What's your "I've always wanted to fly" story?

[Hal Bryan]

As we've been talking about the launch of the new Eagle Flights program, a lot of us with differing aviation backgrounds have found ourselves swapping stories about how we'd "always wanted to fly" and what it took to get us to that first flight.

For me, I took my first airplane ride when I was 6 months old, and started holding the wheel of the family "Bamboo Bomber" when I was 4. My dad was a pilot for United from DC-3s to 747s, and I lived on a private airstrip from age 8 - 18. I've always been one of the stupidly lucky ones - for all practical purposes, there never was a time in my life when I'd wanted to fly, but hadn't yet.

But what about you? How many of you grew up with flight? And how many more of you had to find your own way - and how did you get there?

[Strutz]

When I was a kid, all I could think about was airplanes. Model airplanes. Movies. Soloed at 16, but then went to college and couldn’t afford to fly during my student days. In my early 30s my wife got me an intro flight as a birthday joke gift. Six months later I had my private pilot certificate and a Cherokee 180. She had no idea what she had started that day!”

[Chad Jensen]

Mine is an "I always knew I would fly" story, but want was the driving factor. My mom and dad both took flying lessons in the 70's (in a Tomahawk!), but neither of them finished because I came along. My dad took me to the airport frequently as a kid, and my actual first memory that I can see clearly, is a ride in our friends Piper Seneca. An evening flight over the West Palm Beach skyline. He would take me to the airport nearly every weekend to watch the new Grumman's come out of the factory at Stuart at the time. As a kid I drew airplanes constantly and built many models; and finally when I transferred to Illinois State University, I got a job at the FBO, and began taking flight lessons in 1999.

[Joe LaMantia]

I did all those kid things with all kinds models, this started in 1950 at age 7, after a $2 Cub ride. I needed glasses by 14, and discovered that the military only wanted guys with 20/20 vision, my Mom was thrilled, and I was shattered. Thanks to a recruiting Sarge , I missed the draft and got into the Air Force Reserve in 1966. One year as a truck driver then managed to move into flying crew as a load master. I have over 500 hours of flight time logged in C-119G' s and C-130A's in about 4 years. Fast forward to 1988, I'm sitting on my patio in Hartland,WI watching all the homebuilts flying to OSH, when a B-24 flies over my house below 500 ft! I start buying flying magazines and drive up to EAA HQ in the spring of 89 to watch old biplanes fly around the pioneer patch. I become a member of EAA in 1990 after my first trip to AirVenture, then begin hanging around local airports, mainly Crites Field, Waukesha (UES). I finally decide to take the plunge by joining "Wisconsin Fox River Flyers", the former GE Flying Club, I solo Oct. 24th, 1992 and get my
"passed" checkride on May 10, 1993! I've been at it now for 18 years, my only regret is that I should have started sooner, it's a wonderful hobby and a healthy stress reliever!

Joe

[Wilfred]

When I was a boy in the late 30's there was a radio show (no tv yet) called, I believe, "Wings," that gave away a Piper Cub with a drawing. I always sent in a penny post card (yes, post cards were 1-cent then) and anxiously awaited the show every Friday evening, knowing that someday I would win the Cub. I had an advertising pamphlet from Piper with pictures of "my" airplane. It never happened but even now at 81+ years I vividly recall those nights waiting for my name to be called as a winner. Happy memories.

[MickYoumans]

As a child I always loved airplanes. *When I would go to stores with my Mother I would go see what kind of molded plastic or model airplanes they would have. *I even got one of the old gas airplanes that you flew on a string one Christmas. *It was such a pain to crank, but it was still fun until you got so dizzy from spinning in circles waiting for the engine to run out of gas. * When I was 15, one of our neighbors gave me a ride in their Cessna. *I was hooked and wanted to learn to fly. *I figured the only way I would be able to get into aviation would be through the Air Force. *I talked with a recruiter and they would sign you up for flight school, but would not guarantee your acceptance once in the service because of the physical and other tests you would have to pass. *I knew I had the aptitude and coordination, but since I was a skinny kid, I was afraid I might not pass the physical. *Instead I wound up going on to college and marrying a girl I met there. *My wife’s family owned airplanes and her brother continued to fuel my desire to fly when I would go flying with him. *He is currently a 777 pilot for American Airlines. *My wife’s uncle was the retired Adjutant General over the Georgia Air Force Guard and had flown a wide variety of military aircraft over his Air Force career. *He told me one night that if I bought a plane he would teach me how to fly it. *We found a Cessna 150 at a nearby airport and I was finally on my way. *I flew the 150 until we had our second child and were building a new house. *Since I could no longer get my family in the 150, I felt that the money I had in my airplane would be better spent on my house and family, so I sold the 150. *It was so sad seeing my airplane, that I loved, fly off in the distance for the last time. *My in-laws were kind enough to allow me to keep current in their plane. *My mother-in-law passed away two years ago and their planes were sold by the estate. *I started looking for an affordable four seater and wound up with the Piper Cherokee I’m currently flying. *As much as I love experimental aircraft, life has never afforded me the opportunity to be able to build one. *Since my time is limited I have to go the ‘spam can’ route. *I do have plans to refurbish my Cherokee’s interior and get her painted as time and money allows.*Funny side story: *My Dad never would fly with me. *He didn’t care much for planes. *He always kidded me saying the Bible says “And lo(w) I am with you always”. *The same neighbor I mentioned above that gave me my first plane ride, asked my father to go with him to a Braves baseball game. *At the time we lived in Macon which is about an hour south of the Braves stadium. * They would go to games on a fairly regular basis. *He didn’t bother to tell my Dad the game that night was in Houston Texas. *As they are headed up the interstate to Atlanta, our neighbor took the Atlanta airport exit. *At that point my father didn’t think too much about it since our neighbor owned a large plumbing company that did government contracts around the state. *He just figured they were swinging by the airport to pick up a package or check on something business related….that was until they were in the terminal getting their tickets punched. *At that point he knew he was had! *To my knowledge that was the only time my father ever flew. *Everyone in both families knew what was up except for my Dad. *We’ve had so many laughs over that through the years.

[MickYoumans]

Sorry about the asterics in my post. I cut the text from a word document on my iPad and pasted it here and it threw all those asterics in for some reason. I have no idea why.

[Anymouse]

As we've been talking about the launch of the new Eagle Flights program, a lot of us with differing aviation backgrounds have found ourselves swapping stories about how we'd "always wanted to fly" and what it took to get us to that first flight.

For me, I took my first airplane ride when I was 6 months old, and started holding the wheel of the family "Bamboo Bomber" when I was 4. My dad was a pilot for United from DC-3s to 747s, and I lived on a private airstrip from age 8 - 18. I've always been one of the stupidly lucky ones - for all practical purposes, there never was a time in my life when I'd wanted to fly, but hadn't yet.

But what about you? How many of you grew up with flight? And how many more of you had to find your own way - and how did you get there?

I have very few memories of my father, but most of those few memories involved flying with him when I was a toddler. Can't say that I grew up with flying though. My parents divorced when I extremely young (around 3) and I didn't see much of my father after that. For sure, I never flew in a small airplane again until I was 16. That's when I had my first flight lesson. I've never asked my mother, but I suspect that the first couple of flight lessons, and ground school, was pity since I had cheated death a few months earlier when I was it by a car while riding my bike. That little accident resulting in me spending two weeks in the hospital, a full quarter out of school, and life long limp that is most noticeable when I'm extremely tired. After the first two lessons, my flight training was financed by Dunkin' Donuts. Like most people, when I had the money, I flew. When I didn't, I worked.

Young Eagles wasn't even an glimmer of an idea at the time, but the Aviation Explorers was. It was through this organization that I got my initial flight training. I eventually got my private ticket many years later, but I think I can safely say that if it wasn't for the Explorers, I wouldn't be where I am today in aviation.

There's a lot more to my aviation story, but in a nutshell, that's how I got there.

[feedpro]

My "bug" got started when my business partner used his Cessna 170A to fly me to California to buy 1500 colonies of bees. We were flying the low freq range back then. This "bug" was fertilized when two cars come over the hill directly at me in 1964 and I took the ditch in my VW bug. Got out to calm down, when a plane flew over low. He did not have traffic up there, so immediately purchased a 51 Piper Tri Pacer ($3000) and started taking lessons so I could fly it for business. A half dozen airplanes later and many thousands of hours over the next 35 years flying strictly for business. Then I sold the business, rediscovered Oshkosh, now it is flying for fun and home building. A Sonex is flying and I am in the middle of building a Sport Copter gyro plane. Every airplane that I ever wanted to fly, I did, either buying it and selling a few months later, or because it was furnished by the FBO for me to use. This included a Comanche 400 and a Helio Courier. Such things are not possible for the average guy any more. Shame

[Frank Giger]

Like a lot of folks, it started with a model airplane - a Nieuport 17 that put as many permanent fingerprints in my imagination as I had had put on to it with glue. The smell of heavy leather, castor oil and gasoline were easy to summon as I held it up to the clouds in the backyard, the empty cockpit easily filled in the mind's eye.

I was always looking up at the sound of aircraft. For a few years we lived in Great Falls, Montana, and I became very sharp at finding the F-104 that was well in front of its roar

I've always kept my deepest desires as secret as I can manage; the first anyone knew I was interested in flight was the fateful day in fourth grade when a vision test revealed I needed glasses. I wept.

Still, I dove into theory of flight and the pioneer era. They didn't care about eyeglasses in those days; it was the two orbs attached to a man roughly three feet lower than the eyes that mattered more.

I would take my adventure in other ways by carrying a rifle and a radio, where they not only sponsored a young man's fancy for danger and travel, they rewarded it with special little wings and bits of cloth to wear and thought one better for it.

My comrades in arms quickly knew never to allow me a headset to speak with the crew of a helicopter. "You guys must be new or something; I thought we were going to fly low and fast" never failed to give the results I intended, heedless of what anyone else might have had for breakfast.

The personal computer grew from piles of parts to something useable, and with it flight simulations. If I couldn't fly an actual aircraft I could fly a virtual one! And then one could connect two of them via null modem cable and fly against a friend. And then one could connect via telephone through the computer and fly against many people.

MS Flight Simulator left me cold; too sterile and more akin to driving a bus with nagging rules to follow. Jets weren't fun, either - they're not so much aircraft as weapons platforms with systems to manage. I drew the line at WWII and preferred WWI with the introduction of the Red Baron series (and now Rise of Flight).

Loads of real pilots would tell me that I should get some training in real aircraft; I doubted that much translated over (I was wrong).

Finally I retired from the Army and took a year off to refurbish our house, repairing the damages that had proved that the surest way to negate the notion that all people are inherently good is to rent one's house out. Six months after that an amazing thing happened.

I had nothing to say.

Oh crap! It's unforgiveable to be boring, and a sure way of losing marital bliss, since I had sold my bride a bill of goods that included the words frustrating, infuriating, inscruitable, but never uninteresting. Hunting around the web I found the KC Dawn Patrol website and found that one can make their own aircraft for the price of a good used car.

And, in true karma wheel fashion, they're WWI replicas.

The wife was skeptical and relieved that I had found a new path of personal growth at forty-five that didn't involve a sports car and hair implants, but supported me.

So I became a pilot and am building a Nieuport 11.