On Fri, 13 Feb 2004 17:15:08 GMT, EDR wrote:


Reading Rich Bach's book, "THE GIFT OF WINGS".
I had been skydiving for eight years and was tired of just going up and
down. I was 26, single, had the time, had the money, so I did it.

It's a bit deeper than "so I did it" for me: I feel like flying is
something I'm supposed to do, like it's my purpose in life. You
wouldn't know that by how I went about learning to fly though, or by
what I'm doing now.

My father flew for the Navy during WWII. He had a masters degree from
the Warton School in business which he earned after the war. He felt
he should put it to use so he worked at a bank for a while. But he
found that every time an airplane flew over he was rushing to the
window to watch it. He quit and began flying again, eventually
becoming the chief pilot for a can manufacturing business locating in
north Philadelphia. In a way he served as the prototype for me and
flying. Maybe it's in the genes.

My absolute earliest memory is sitting in my mother's arms in an
airplane and watching the props begin to turn and the smoke billowing
back over the wing. We were flying out to Washington, Widbey Island
Washington where my father's patrol squadron was based during the
Korean War.

I was also taken up in a Piper Cub as a boy. In my dreams as a boy, I
often dreamed of being able to fly like Peter Pan. The dreams seemed
incredibly real.

I began taking flying lessons at age 15.5 and continued them off and
on till I graduated from Highschool. I had about 25 hours at that
point.

Then college, marriage, children and no money for something like
flying lessons. More than 20 years went by. Then I heard about a guy
putting together a biplane in his garage nearby. I called him out of
the blue and drove over that night to help. The long suppresed desire
woke up, but I finished what I started in a kind of round-a-bout
manner. First I bought the plans for an airplane and began building
it. Still had no money for flying lessons. Then my parents passed
away and suddenly, after all these years, it looked like there might
just be enough money to finish the flying lessons. I thought that at
least I should try, otherwise building the airplane made no sense.

The flight school very generously accepted the earlier logged time and
some 40 additional hours later I passed the flight exam and became a
private pilot at the age of 55.

I don't fly for a living, but I feel like flying is what I do to stay
alive.

Corky Scott