Category Archives: Flying

I’ve mentioned that I get to be around some amazing planes in my volunteer position at the Southern California Wing of the Commemorative Air Force, and sometimes I even get to fly in some of our historic planes. In addition to all of that, sometimes I get to meet some fantastic, legendary folks. Yesterday was one of those days.

At lunch yesterday we had a collection of aviation pioneers and legends visiting us.

From left to right, Ci Robin, Clay Lacy, David Price, and Bob Hoover. (If you have any idea who these guys are, especially Bob Hoover, then you know that I was about to explode from pent up SQUEEEEEE!)

For those of you who don’t know, Ci Robin’s company makes about 99% of the antennas that go into any aircraft except those built in Russia. He is a generous benefactor and friend of the CAF SoCal Wing – without him, those two new hangars wouldn’t be there.

Clay Lacy is a legend in Southern California aviation, being the first to bring a Lear Jet to the West Coast in the 1960s, one of the giants that built Van Nuys Airport into what it is today, and also a long-time friend and benefactor or ours. If you’ve seen the fantastic documentary “One Six Right,” you’ll have seen plenty of Clay in there. (If you haven’t seen “One Six Right,” go and do so right now – we’ll wait for you here.)

David Price is a multi-talented pilot and friend of our Wing, as well as one of the founders of the prestigious Oaks Christian High School in Westlake Village, California. (There are, or very recently were, kids there named Gretzky and Montana, for example, as in Wayne’s kid and Joe’s kid.)

Bob Hoover – I don’t even know where to start. A truly legendary WWII fighter pilot, test pilot, and airshow performer for decades, he was probably the greatest stick-and-rudder pilot ever. He could do things with a plane that others still can’t believe could be done. You know how I’ve squeeeed when I’ve met astronauts? Astronauts squeeee to meet Bob Hoover.

Bob might not be quite as spry at 94 as he used to be, but he’s still sharp as a whip and has a million stories to tell, all of them true.

Oh, yeah. sitting in with us and getting a chance to meet Ci, David, Clay, and Bob was a student helicopter pilot from a few hangars down, Vince Gilligan.

As Bob, David, and Vince were getting a tour of our facilities, Ci and Clay found a shady spot in front of our soon-to-be-flying-again PBJ.

Is that a cool way to spend a Saturday at the hangar, or what?! On the other hand, I might not have gotten as much paperwork done as I needed to…

Our CAF hangar & museum is closed on Mondays. I was there today because our annual audit was starting with folks flying in from our headquarters in Texas. There were a half dozen others there during the day, taking care of this task or that, but for the most part we had it to ourselves. After the auditors left at 17:00, jet lagged, looking for dinner and a horizontal soft place, I spent a few minutes walking around to lock up.

Since starting the day job at Habitat for Humanity, there have been several times when I’ve found myself the last one and/or the only one in the hangar. A couple of these times I’ve gotten a really strong, emotional feeling about the experience. All of the other times it’s been dark and a bit spooky, but tonight it was just quiet and I finally recognized it when it hit me again.

I was alone in a hangar with a PT-19, an SNJ-5, an F8-F Bearcat, an F6-F Hellcat, and a P-51 Mustang. Except for the creaking of the hangar in the wind (and it was windy!) it was quiet. By being a CAF member, a SoCal Wing member, and a staff member I was here with actual, honest-to-God, flying airplanes which were the ones which I had dreamed of and fantasized about when I was a kid. I could touch them, smell them, watch them drip oil (if they’re not dripping oil they’re probably out of oil…), and look at them as closely as I wanted.

I had been up flying in three of these planes. Because I’m also a pilot, once I get current again after my long layoff from the left seat, I can start looking at training to actually fly some of these planes myself, both solo and carrying passengers. It’s a stretch, but it’s not completely outside the realm of possibility that I could someday fly a Bearcat, Hellcat, Zero, B-25, Spitfire, or Mustang.

That feeling? It was the ten-year-old inside of me letting me know that this was really, really freakin’ cool, and I needed to remember that more often. This was the message from the past that said that I have made many of my dreams come true.

There are now other dreams, bigger dreams – but none of that diminishes the dreams of the ten-year-old who can now touch that Bearcat, fly in that P-51, or learn to fly that PT-19.

It’s a sense of wonder, realized.

While looking at the pretty lights around the runway and taxiways at night, it’s often good to turn around and look behind you.

The full moon, remnants of the day’s clouds, more runway lights, and a plane that should be flying again.

I mentioned that I was at the hangar late last night. One of the things I think is marvelous and beautiful is the sight of an airport at night.

There are different colored lights everywhere, indicating different things. Unlike an urban neighborhood, which might be just a half-mile or so away, there typically aren’t any street lights or the like, so it’s one of the darker places you’ll find in the average city. This means that you can see the stars better. With planes moving about with their own strobe lights on, there’s quite a difference between the dark all around and the brightly colored pinpoints of light – blue, green, red, yellow, white. Sort of like the sky above, but a bit more bright and colorful to the naked eye.