Look! An Airplane

The Flying Dutchman has been at it again! I'd finally had enough of being stuck to the ground, so I scheduled another intro flying lesson at the Auburn airport. (I had already taken two one-time introductory flying lessons.) But I was getting desperate. Finding a good excuse to spend the money turn up in a grade report from W.A., I headed down to the airport with my two sisters and a friend.

Arriving at the Auburn Municipal Airport, a small airport stuffed full of private airplanes, I led my companions along to the flying school and let myself soak in the experience. I met my instructor - the third I've had - and let him pore over the whole 1.3 hours of flight time recorded in my logbook. I asked him the fateful question.

"Could we work on patterns today?" I queried.

"Sure. We'll go down to Lincoln to practice takeoffs and landings because it has a longer runway and less tricky winds," he replied, apparently unphased about letting a kid with almost no flight time try to land a plane with him in it. I beamed and off we went to preflight the Piper Warrior and get airborne. Peter, my sister's friend climbed in the back seat to take video. Several minutes later, the Hobbs meter (a sort of mileage counter that adds up minutes instead of miles) was running and we were in the air.

After I took the plane off, I followed my instructor's directions to the Lincoln airport. As we got close, Dennis my instructor took the controls and did one touch-and-go to show me how it was supposed to look like. Then, putting his hands in his lap he gave me control of the plane.

"Now it's your turn." Peter, you have no idea what kind of a ride you're in for. And you'd better be recording! Flying downwind, I followed the instructions Dennis gave me and began preparing the plane for landing. Throttle back. A notch of flaps. Turn to the base leg.

"Keep the nose down so the airspeed doesn't drop." Forward on the yoke. Another notch of flaps. Turning on final, the beautiful sight of the runway came in front of me. Last notch of flaps.

Moving the controls back and forth, I tried to keep the plane aligned with the runway as breezes shifted my plane back and forth. Another hundred feet to go. Dennis came on the intercom again, telling me just what to do to put the plane on the ground smoothly.

"Start looking at the end of the runway now and level off. Now pull the throttle out." I flew several feet above the runway and let the engine idle. Hold it off, hold it off. Thump! I had landed a plane for the first time.

"Good. Now steer back to the centerline and we'll take off again." Three landings later I was taxiing back to the ramp at Auburn Municipal. After refueling the plane and letting poor Peter back into the fresh air, we walked back to the flying school. I presented my prized logbook to Dennis and I watched happily as he jotted down the figures: climbs, descents, turns, pattern work, 4 takeoffs and landings, . . . 1.0 hour. He signed the entry, and handing it back to me he remarked, "You have a natural aptitude for flying. Not many students are out there doing touch-and-gos on their third lesson!"

Those words put a perfect end to a perfect day of flying. It's still awhile until I earn my wings, but a lesson here and there makes the wait much more endurable. This is the Flying Dutchman descending for landing on his bed. Goodnight.

To Meet Once More

I am a natural pack-rat, saving each and every item that I "might need" later on. Recently I was going through my letter collection in an effort to free up some more closet space. Opening the box, I began wading through mementos dating all the way back to my eighth birthday. This was my second time through the box and I was having a lot more success. Envelopes, cards that only had the sender's signature in them, and old subscription offers from Plane & Pilot magazine - all found themselves in the waste basket.

As I opened one particular christmassy card, I noticed the signature on the bottom. The card was from my first boss, a kind lady who had offered my friend and I a job after seeing our ad for trash hauling. Starting when I was about eleven, my Stephan and I weeded her yard, took out her trash, and made fresh vegetable juice each morning. She was always fond of us and though we were paid by the hour, she never failed to through in a bonus at the end of each week.

Then her visits to Rhode Island grew longer and finally I found out she was leaving for good. My boss was dying of cancer. One last stay and then she left, this time taking her cat. Several months later she died.

As I glanced over the card, remembering the fun times Stephan and I had working for our boss, the first sentence in the message jumped out at me. Hope to see you again quite soon! The words, written to let me know she was coming to visit, suddenly took on a deeper meaning. Jesus is coming soon. Sin and suffering don’t have much time left to do their damage and soon Christ will return. We will be reunited with loved ones and friends and this time it will be for good.

In that moment, the greatest event in the universe’s history seemed so near. God wants us to remember that our time here is really short. His words blend with my boss’s words as they echo the hope-filled reassurance, Hope to see you again quite soon!

Here We Go!

When school has ended, and the textbooks have been turned in, and the loads of graded homework burned, must the writing stop? The prudent will learn at least one thing from school – skills acquired and honed during the educational process are meant for life after school. It is my pleasure to inform you that what you are reading is now my very own blog. Summer has arrived, English class is done, and you won’t be seeing a funny little number in parenthesis at the end of each post title. My goal is to keep it updated. Nice idea isn’t it. Feel free to post a reminder comment if I forget to write. As I always say, “An old blog is a boring blog.” Keep your eyes peeled – The Flying Dutchman isn’t gone yet!