Recently, I got into a flying discussion with a current airline Captain, and it got me thinking about my old flying days. I thought it might be interesting for some if I were to tell about my experiences, so here goes.
I don’t really know when I decided to learn to fly, but I remember being at an air show in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and seeing a little red 2-seat plane (probably a homebuilt) for sale. I remember thinking that it would be neat to own one like that. Not long after, I got a divorce, sold off my Auto Repair business and moved to Eau Claire. Like many recently divorced people, I decided to have a go at some of the things on my “to do” list, and I guess that is how and when the decision was made.
I took my very first flight lesson on October 2nd, 1983, when I was 31 years old. It was relatively late in life to end one career and start another, but then I never have been one to conform.
I almost completed my private pilot training at Gibson Aviation in Eau Claire, but bad weather held me up the last couple weeks I was in Wisconsin, and I finished that training at Riverside Aero in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Within a couple weeks, I entered the Commercial/Instrument training course at Spartan School of Aeronautics on Riverside Airport in Tulsa. At the time, Spartan was one of the two most respected pilot training facilities in the country, and the oldest.
I was very fortunate at Spartan. The first instructor I had I did not like, and requested another after the first two lessons. I was then assigned to a new instructor on staff. He had flown Mig 17’s and Mig 21’s in the Polish Air Force and, with his helicopter pilot brother had defected to this country. I remember on about our 2nd or 3rd lesson asking him to show me spins. I explained that while training in Eau Claire, the 2 instructors there were not permitted to do them, and the FAA Designated Examiner would only show me one, not let me do it. Well, John got this BIG smile on his face and said he would be happy to. That day, and every day there after when our flight lesson was complete and we were returning to the airport, John would say….OK…lets head back and climb to 4000 feet, and he’d get this big grin on his face.. Every day, we would climb to 4000 feet, spin down, climb back up, spin down. After I got used to doing the one turn spins, we went to 2 and 3 turns, with recovery on a specified heading. We did spin recoveries under the hood, and later, a few times, we spun down through overcast and made the recoveries in actual IMC.
After my Commercial and Instrument check rides, I immediately took my Flight Instructors training and check ride. My CFI ride was in the morning, and I had my first student that afternoon. I started instructing at the Haskell Airport, about 25 miles from Tulsa. They had a C-152 Aerobat to train in, and a couple students waiting. I remember one time myself and a friend from Spartan, Margarita, took the Aerobat up and were seeing how high we could get the G-meter to go. (For you non-pilots, that’s G force….or one gravity force) Margarita was a very pretty Mexican girl of about 100 pounds, with a very impressive chest. It was really a hoot to watch her when we would pull the higher G’s, both negative and positive. I don’t think she ever did figure out why I was so amused.
I stayed at Haskell only a few months, and then began freelancing out of Riverside. There were 3 FBO’s there that I used. (An FBO is aviations version of a gas station) I got my students by making up flyers and going around at night putting them under the windshield wipers of cars. The funny thing is, I was far busier than any of the Instructors that actually worked at those FBO’s. I also got a pager and took to just hanging out at the airport. Many times I got biennial’s or check outs, even new students, just because I was right there and ready to go.
I took my private pilot, commercial pilot and instrument check rides with an old P-51 Fighter pilot from WWII, and my CFI ride with another examiner, also a WWII Fighter Pilot who had flown P-51’s and P-47’s. I want to tell you one of the stories he was fond of telling.
It seems he was returning to base on England one day, and was indulging in a little low flying. He was following a dirt road that he knew would take him to the base. As he crested a small hill; he met a single GI in a jeep. Things were happening pretty fast, I suppose Jimmy was moving at least 250 MPH, and must have been VERY low. He said he thought for sure he was going to hit the jeep, he yanked back on the stick and rolled as soon as he could…..he looked down and back to see the driver of the jeep had bailed out, the jeep was still moving down the road all by itself. He thought there would be hell to pay when he got to base, but nothing was ever said to him about it.
I guess I instructed for about 6 months or so before I had my first instrument student. I started him in training and began my CFII (Certified Flight Instructor Instrument) training and took the check ride.
It was about another 6 months before I returned to Spartan for my Multi-Engine rating in their Beachcraft Duchess. The examiner I had for that check ride was a former military pilot and certified jerk. Everyone (myself included) was scared to death of having him for a check ride because his fail rate was very high. I remember thinking the ride was going fairly well until he cut an engine on me during an ILS approach at Okmulgee. We were in VMC and I was under the hood, simulating instrument conditions. At DH he had not removed the hood, so I executed a missed approach, cleaned the airplane up and contacted approach on the miss. They assigned me a left turn, which was into the dead engine. I complied, and the examiner jumped all over me….HEY, YOUR TURNING INTO THE DEAD ENGINE….WHAT WERE YOU TOUGHT BY YOUR INSTRUCTOR? I told him that since I was using less than a standard rate turn, (very shallow bank) and indicated airspeed was well above VMC, (Velocity Minimum Controllable) there was no danger turning into the dead engine, and besides, a left turn was out over farm area, where a right turn would take me over the city, which I did not want to be over if the other engine quit.
He never said a word; we finished the ride, including another single engine VOR approach back into Riverside. I did not know what to expect, I knew he was a real stickler for the rules, and I kind of expected to bust the ride. Once we were parked and the engines shut down, he made some notes, then asked me to explain about my reasons for turning into a dead engine. When I finished, he nodded his head and said “very good ride, let’s go write up your new rating.”
That was the only ride I ever had to take with him, much to my relief. He was the only Examiner in the area that could give ATP rides, so he was at Riverside a lot. He also flew a corporate King Air for some company in Tulsa. As I said before, he really made a name for himself as a hard ass, and of being totally unforgiving of ANY mistakes. Then, one day he was flying the King Air. For some reason he had popped the circuit breaker for the gear warning. When the time came to land, the circuit breaker was forgotten, and so was putting the gear down. That shiny corporate King Air bellied into the Bartlesville, Oklahoma airport. After that incident, he never returned to Riverside to give a single check ride. That incident proved a couple things to me that have served me well to know. Number One, never, ever say “Let me show you how to do that” and Number Two, there are those that have, and those that will.
I started my Multi-engine instructor training in a Seneca I at Tulsa International, and finished in the Duchess at Spartan. When I took and passed that ride, I could instruct in both aircraft. A month or so went by, and I wasn’t getting much Multi time, so following a lead, I found a guy who owned 3 Twin Comanche’s, and I talked him into putting one of them on line at Riverside Aero, where I was doing most of my freelancing out of. I flew that Twin Comanche a lot. I gave about 100 hours of instruction in it…including giving my then Ob/Gyn Doctor girlfriend her multi-engine rating. I also did a lot of Pilot services with it. I loved that airplane. The Twin Comanche is the plane that made the FAA come up with VMC ratings…it is a very fast and unforgiving aircraft, but a supreme pleasure to fly.
After 1500 hours of logged flight time, I went to Olathe, Kansas and did my ATP (Airline Transport Pilot) rating in a Grumman Cougar.
During that time, I also started doing ferry work for the largest aircraft dealer in the world.
Red S Aircraft (Red Stevens) was based at Tulsa Riverside, and I had wandered over there a few times. That is where I found the Grumman Tiger that my girlfriend purchased and finished her private training in, and did her instrument rating in. John Denver and Roy Clark had both purchased airplanes from Red, and were on occasion found hanging out there, as were several former Pro-football players and Pro-wrestlers, WaHoo McDaniels is one name that comes to mind, and Cowboy Bill Watts was running one of the FBO’s not far from Red’s place, so there was always something interesting going on.
My first flight for Red was picking up an old Civil Air Patrol C-150. It took a couple 5 gallon cans of fuel, jumper cables, and wasp killer to get it ready to fly, and nothing worked on it, and I do mean nothing, not even the airspeed indicator. Both I and the Cessna made it back to Red’s place on time, and none the worse for wear, after that I did occasional flights for him and another dealer on the field. Once, Red filled about a third of a South West Airlines 737 with pilots, and we all flew out to Los Angles to pick up a group of aircraft he had purchased sight unseen. I flew back a stiff leg C-182, and there were a couple Lears, and I don’t remember what else.
Red was quite a guy, and I liked him, despite the fact that Oliver North was one of his heroes. He held altitude records for hot air balloon, had flown hundreds of different aircraft, and even wrote a book about his adventures which was published, “My Life and How I Flew It.”
I had been sending out, on average, about 50 resumes a week, and early one morning, when it was still dark out and pouring rain, my phone rings. It is the Chief pilot from TCNA. (Turks and Caicos National Airlines) He wants me to fly down for an interview, and a few days later I arrive on Grand Turk in the British West Indies. The job was flying BN-2’s inter-island, and also to Haiti and the Dominican Republic, with occasional flights to South Florida and the Bahamas. The BN-2’s or Islanders are British built, and ugly. They are very heavy on the controls, extremely slow and most pilots do not want to be seen getting in or out of one, but they are great island airplanes. I have heard many times of Pilots landing them backwards. If I remember right, VSO is 39 knots, and VMC is 38, so in ground effect, with a good stiff headwind, it is very possible many did it. My personal best was crossing a 3 foot high fence on Salt Key, fully loaded, touching down and turning into the parking area without using a bit of brakes, total distance, about 2 airplane lengths.
After I passed 500 hours of multi-engine time, I quit from TCNA and returned to the US. My Girlfriend had finished her residency and was starting private practice in Pensacola, Florida. We bought a home on a private airpark near Jay, and I started looking for flying jobs. It did not take long to discover that there were no jobs in the area, and no prospects. I was in Pensacola for about two months, then took a flying job with a commuter based in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. They flew C-402 C models to the Bahamas and I was with them a little over a year. One night I returned from my flights, went up to op’s and checked my line for the next day, and went home. The next morning when I came to work, the place was locked up tight.
There was one funny event that happened I want to tell about. One night I was ready to depart Freeport, on Grand Bahama Island for Fort Lauderdale. I had a full load which included 2 white Americans and 7 black Bahamians. There were some small thunderstorms in the area, and gusty winds, but nothing to worry about. I had already started the engines and received taxi clearance when all the lights on the field went out. Ground advised I return to the ramp area and wait until they could get the lights back on, which I did. On parking on the ramp, I shut down the engines to wait. Once the engines were off, it was dead quite and completely dark in the plane, and you could hear the wind gusts, and feel the plane rocking from them. A few minutes pass, and one passenger turns on an overhead light. I see all the Bahamians are frightened. Finally, a girl of about 20 says “God turned off the lights because he does not want us to leave.” She was ready to get out right there, but I convinced her to wait until I could get someone outside to help her...It seems she had a baby or small child with her. By the time some one came, and that girl was getting off, the Bahamians were all getting quite nervous. As that one girl steps off the plane, a big, strapping guy of about 30 says, “well, if God don’t want us to go, I guess I’ll get off too.” Once he was up and heading for the door, every Bahamian on that plane got off. Within 5 minutes, the lights were back on, and I departed for Fort Lauderdale with the two white Americans. We all had a good laugh about that on the way back.
It only took a couple weeks to find a job flying another BN-2 The lady who owned the operation flew divers into the Bahamas for diving excursions, and also flew provisions to some of the more remote islands. Her X-husband held several diving records, and owned some dive shops in the islands. They had started the 135 business together when they were first married. I enjoyed working there, it was a more relaxed atmosphere, the Feds were not around as much, and Vicki was one very serious Babe. Even though we both knew better, we ended up dating a few times. All went well until she lost her Bahamas route certification because she would not pay some required “fees,” or, more accurately, bribes, and I once again found myself looking for work.
I had talked with the Chief Pilot of another C-402 carrier, he had even offered me a job, but I had declined it when Vicki’s operation was still up and running. Now, I looked him up, and soon had an interview and flight test with that company. I began flying for Airways International shortly after. They were based in Miami, and flew about 40 C-402’s, a Lear 25 and 3 Shorts SD-30’s. With them, I overnighted in the Bahamas 5 or 6 nights a week. They also flew into Key West, and they had a condo and car there for the pilots, so I got to know Duvall Street quite well on the over nights there.
During my time in South Florida, I started to meet the first really interesting women I had ever known. Many are still friends today, and in some ways, I think back on those days with fond memories.
I was with Airways International for about two years flying the 402’s. (Bear in mind that a C-402 is a 10 seat, or 9 passenger airplane. I could put a passenger in the co-pilots seat)
When I first started with them, the Director of Operations did not like me to well, our paths had crossed in the Bahamas a time or two…enough said. As time passed though, that changed, and the owner also liked me because I did not care about crossing all the T’s and dotting all the I’s. I was willing to take the extra passenger, or the extra bag, even if I was a little over weight, and that willingness on my part got me on some of the more choice flights. Several times a year, we would have a charter to different Islands for magazine and fashion photo shoots. One of the SD-30’s would go out first with the photographers and equipment, and the next day, the models would arrive. I often got to haul the models….a real tough job, but someone had to do it.
During that time I also carried the band “The Culture Club” and members of “Oingo Boingo.” Barbra Mandrel and her sisters went twice a year to their place on Treasure Key in the Abaco’s, and I had them on my flights a couple times. Louise, the cute one with black hair, I had in the co-pilot seat once, and got to spend some time talking with her.
Once, on a 30 minute flight from Fort Lauderdale to Freeport, Grand Bahamas, I had quite a scare. I had a full load that day, and had put a small but quite fat girl in the seat directly behind me. I guess she was worried about getting hungry on that half hour flight, and had put a bag of emergency potato chips in her purse, which she held on her lap. The purse would have been inches behind my head, and bear in mind, a C-402 is an unpressurized airplane. As I climbed through about 3000 feet I heard what sounded for all the world like a gun shot. I jumped and turned to see smoke rising out of the purse previously mentioned. The bag of chips, bought at a sea level store, had blown up as we climbed and outside air pressure decreased. A very red faced girl ate them before we arrived in Freeport.
One thing I always liked to do, especially if I had passengers that seemed excited about going on their trip, was to ask if they would prefer to go up high, where it was cool, or stay low and sight see. The islands and waters of the Bahamas are beautiful, especially around the Eleuthra and Exuma chains. Many of the James Bond, 007 movies were in part shot there, and there are many wrecked airplanes, sunken ships, and all manor of curiosity’s to see.
One day I had 4 mid-30ish couples from Iowa on my flight. It was obvious they were all traveling together, and were very excited about their vacation to the Bahamas. They were heading for Georgetown, on the Southern end of the Exuma chain. My normal procedure was to climb off Miami or Fort Lauderdale, and as soon as I was about 10 miles out cancel flight following and get the headsets off. I would over fly Bimini, cross Andros Island, pass just south of Nassau and join the Exuma chain near the northern end and follow it south to Georgetown. That made for a slight dog leg in the route and maybe add 10 minutes to the flight but gave the opportunity to show my passengers several of the more famous sites, including the Bimini road, Alice Town on Bimini where Hemmingway spent a lot of time, several of the 007 movie locations and so on.
I had the cutest girl in the co-pilot seat, her husband was behind her, and the other couples were side by side behind him. I remember one girl had a video cam she was using a lot. As we neared the Exumas I saw a sail boat anchored in a bay, by a remote beach. We were at about 100 feet above the surface, and I decided to make my right turn to head south around that sail boat. About the time we were almost directly over the sail boat, one of the girls yells something, and everybody else joins in, they are laughing and the girl with the video camera is really trying hard to get video of something. I made the turn and began following the islands south, the passengers are settling down, and the girl in the co-pilots seat looks at me and is a little red faced, but laughing. I ask her what was going on down there. She says “there was a man and woman on the boat.” Her husband behind her, holds up his hand, makes a circle with his thumb and 1st finger, then, puts the 1st finger of the other hand into that circle and moves it back and forth. Seems the Captain had his First Mate bent over the railing and was giving it to her doggy style. I’ll bet they are a very popular couple in Iowa even today.
Near the end of my airline career, I was sitting in Key West and was assigned a charter to Nassau. The charter was for a single lady, in her late 20’s I’d guess, and fairly attractive. I filed my flight plan; got the plane ready, and soon my passenger arrived. As we walked to the aircraft, I told her she could sit anywhere she liked, and she asks for the co-pilots seat. She placed her only bag in the rear of the passenger compartment, and we departed Key West. As soon as I was clear of the Airport traffic area, I called Miami Flight Service to open my flight plan. They had lost the flight plan, (not uncommon) and as we climbed to altitude I ask to air file. The girl at Miami Flight Service was a real Bitch. At first she refused…which technically she could not do. She finally took the air file, but the delay was to be costly for me down the line.
My passenger was asking questions about the resorts in the Bahamas. She had a meeting in Nassau with the Minister of Tourism, and wanted some input from me since I had by then spent a lot of time in the islands. We talked for a while, and she asked how much longer to Nassau, because her appointment time was not far away. I think we were about 30 minutes out; I showed her the DME with distance and time to station readouts. She says “hey, I better change; I can’t go like this….do you mind if I change in the plane??” I of course did not, and she walked back to get her bag, then came back up front. At this time, the auto pilot was doing the flying, and I was turned, sitting sideways, facing the isle. When she got back up front, and was standing just behind the co-pilots seat, she just lifted her sun dress up and over her head, kicked off her sandals, and was totally nude. She then proceeded to fix her hair, do a quick touch up on her make up, put on some stockings, fairly high heels, panties, and finally her dress. By then, it was time to call Nassau Approach and get ready to land. It was a couple hours later before it dawned on me that I should have ask her for a phone number.
In a matter of days I heard from the FAA. They said I had crossed the ADIZ (Air Defense Intercept Zone) without a flight plan. Explaining that I had in fact filed, but Miami had lost it, and explaining about the delay with the airfile did no good. Our POI (Principle Operations Inspector) had a real hatred for the owner of Airways International, who happened to be Arab. He had walked into the ready room one day when about 15 of us pilots were there, and made the statement that he did not like Johan (the owner), did not like the way he run his airline, and was going to shut him down, even if he had to violate every pilot that flew for him. To a few of us older guys, that was just an idle threat and made no impression, but many of the Captains there were early to mid-20’s, and had visions of the Majors dancing in their heads. They could not afford a single violation, and they, and our POI knew it. I and a couple of the older Captains just basically ignored his threats. He would come in and ask who was flying a certain airplane, then proceed to list a couple things he found wrong with it, like an oil leak or low tire. He did that to me a couple times, but I would just go out and look at the plane, seem real concerned, then come back in and say I saw nothing wrong, and refuse to write it up. The younger guys though, when put on the spot, would write up the alleged problem. The aircraft would then have to be removed from service, a qualified mechanic would have to inspect it and sign it off as airworthy. Doing that was just a nuisance, but it delayed flights and annoyed passengers.
The FAA was pressuring Johan to fire me, but he refused. He did tell me all he could do was hold them off for a while; he was going to have to fire me unless I admitted to the violation and took a 30 day suspension of my ATP privileges. I decided to fight the FAA and hired an Aviation attorney. Within about 2 or 3 weeks, Johan called me at home, and said he had to terminate me because of pressure from the FAA. I ended up winning the case and was cleared of any wrong doing, the FAA even admitted they knew there was a problem with the Miami FSS losing flight plans, but the FAA really got more than they ask for. I lost my job; spent money on legal fee’s and tied up a year’s time when no other airline would even talk to me because of the on going case. I did that all to try and keep my record clean.
During that time, and also between jobs, I had continued to do an occasional ferry flight, a little flight instructing and so on. I was starting to fly aerobatics, first a Citrabia, then Super Decathlon and finally a Pitts S2. When I started the advanced aerobatics, my instructor had me start some of his students in the tail-wheel transition and basic aerobatics courses. I would fly the first few lessons with them, do the tail-wheel sign off in a Maule. Then in the Citabria and/or Super Decathlon basic maneuvers and spins, loops and rolls. Flying was starting to be fun again. I was thinking about air shows, about competing in them, thought about buying a Pitts or Christian Eagle, but financially I could not swing it.
The airlines, even the not quite top of the line commuters I had flown for, were far to structured for my taste. I hated wearing the shirt/tie/jacket/eppulates/and gold wings. I called it my “space suit.”
The pilots I had always admired were the old mail pilots of the 20’s 30’s and 40’s. Many of them were WWI fighter pilots, and in fact, many of the early mail planes were surplus Jenny’s. I remember a story told of a certain airport in the mountains that was almost always covered in a low overcast early in the morning. There were no instrument approaches in them days, and the mountains made it impossible to get in under the clouds. There was a NDB (non-directional beacon) right at the field though, and the mail pilots would approach the NDB from altitude, then when directly overhead, stall and spin down through the overcast which often was only a few hundred feet AGL. (Above ground level) Perhaps I was born 50 years too late.
In South Florida, many of the Airports are former WWII training bases. Fort Lauderdale International is where Former president George Bush did some training in an Avenger. Hollywood North Perry, about 10 miles away is another. Opa Locka, a little farther south and West was also a WWII training field, and is where Amelia Earheart touched the soil of the USA for the last time.
My last flying job was off Opa Locka flying air ambulance. That company had a Seneca II, a couple King-Airs and a Citation. I was hired to fly the Seneca, and often times I would just go hang out at the airport like I did in my old Flight Instructor days. That company also flew Part 135 charters, so it paid me to be there and available at short notice. I had flown a couple “Life Flight” flights. They were non-critical flights, mostly older people going from a hospital up to Orlando or Tampa, or coming back to the Miami area.
One night I was watching TV in the operations building when the dispatcher hollered out he had a “Life Guard” flight if I wanted it. Life Guard is a critical flight, a life or lives are at stake, unlike a “Life Flight” flight. Asking if I wanted it was strange, but I soon found out why. This was summer in South Florida, home to numerous level 4 and 5 thunder storms almost every night. There had been a stabbing out in a small town in the Everglades. The Air Rescue helicopters could not even get off the ground in Naples or Fort Meyers because there were some very serious storms all up and down the west coast. On the East coast the weather was much better, and for most of the flight over the conditions would also be pretty good.
I was ready to go in a few minutes, and as the Med Tech approached the plane, I was starting the engines. There was an uncontrolled, unlit airport near where the stabbing had occurred, and the local police or sheriff was going to be there to meet us. The police also had a radio that could communicate on the multi-com frequency (122.9 ) that some uncontrolled airports, and crop dusters use, so I could be in contact with them enroute.
I was talking to Miami approach, and receiving vectors to a small town near the airport. They advised heavy weather to the South West moving North East quite rapidly, with imbedded level 4 and 5 thunderstorms. Without actually saying it, they were telling me if I was going to get in and out of there, I had better be quick about it. About 20 miles out I started to hit heavy rain, although conditions were still marginal VFR. By that time I could also talk to the police who were waiting for us, and I was advised to fly to the town, turn due south and follow a road about 3 miles to the airport. I remember the officer saying that just before the airport, the road jogged left, and the runway would look like the road running straight….I guess he thought I could see a lot better than was possible under the conditions at the time. I was down to the minimum safe altitude for that area, and maybe even a little less, 1500 AGL. The police advised heavy rain and strong, gusty winds at the field. He said his police car would be at the near end of the runway with headlights pointing down the runway and flashers going, another truck would be at the far end of the runway, with the headlights pointing towards me. By the time I reached the town, I was at about 900 feet and in heavy rain, I was still well below any clouds, but visibility was very poor. I found the road I was to follow with no problem and dropped a little lower. The rain was still heavy, and turbulence was getting quite bad. A long time seemed to pass, but I finally saw the flashing lights of the police car only about a quarter mile in front. I already had the gear down and 20 degrees of flaps out, all I dared use, so all I had to do was land in what seemed a bottomless pit, I never did really see the runway, just a glimpse or two of the white centerline markings.
Our patient was in the truck at the far end of the runway, and there were three people there I think that helped load him. In only a couple minutes we were ready to go, but by now, the wind was coming from all directions, the rain was heavy and the lightning and thunder almost constant. The Med Tech was strapping our patient down for departure and I asked him if he (the patient) had time to let the storm pass, he shook his head no. Words like wind shear and hydroplaning kept running through my head but I knew I was going to go. We took a pretty good beating, especially the Med Tech who did not get fully strapped in before takeoff, but we got out of there and I picked up a heading for Opa Locka. Within 30 or 40 miles, I was in smooth air and good VFR. At Opa Locka, our patient was transferred to an ambulance and transported to the hospital. He arrived there alive, with one serious stab wound in his chest, and several others to his face and arms.
That was my last flight with that company. Not long after, there was a problem with the Seneca and it was sold. I was offered right seat in either of the King-Airs or the Citation, but I declined.
My last logged flight was a few weeks later in a PA-23-150. An already multi-engine rated pilot had purchased an old Apache Twin and for insurance purposes I was giving him a check out. That flight was 1.2 hours on January 23, 1996, exactly 11 years ago today.
Twelve years three months and twenty-one days passed between that first flight as a student pilot and my last flight (Last flight to date anyway) as an ATP with CFII and MEI ratings. In that time I logged a total of approximately 6,500 hours total time, about 4,500 of those hours in multi-engine aircraft and about 1,600 hours as Instructor. I flew over 50 different makes and models of single engine, and over 20 different makes and models of multi-engine aircraft. The least time in a make and model was 4/10’s of an hour on a ferry flight in a Twin Bonanza, or T-Bone, and the most would be close to 2000 hours in C-402 C-models. As I write this, I do not have my log books available but I know those numbers are very close.
What do I wish would have happened, what do I wish I could have done? The answer might surprise some, but here goes. Given a choice of any aircraft that was ever made to fly a few hours in, my first choice, without the slightest hesitation, would be one of the later versions of the A6M, or, as it is better known, the Japanese Zero of WWII fame. Following in second place would be the German fighters of the same time, the American P-38 and then any other of the WWII fighters. Realistically though, chances of flying aircraft like that are almost non-existent.
The DC-3 and Beech 18 were two older aircraft I would have jumped at the chance to fly, along with the more modern Lear 24 or 25 and the MU-2.
I had lusted after a job with one of the 707/DC-8 freight carriers, even had a friend and former student who got on with one because his father was a senior pilot there. The father tried to get me an interview, but my uncorrected eye sight was so bad the company would not consider me. That would have been a great job for a few years, even if I would have had to wear a space suit again.
In the last 11 years I have thought many times of what might have been, but I have no regrets. I know I would not have been happy for long flying crew airplanes, even the single pilot flying I was doing for the airlines was starting to irritate me. The space suits and GQ, clean cut looks are not for me on an everyday basis.
I don’t really know when I decided to learn to fly, but I remember being at an air show in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and seeing a little red 2-seat plane (probably a homebuilt) for sale. I remember thinking that it would be neat to own one like that. Not long after, I got a divorce, sold off my Auto Repair business and moved to Eau Claire. Like many recently divorced people, I decided to have a go at some of the things on my “to do” list, and I guess that is how and when the decision was made.
I took my very first flight lesson on October 2nd, 1983, when I was 31 years old. It was relatively late in life to end one career and start another, but then I never have been one to conform.
I almost completed my private pilot training at Gibson Aviation in Eau Claire, but bad weather held me up the last couple weeks I was in Wisconsin, and I finished that training at Riverside Aero in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Within a couple weeks, I entered the Commercial/Instrument training course at Spartan School of Aeronautics on Riverside Airport in Tulsa. At the time, Spartan was one of the two most respected pilot training facilities in the country, and the oldest.
I was very fortunate at Spartan. The first instructor I had I did not like, and requested another after the first two lessons. I was then assigned to a new instructor on staff. He had flown Mig 17’s and Mig 21’s in the Polish Air Force and, with his helicopter pilot brother had defected to this country. I remember on about our 2nd or 3rd lesson asking him to show me spins. I explained that while training in Eau Claire, the 2 instructors there were not permitted to do them, and the FAA Designated Examiner would only show me one, not let me do it. Well, John got this BIG smile on his face and said he would be happy to. That day, and every day there after when our flight lesson was complete and we were returning to the airport, John would say….OK…lets head back and climb to 4000 feet, and he’d get this big grin on his face.. Every day, we would climb to 4000 feet, spin down, climb back up, spin down. After I got used to doing the one turn spins, we went to 2 and 3 turns, with recovery on a specified heading. We did spin recoveries under the hood, and later, a few times, we spun down through overcast and made the recoveries in actual IMC.
After my Commercial and Instrument check rides, I immediately took my Flight Instructors training and check ride. My CFI ride was in the morning, and I had my first student that afternoon. I started instructing at the Haskell Airport, about 25 miles from Tulsa. They had a C-152 Aerobat to train in, and a couple students waiting. I remember one time myself and a friend from Spartan, Margarita, took the Aerobat up and were seeing how high we could get the G-meter to go. (For you non-pilots, that’s G force….or one gravity force) Margarita was a very pretty Mexican girl of about 100 pounds, with a very impressive chest. It was really a hoot to watch her when we would pull the higher G’s, both negative and positive. I don’t think she ever did figure out why I was so amused.
I stayed at Haskell only a few months, and then began freelancing out of Riverside. There were 3 FBO’s there that I used. (An FBO is aviations version of a gas station) I got my students by making up flyers and going around at night putting them under the windshield wipers of cars. The funny thing is, I was far busier than any of the Instructors that actually worked at those FBO’s. I also got a pager and took to just hanging out at the airport. Many times I got biennial’s or check outs, even new students, just because I was right there and ready to go.
I took my private pilot, commercial pilot and instrument check rides with an old P-51 Fighter pilot from WWII, and my CFI ride with another examiner, also a WWII Fighter Pilot who had flown P-51’s and P-47’s. I want to tell you one of the stories he was fond of telling.
It seems he was returning to base on England one day, and was indulging in a little low flying. He was following a dirt road that he knew would take him to the base. As he crested a small hill; he met a single GI in a jeep. Things were happening pretty fast, I suppose Jimmy was moving at least 250 MPH, and must have been VERY low. He said he thought for sure he was going to hit the jeep, he yanked back on the stick and rolled as soon as he could…..he looked down and back to see the driver of the jeep had bailed out, the jeep was still moving down the road all by itself. He thought there would be hell to pay when he got to base, but nothing was ever said to him about it.
I guess I instructed for about 6 months or so before I had my first instrument student. I started him in training and began my CFII (Certified Flight Instructor Instrument) training and took the check ride.
It was about another 6 months before I returned to Spartan for my Multi-Engine rating in their Beachcraft Duchess. The examiner I had for that check ride was a former military pilot and certified jerk. Everyone (myself included) was scared to death of having him for a check ride because his fail rate was very high. I remember thinking the ride was going fairly well until he cut an engine on me during an ILS approach at Okmulgee. We were in VMC and I was under the hood, simulating instrument conditions. At DH he had not removed the hood, so I executed a missed approach, cleaned the airplane up and contacted approach on the miss. They assigned me a left turn, which was into the dead engine. I complied, and the examiner jumped all over me….HEY, YOUR TURNING INTO THE DEAD ENGINE….WHAT WERE YOU TOUGHT BY YOUR INSTRUCTOR? I told him that since I was using less than a standard rate turn, (very shallow bank) and indicated airspeed was well above VMC, (Velocity Minimum Controllable) there was no danger turning into the dead engine, and besides, a left turn was out over farm area, where a right turn would take me over the city, which I did not want to be over if the other engine quit.
He never said a word; we finished the ride, including another single engine VOR approach back into Riverside. I did not know what to expect, I knew he was a real stickler for the rules, and I kind of expected to bust the ride. Once we were parked and the engines shut down, he made some notes, then asked me to explain about my reasons for turning into a dead engine. When I finished, he nodded his head and said “very good ride, let’s go write up your new rating.”
That was the only ride I ever had to take with him, much to my relief. He was the only Examiner in the area that could give ATP rides, so he was at Riverside a lot. He also flew a corporate King Air for some company in Tulsa. As I said before, he really made a name for himself as a hard ass, and of being totally unforgiving of ANY mistakes. Then, one day he was flying the King Air. For some reason he had popped the circuit breaker for the gear warning. When the time came to land, the circuit breaker was forgotten, and so was putting the gear down. That shiny corporate King Air bellied into the Bartlesville, Oklahoma airport. After that incident, he never returned to Riverside to give a single check ride. That incident proved a couple things to me that have served me well to know. Number One, never, ever say “Let me show you how to do that” and Number Two, there are those that have, and those that will.
I started my Multi-engine instructor training in a Seneca I at Tulsa International, and finished in the Duchess at Spartan. When I took and passed that ride, I could instruct in both aircraft. A month or so went by, and I wasn’t getting much Multi time, so following a lead, I found a guy who owned 3 Twin Comanche’s, and I talked him into putting one of them on line at Riverside Aero, where I was doing most of my freelancing out of. I flew that Twin Comanche a lot. I gave about 100 hours of instruction in it…including giving my then Ob/Gyn Doctor girlfriend her multi-engine rating. I also did a lot of Pilot services with it. I loved that airplane. The Twin Comanche is the plane that made the FAA come up with VMC ratings…it is a very fast and unforgiving aircraft, but a supreme pleasure to fly.
After 1500 hours of logged flight time, I went to Olathe, Kansas and did my ATP (Airline Transport Pilot) rating in a Grumman Cougar.
During that time, I also started doing ferry work for the largest aircraft dealer in the world.
Red S Aircraft (Red Stevens) was based at Tulsa Riverside, and I had wandered over there a few times. That is where I found the Grumman Tiger that my girlfriend purchased and finished her private training in, and did her instrument rating in. John Denver and Roy Clark had both purchased airplanes from Red, and were on occasion found hanging out there, as were several former Pro-football players and Pro-wrestlers, WaHoo McDaniels is one name that comes to mind, and Cowboy Bill Watts was running one of the FBO’s not far from Red’s place, so there was always something interesting going on.
My first flight for Red was picking up an old Civil Air Patrol C-150. It took a couple 5 gallon cans of fuel, jumper cables, and wasp killer to get it ready to fly, and nothing worked on it, and I do mean nothing, not even the airspeed indicator. Both I and the Cessna made it back to Red’s place on time, and none the worse for wear, after that I did occasional flights for him and another dealer on the field. Once, Red filled about a third of a South West Airlines 737 with pilots, and we all flew out to Los Angles to pick up a group of aircraft he had purchased sight unseen. I flew back a stiff leg C-182, and there were a couple Lears, and I don’t remember what else.
Red was quite a guy, and I liked him, despite the fact that Oliver North was one of his heroes. He held altitude records for hot air balloon, had flown hundreds of different aircraft, and even wrote a book about his adventures which was published, “My Life and How I Flew It.”
I had been sending out, on average, about 50 resumes a week, and early one morning, when it was still dark out and pouring rain, my phone rings. It is the Chief pilot from TCNA. (Turks and Caicos National Airlines) He wants me to fly down for an interview, and a few days later I arrive on Grand Turk in the British West Indies. The job was flying BN-2’s inter-island, and also to Haiti and the Dominican Republic, with occasional flights to South Florida and the Bahamas. The BN-2’s or Islanders are British built, and ugly. They are very heavy on the controls, extremely slow and most pilots do not want to be seen getting in or out of one, but they are great island airplanes. I have heard many times of Pilots landing them backwards. If I remember right, VSO is 39 knots, and VMC is 38, so in ground effect, with a good stiff headwind, it is very possible many did it. My personal best was crossing a 3 foot high fence on Salt Key, fully loaded, touching down and turning into the parking area without using a bit of brakes, total distance, about 2 airplane lengths.
After I passed 500 hours of multi-engine time, I quit from TCNA and returned to the US. My Girlfriend had finished her residency and was starting private practice in Pensacola, Florida. We bought a home on a private airpark near Jay, and I started looking for flying jobs. It did not take long to discover that there were no jobs in the area, and no prospects. I was in Pensacola for about two months, then took a flying job with a commuter based in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. They flew C-402 C models to the Bahamas and I was with them a little over a year. One night I returned from my flights, went up to op’s and checked my line for the next day, and went home. The next morning when I came to work, the place was locked up tight.
There was one funny event that happened I want to tell about. One night I was ready to depart Freeport, on Grand Bahama Island for Fort Lauderdale. I had a full load which included 2 white Americans and 7 black Bahamians. There were some small thunderstorms in the area, and gusty winds, but nothing to worry about. I had already started the engines and received taxi clearance when all the lights on the field went out. Ground advised I return to the ramp area and wait until they could get the lights back on, which I did. On parking on the ramp, I shut down the engines to wait. Once the engines were off, it was dead quite and completely dark in the plane, and you could hear the wind gusts, and feel the plane rocking from them. A few minutes pass, and one passenger turns on an overhead light. I see all the Bahamians are frightened. Finally, a girl of about 20 says “God turned off the lights because he does not want us to leave.” She was ready to get out right there, but I convinced her to wait until I could get someone outside to help her...It seems she had a baby or small child with her. By the time some one came, and that girl was getting off, the Bahamians were all getting quite nervous. As that one girl steps off the plane, a big, strapping guy of about 30 says, “well, if God don’t want us to go, I guess I’ll get off too.” Once he was up and heading for the door, every Bahamian on that plane got off. Within 5 minutes, the lights were back on, and I departed for Fort Lauderdale with the two white Americans. We all had a good laugh about that on the way back.
It only took a couple weeks to find a job flying another BN-2 The lady who owned the operation flew divers into the Bahamas for diving excursions, and also flew provisions to some of the more remote islands. Her X-husband held several diving records, and owned some dive shops in the islands. They had started the 135 business together when they were first married. I enjoyed working there, it was a more relaxed atmosphere, the Feds were not around as much, and Vicki was one very serious Babe. Even though we both knew better, we ended up dating a few times. All went well until she lost her Bahamas route certification because she would not pay some required “fees,” or, more accurately, bribes, and I once again found myself looking for work.
I had talked with the Chief Pilot of another C-402 carrier, he had even offered me a job, but I had declined it when Vicki’s operation was still up and running. Now, I looked him up, and soon had an interview and flight test with that company. I began flying for Airways International shortly after. They were based in Miami, and flew about 40 C-402’s, a Lear 25 and 3 Shorts SD-30’s. With them, I overnighted in the Bahamas 5 or 6 nights a week. They also flew into Key West, and they had a condo and car there for the pilots, so I got to know Duvall Street quite well on the over nights there.
During my time in South Florida, I started to meet the first really interesting women I had ever known. Many are still friends today, and in some ways, I think back on those days with fond memories.
I was with Airways International for about two years flying the 402’s. (Bear in mind that a C-402 is a 10 seat, or 9 passenger airplane. I could put a passenger in the co-pilots seat)
When I first started with them, the Director of Operations did not like me to well, our paths had crossed in the Bahamas a time or two…enough said. As time passed though, that changed, and the owner also liked me because I did not care about crossing all the T’s and dotting all the I’s. I was willing to take the extra passenger, or the extra bag, even if I was a little over weight, and that willingness on my part got me on some of the more choice flights. Several times a year, we would have a charter to different Islands for magazine and fashion photo shoots. One of the SD-30’s would go out first with the photographers and equipment, and the next day, the models would arrive. I often got to haul the models….a real tough job, but someone had to do it.
During that time I also carried the band “The Culture Club” and members of “Oingo Boingo.” Barbra Mandrel and her sisters went twice a year to their place on Treasure Key in the Abaco’s, and I had them on my flights a couple times. Louise, the cute one with black hair, I had in the co-pilot seat once, and got to spend some time talking with her.
Once, on a 30 minute flight from Fort Lauderdale to Freeport, Grand Bahamas, I had quite a scare. I had a full load that day, and had put a small but quite fat girl in the seat directly behind me. I guess she was worried about getting hungry on that half hour flight, and had put a bag of emergency potato chips in her purse, which she held on her lap. The purse would have been inches behind my head, and bear in mind, a C-402 is an unpressurized airplane. As I climbed through about 3000 feet I heard what sounded for all the world like a gun shot. I jumped and turned to see smoke rising out of the purse previously mentioned. The bag of chips, bought at a sea level store, had blown up as we climbed and outside air pressure decreased. A very red faced girl ate them before we arrived in Freeport.
One thing I always liked to do, especially if I had passengers that seemed excited about going on their trip, was to ask if they would prefer to go up high, where it was cool, or stay low and sight see. The islands and waters of the Bahamas are beautiful, especially around the Eleuthra and Exuma chains. Many of the James Bond, 007 movies were in part shot there, and there are many wrecked airplanes, sunken ships, and all manor of curiosity’s to see.
One day I had 4 mid-30ish couples from Iowa on my flight. It was obvious they were all traveling together, and were very excited about their vacation to the Bahamas. They were heading for Georgetown, on the Southern end of the Exuma chain. My normal procedure was to climb off Miami or Fort Lauderdale, and as soon as I was about 10 miles out cancel flight following and get the headsets off. I would over fly Bimini, cross Andros Island, pass just south of Nassau and join the Exuma chain near the northern end and follow it south to Georgetown. That made for a slight dog leg in the route and maybe add 10 minutes to the flight but gave the opportunity to show my passengers several of the more famous sites, including the Bimini road, Alice Town on Bimini where Hemmingway spent a lot of time, several of the 007 movie locations and so on.
I had the cutest girl in the co-pilot seat, her husband was behind her, and the other couples were side by side behind him. I remember one girl had a video cam she was using a lot. As we neared the Exumas I saw a sail boat anchored in a bay, by a remote beach. We were at about 100 feet above the surface, and I decided to make my right turn to head south around that sail boat. About the time we were almost directly over the sail boat, one of the girls yells something, and everybody else joins in, they are laughing and the girl with the video camera is really trying hard to get video of something. I made the turn and began following the islands south, the passengers are settling down, and the girl in the co-pilots seat looks at me and is a little red faced, but laughing. I ask her what was going on down there. She says “there was a man and woman on the boat.” Her husband behind her, holds up his hand, makes a circle with his thumb and 1st finger, then, puts the 1st finger of the other hand into that circle and moves it back and forth. Seems the Captain had his First Mate bent over the railing and was giving it to her doggy style. I’ll bet they are a very popular couple in Iowa even today.
Near the end of my airline career, I was sitting in Key West and was assigned a charter to Nassau. The charter was for a single lady, in her late 20’s I’d guess, and fairly attractive. I filed my flight plan; got the plane ready, and soon my passenger arrived. As we walked to the aircraft, I told her she could sit anywhere she liked, and she asks for the co-pilots seat. She placed her only bag in the rear of the passenger compartment, and we departed Key West. As soon as I was clear of the Airport traffic area, I called Miami Flight Service to open my flight plan. They had lost the flight plan, (not uncommon) and as we climbed to altitude I ask to air file. The girl at Miami Flight Service was a real Bitch. At first she refused…which technically she could not do. She finally took the air file, but the delay was to be costly for me down the line.
My passenger was asking questions about the resorts in the Bahamas. She had a meeting in Nassau with the Minister of Tourism, and wanted some input from me since I had by then spent a lot of time in the islands. We talked for a while, and she asked how much longer to Nassau, because her appointment time was not far away. I think we were about 30 minutes out; I showed her the DME with distance and time to station readouts. She says “hey, I better change; I can’t go like this….do you mind if I change in the plane??” I of course did not, and she walked back to get her bag, then came back up front. At this time, the auto pilot was doing the flying, and I was turned, sitting sideways, facing the isle. When she got back up front, and was standing just behind the co-pilots seat, she just lifted her sun dress up and over her head, kicked off her sandals, and was totally nude. She then proceeded to fix her hair, do a quick touch up on her make up, put on some stockings, fairly high heels, panties, and finally her dress. By then, it was time to call Nassau Approach and get ready to land. It was a couple hours later before it dawned on me that I should have ask her for a phone number.
In a matter of days I heard from the FAA. They said I had crossed the ADIZ (Air Defense Intercept Zone) without a flight plan. Explaining that I had in fact filed, but Miami had lost it, and explaining about the delay with the airfile did no good. Our POI (Principle Operations Inspector) had a real hatred for the owner of Airways International, who happened to be Arab. He had walked into the ready room one day when about 15 of us pilots were there, and made the statement that he did not like Johan (the owner), did not like the way he run his airline, and was going to shut him down, even if he had to violate every pilot that flew for him. To a few of us older guys, that was just an idle threat and made no impression, but many of the Captains there were early to mid-20’s, and had visions of the Majors dancing in their heads. They could not afford a single violation, and they, and our POI knew it. I and a couple of the older Captains just basically ignored his threats. He would come in and ask who was flying a certain airplane, then proceed to list a couple things he found wrong with it, like an oil leak or low tire. He did that to me a couple times, but I would just go out and look at the plane, seem real concerned, then come back in and say I saw nothing wrong, and refuse to write it up. The younger guys though, when put on the spot, would write up the alleged problem. The aircraft would then have to be removed from service, a qualified mechanic would have to inspect it and sign it off as airworthy. Doing that was just a nuisance, but it delayed flights and annoyed passengers.
The FAA was pressuring Johan to fire me, but he refused. He did tell me all he could do was hold them off for a while; he was going to have to fire me unless I admitted to the violation and took a 30 day suspension of my ATP privileges. I decided to fight the FAA and hired an Aviation attorney. Within about 2 or 3 weeks, Johan called me at home, and said he had to terminate me because of pressure from the FAA. I ended up winning the case and was cleared of any wrong doing, the FAA even admitted they knew there was a problem with the Miami FSS losing flight plans, but the FAA really got more than they ask for. I lost my job; spent money on legal fee’s and tied up a year’s time when no other airline would even talk to me because of the on going case. I did that all to try and keep my record clean.
During that time, and also between jobs, I had continued to do an occasional ferry flight, a little flight instructing and so on. I was starting to fly aerobatics, first a Citrabia, then Super Decathlon and finally a Pitts S2. When I started the advanced aerobatics, my instructor had me start some of his students in the tail-wheel transition and basic aerobatics courses. I would fly the first few lessons with them, do the tail-wheel sign off in a Maule. Then in the Citabria and/or Super Decathlon basic maneuvers and spins, loops and rolls. Flying was starting to be fun again. I was thinking about air shows, about competing in them, thought about buying a Pitts or Christian Eagle, but financially I could not swing it.
The airlines, even the not quite top of the line commuters I had flown for, were far to structured for my taste. I hated wearing the shirt/tie/jacket/eppulates/and gold wings. I called it my “space suit.”
The pilots I had always admired were the old mail pilots of the 20’s 30’s and 40’s. Many of them were WWI fighter pilots, and in fact, many of the early mail planes were surplus Jenny’s. I remember a story told of a certain airport in the mountains that was almost always covered in a low overcast early in the morning. There were no instrument approaches in them days, and the mountains made it impossible to get in under the clouds. There was a NDB (non-directional beacon) right at the field though, and the mail pilots would approach the NDB from altitude, then when directly overhead, stall and spin down through the overcast which often was only a few hundred feet AGL. (Above ground level) Perhaps I was born 50 years too late.
In South Florida, many of the Airports are former WWII training bases. Fort Lauderdale International is where Former president George Bush did some training in an Avenger. Hollywood North Perry, about 10 miles away is another. Opa Locka, a little farther south and West was also a WWII training field, and is where Amelia Earheart touched the soil of the USA for the last time.
My last flying job was off Opa Locka flying air ambulance. That company had a Seneca II, a couple King-Airs and a Citation. I was hired to fly the Seneca, and often times I would just go hang out at the airport like I did in my old Flight Instructor days. That company also flew Part 135 charters, so it paid me to be there and available at short notice. I had flown a couple “Life Flight” flights. They were non-critical flights, mostly older people going from a hospital up to Orlando or Tampa, or coming back to the Miami area.
One night I was watching TV in the operations building when the dispatcher hollered out he had a “Life Guard” flight if I wanted it. Life Guard is a critical flight, a life or lives are at stake, unlike a “Life Flight” flight. Asking if I wanted it was strange, but I soon found out why. This was summer in South Florida, home to numerous level 4 and 5 thunder storms almost every night. There had been a stabbing out in a small town in the Everglades. The Air Rescue helicopters could not even get off the ground in Naples or Fort Meyers because there were some very serious storms all up and down the west coast. On the East coast the weather was much better, and for most of the flight over the conditions would also be pretty good.
I was ready to go in a few minutes, and as the Med Tech approached the plane, I was starting the engines. There was an uncontrolled, unlit airport near where the stabbing had occurred, and the local police or sheriff was going to be there to meet us. The police also had a radio that could communicate on the multi-com frequency (122.9 ) that some uncontrolled airports, and crop dusters use, so I could be in contact with them enroute.
I was talking to Miami approach, and receiving vectors to a small town near the airport. They advised heavy weather to the South West moving North East quite rapidly, with imbedded level 4 and 5 thunderstorms. Without actually saying it, they were telling me if I was going to get in and out of there, I had better be quick about it. About 20 miles out I started to hit heavy rain, although conditions were still marginal VFR. By that time I could also talk to the police who were waiting for us, and I was advised to fly to the town, turn due south and follow a road about 3 miles to the airport. I remember the officer saying that just before the airport, the road jogged left, and the runway would look like the road running straight….I guess he thought I could see a lot better than was possible under the conditions at the time. I was down to the minimum safe altitude for that area, and maybe even a little less, 1500 AGL. The police advised heavy rain and strong, gusty winds at the field. He said his police car would be at the near end of the runway with headlights pointing down the runway and flashers going, another truck would be at the far end of the runway, with the headlights pointing towards me. By the time I reached the town, I was at about 900 feet and in heavy rain, I was still well below any clouds, but visibility was very poor. I found the road I was to follow with no problem and dropped a little lower. The rain was still heavy, and turbulence was getting quite bad. A long time seemed to pass, but I finally saw the flashing lights of the police car only about a quarter mile in front. I already had the gear down and 20 degrees of flaps out, all I dared use, so all I had to do was land in what seemed a bottomless pit, I never did really see the runway, just a glimpse or two of the white centerline markings.
Our patient was in the truck at the far end of the runway, and there were three people there I think that helped load him. In only a couple minutes we were ready to go, but by now, the wind was coming from all directions, the rain was heavy and the lightning and thunder almost constant. The Med Tech was strapping our patient down for departure and I asked him if he (the patient) had time to let the storm pass, he shook his head no. Words like wind shear and hydroplaning kept running through my head but I knew I was going to go. We took a pretty good beating, especially the Med Tech who did not get fully strapped in before takeoff, but we got out of there and I picked up a heading for Opa Locka. Within 30 or 40 miles, I was in smooth air and good VFR. At Opa Locka, our patient was transferred to an ambulance and transported to the hospital. He arrived there alive, with one serious stab wound in his chest, and several others to his face and arms.
That was my last flight with that company. Not long after, there was a problem with the Seneca and it was sold. I was offered right seat in either of the King-Airs or the Citation, but I declined.
My last logged flight was a few weeks later in a PA-23-150. An already multi-engine rated pilot had purchased an old Apache Twin and for insurance purposes I was giving him a check out. That flight was 1.2 hours on January 23, 1996, exactly 11 years ago today.
Twelve years three months and twenty-one days passed between that first flight as a student pilot and my last flight (Last flight to date anyway) as an ATP with CFII and MEI ratings. In that time I logged a total of approximately 6,500 hours total time, about 4,500 of those hours in multi-engine aircraft and about 1,600 hours as Instructor. I flew over 50 different makes and models of single engine, and over 20 different makes and models of multi-engine aircraft. The least time in a make and model was 4/10’s of an hour on a ferry flight in a Twin Bonanza, or T-Bone, and the most would be close to 2000 hours in C-402 C-models. As I write this, I do not have my log books available but I know those numbers are very close.
What do I wish would have happened, what do I wish I could have done? The answer might surprise some, but here goes. Given a choice of any aircraft that was ever made to fly a few hours in, my first choice, without the slightest hesitation, would be one of the later versions of the A6M, or, as it is better known, the Japanese Zero of WWII fame. Following in second place would be the German fighters of the same time, the American P-38 and then any other of the WWII fighters. Realistically though, chances of flying aircraft like that are almost non-existent.
The DC-3 and Beech 18 were two older aircraft I would have jumped at the chance to fly, along with the more modern Lear 24 or 25 and the MU-2.
I had lusted after a job with one of the 707/DC-8 freight carriers, even had a friend and former student who got on with one because his father was a senior pilot there. The father tried to get me an interview, but my uncorrected eye sight was so bad the company would not consider me. That would have been a great job for a few years, even if I would have had to wear a space suit again.
In the last 11 years I have thought many times of what might have been, but I have no regrets. I know I would not have been happy for long flying crew airplanes, even the single pilot flying I was doing for the airlines was starting to irritate me. The space suits and GQ, clean cut looks are not for me on an everyday basis.
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