago. One guy bought his dad, who used to fly them, a ticket for a flight. Not cheap, about $4000 but the look on his dads face when he landed was priceless.

[Sailor Steve]

Beautiful story, John. You never know when a true treasure will drop in your lap. That one's worthy of Amercan Heritage magazine's 'My Brush With History' page.

[Platapus]

Awesome story. I can fully appreciate your attitude before this flight and after this flight.

Ya done good

I wonder how hard it would be to organize a program where old guy wartime pilots like this can get "one last flight"? I bet many of them would like that.

[frau kaleun]

group hug?

[GoldenRivet]

thanks for the comments guys!

[Sailor Steve]

In my response I mentioned American Heritage. 'My Brush With History' is a section in which readers contribute stories of how they met history face-to-face. Al Capone, John F. Kennedy, Nikita Kruschev, Woodrow Wilson - all famous people of course meet the rest of us, and most of these stories tell of some common soldier, sailor or civilian meeting someone famous.

One of my favorites is anonymous, and your story made me think of it, so I had to go the their website and look through the archives until I found it. I was aided by the fact that I remember where I was when I read the story, so I could isolate the time frame pretty closely.

TWO HANDSHAKES AWAY


My mother loved parades and early on imbued me with a love of same. An incident at one sticks in my mind. I believe it was in 1926 or 1927. I can’t be sure as I was only a small boy then.

While standing on the curb in Newark, New Jersey, watching a Decoration Day parade pass by, I found myself near a group of seven or eight ancient Civil War veterans. I looked over their beards, their blue Grand Army of the Republic coats and broadbrimmed campaign hats, and I wished I could grow a beard like one of theirs. One old soldier called, “Sonny, come over here,” and “Sonny” obediently did. He said, “Shake my hand,” and I did. “Now,” he said, “you’re only two handshakes from the Revolution.” When he was about my age, six or seven, he had shaken hands with a veteran of that war.

I fully intend someday to pass on this membership in an exclusive club to another young hand. He’ll be three shakes from the great event. We certainly are a young country.

—John Clark Alberts, Lt. CoL, U.S. Air Force (Ret.), lives in North Barrington, Illinois.

American Heritage, October 1996
http://www.americanheritage.com/arti...996_6_34.shtml

[GoldenRivet]

Wow thats something else.

glad you shared that

[Platapus]

In 94 I was dating this lady and I was able to meet her father. B-24 pilot. Liked him, dumped her. Wish I could still stay in contact with him, if he has not passed away yet.

Just being able to talk to this old guys opens up your mind to so many different viewpoints.

We, as a nation, need to hunt down all surviving WWII veterans, stick someone with a tape recorder in front of them and just record their memories and impressions. We are running out of time.

[mookiemookie]

Great story, man. It goes to show that you never know what life will bring you.

[SteamWake]

Thats an absolutly stunning story GR.

You should feel very gratified and graced to have had such an experience.

I am envious.

[Sledgehammer427]

I have recently discovered how famous some of my girlfriends family is...

I got to meet J.K. Havener, he is my girlfriend's great uncle.
He was aboard the Marauder that had to crash-land at Manston. (not the only one that had to do so but it's rather famous here)
http://www.bomberlegends.com/pdf/BL_...-1-Mediums.pdf

and if memory serves me right he also flew in Vietnam. His was one of the first bombers in Operation Rolling Thunder (if I got my operations right)

very touching GR, It must have been like a shovel to the forehead after he said B-17's