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Wall of Honor Level:
Air and Space Friend

Honored by:
Sally Odonnell

Nearly everything has changed or vanished at the places where I flew and worked from 1955 to 2013. I started flying with USAF Class 56-U at Hondo AB, followed by Webb and Perrin AFB's, finishing in 1957. Thereafter, I flew from Selfridge AFB, Youngstown Muni., Dallas NAS, Grand Prairie Muni., Kelly AFB, Ontario Intl., Kerrville Muni., Soesterberg AB (Netherlands), Jacksonville Intl., Vero Beach Muni., Sunflower Gpt., finishing at Beech Field in Wichita, KS.

Although my flying career lasted 58 years, it lacked drama. I was never shot at and never fired a shot in anger. I had no accidents or flying violations, and never bailed out. The USAF/ANG cycled me through three service numbers (29585A, 3027180, and the third my SSN) but the FAA made do with just one (1382744). I logged a total of 7,345 flying hours, of which 2,966 were military, 853 were in gliders, 707 were in two-engined airplanes, and 1,205 were hours when I was instructing. I flew 75 different airplane types, of which 26 were Pipers, 11 were gliders, nine were military, eight were Beechcrafts, six were Cessnas, and five were Mooneys. The most hours by far in a single type were the 1,591 in the Convair F-102A, which I flew at Kelly (182nd), Ontario (196th), Soesterberg (32nd), and Jacksonville (159th). Aside from the four years in the full-time USAF I never relied on flying for income, but the part-time ANG pay helped cover the taxes. I didn?€™t fly helicopters, balloons, or turboprops. My only flight testing was at Piper, and I never worked as an engineering consultant or expert witness. I never made a cross-country flight in a glider, and my only airshow appearance was a JATO takeoff in a T-33 at Youngstown. I never succumbed to the lure of airplane ownership.

I stopped flying as a pilot in Oct. 2013 due to fatigue associated with flight instruction; it was the second time I had stopped flying due to fatigue. In 1976 I had completed my 20th "good year" with the ANG and retired, as the recovery time from flying at JAX while commuting from VRB had lengthened to two days. Years later, I recognized the same loss of stamina and slow recovery from flight instruction, accompanied by drowsiness on the drive home. Fear wasn?€™t a factor. Over the years I did sometimes decide not to fly a particular airplane, but it was always due to something specific, not just some sense of foreboding about flying that day.

So what is left? I gave my flying gear to a previous student who expressed an interest in becoming an instructor. The two other family members who were pilots have passed away. Some flying suits and a USAF blue uniform hang in a downstairs closet. My six logbooks are shelved somewhere. My various FAA pilot certificates have disappeared.

By and by a cloud will take all away. All that was once so busy, so vital, is now gone, all gone, never to return.