My Path to Pilothood: The Beginning

Man must rise above the Earth -- to the top of the atmosphere and beyond -- for only thus will he fully understand the world in which he lives.

--Socrates

I can't honestly say that I remember the exact moment in my childhood when I first realized that I had an overpowering desire to fly. I really wish I could put my finger on just what events in my early life led to my heart being inexplicably tied to the sky. But for as long as I remember, I have had the urge to become one with the sky, to experience what I've always been sure is the ultimate freedom -- the freedom of soaring over objects on the ground that have always towered over me.

Maybe it stems from hours upon hours of playing in the fields on the farm where I grew up, watching as everything from small private aircraft to airliners to military transports, bombers, and fighters made their way past in the skies above. My absolute favorite time of the year, however, was the summer, when I had my own personal airshow on a regular basis. Living on a farm provided me with the opportunity to study crop-dusters at work. I was amazed at these aircraft hurtling along at, what seemed to a child, close to a million miles per hour. I stood in wonder as they pulled up violently at the end of the field, just barely missing the trees. I would watch the tops of the trees whip in the wake of the airplane as it passed within feet of the branches. I studied the swirling of the spray, due to what I now understand are the wingtip vortices generated by the wintips of the airplane. It was, to a small child enamored with aviation, a real treat to watch, one which I looked forward to every summer.

Of course, it could be a product of my natural curiosity. Early on, I can remember wondering what mysterious forces kept those craft in the air. I mean, the wings didn't flap like a bird's, so what invisible hand was keeping them aloft? That natural curiosity about all things scientific led to some rather unusual books gracing the bookshelf of a five-year-old. One set of books was a series called "How Things Work", and they must have been products of the Disney Corporation, since they were filled with images of Mickey, Donald and Goofy. The one section of those books that was read and re-read until the pages fell out was the section on how airplanes work.

With the help of the Disney gang, I became familiar with the physics of flight. Of course, at that age I didn't know that I was learning physics. All I knew was that I had finally had explained to me, in terms that I could understand, just what it was that kept those mystical metal bodies from falling into the fields surrounding my house. I wanted to learn more.

Whatever the source of my devotion to the idea of aviation, it is something that has been ingrained in my soul for as long as I can remember.

I had long since determined that the best way to learn about anything is to experience it, to do it for myself. And I had every intention to do it for myself. More than once, my mission to build my own airplane was foiled by the intervention of a concerned parent or grandparent. So much to my dismay, I never actually completed my mission of getting myself into the air.

My desire was not diminished, however. In fact, I found that as I grew, and as my knowledge about such things avian grew, my desire to become a part of "that group" became stronger and stronger. Just what is "that group"? "That group" is the group of larger-than-life, ten-foot-tall, bulletproof humans who dare to trust those invisible forces of physics to hold them up in the sky. They are the group of humans who dare to face certain death in the face and laugh as they soar off into the blue. They are the group of humans who have freedom that a small portion of the population have ever experienced. They are, and have always been, heroes to me.

Fast forward to my college days, and you would have found me working part time for a family friend, who just so happened to have a friend who was a pilot. This pilot was also a friend of my father's, but much more distant than our family friend. It was through this pilot that I received my first ride in a private aircraft. And thus begins the tale...