Up in the air

When I was a young lad I joined the Boy Scouts as many often do. However I was never satisfied with the unruly, haphazard approach to learning anything useful through the scouts. Besides, the troop was organized through the church where our family worshiped. I was already an altar boy, attended catechism and I was not interested in any more religious connections in my life. One day a friend of mine mentioned the Civil Air Patrol, (a civilian auxiliary of the Air Force). It was for kids 13 to 18; we got to learn military discipline, leadership, wear cool Air Force uniforms and best of all, learned how to fly. Even better, it was co-ed; there were lots of very lovely young girls. Through the CAP I eventually worked my way up the ranks from airman to cadet major, where I learned that being an officer is much better then being one of the grunts. (Which explains why I never really wanted to join the military as a career, I would never make officer rank there.) But flying was a revelation, the pure freedom of leaving the earth, (which is very odd because I have a fear of earthbound heights), was a truly amazing feeling. Flying offered a different perspective on life, the universe and everything. When I reached 18 and went away to college, I reluctantly gave up the CAP and I almost never flew again in light aircraft. Flying in a large jet is not flying, it is a bus ride and about as boring.

So when my lovely wife, Lynne, bought for me a ride in 1942 Stearman (Boeing) Model 75 recently, I got very excited. The Stearman was used to train thousands of pilots during WWII. It was a two-seater, open cockpit biplane that was very easy to train in and fly and many a fighter or bomber pilot got his first experience in the air via a Stearman. The instructor would sit in the back seat and the trainee would sit in the front. The Stearman has a left and right rudder pedal and a rudimentary stick in the middle. Push the stick forward and the plane goes down, pull it back and it goes up. Push it to the left and the plane will turn left, push it right and there you go. Push it right or left while stepping on the rudder pedals and you turn much faster. As I am an amateur World War II historian, the ride was additionally a wonderful dream come true. We flew in a Naval version of the aircraft with the appropriate markings. Since my father was involved in naval aviation operations during WWII it was quite satisfying to also honor his military experience. The half-hour flight, (slightly longer since we were part of an honor flight operation for a recently deceased local pilot), was wonderfully liberating and I regained that different perspective on things once again. In the middle of the flight, when the pilot told me to take the stick, I didn’t hesitate. Being in control of that aircraft made for flight, was a highlight in a year that has held few really fun things for me.