How It All Began

How It All Began

Flying. Something for birds and boys, right? That’s what my parents’ world had me think. (Daddy was the flyer…. We were nee the Army Air Corps, then the US Air Force.)  I believed that – until one day, way into my own grown-up life, somebody said “Naw, we don’t do...
Hey, it’s not a rocket!

Hey, it’s not a rocket!

He became my all-knowing god, my flight instructor. He was a scrawny-legged, pot-bellied, baggy-eyed, beyond middle-aged smoker.  But total trust is needed, you see, to teeter around the skies in a little trainer.  I had to believe he would not let me plummet and die,...