I would use different words and quote different situations, but I could not
improve
on the comments by Jay & BT. Well said, gentlemen. To this day, I can't look
at a missing man formation with dry eyes. Jay, My heart felt condolences for
all.

Lots of people get killed every year, but that doesn't hurt as much as
someone you really care for. You care for them for a reason, because of what
they are, what they care about, and what they stand for. They are what they
are partially because of what they do.

Sure, we're still crazy after all these years.

Al G


"BT" wrote in message
...
Jay, My heart felt condolences for all.
I've been flying over 32 years... 20 years in the Air Force in some pretty
fast jets on dark nights, bad weather and close to the ground. I've lost
friends to stupid pilots... or just dumb accidents when you hit a 25 pound
brown pelican at 540knts.

You can say, that your friend LIVED A LIFE, living it to the FULLEST.

Could you say the same thing if he was wrapped up in cotton batting and
never left the house? Afraid of what was around the corner?

I've lost friends from falling off a roof retrieving a Frisbee when he was
playing in the yard with his kids.
I've lost friends to motorcycle accidents, getting hit by stupid drivers
through no fault of their own.
I've lost friends to car accidents, getting hit by drunk drivers.

Short version.
A story I tell often, you never know when it's your turn, and when it is
your turn, you cannot avoid it. You have to live life.

A friend was scheduled to be on a certain KC-135, but was sick with a cold
and did not make the flight, another squadron member took his spot and the
sick friend headed home. Another friend was heading into the squadron, saw
the one car coming his way, remembered something he had forgotten to bring
from home and turned around. He watched the KC-135 crash in his mirror, an
engine taking out the car of the one who did not get on board.

If he had not turned around, he would have been in the same spot getting
hit by the -135. It was not his turn.
The friend who was going home sick, it was his turn, and not getting on
the -135 did not change it.

We are neither crazy nor stupid, we train, we practice, we watch the
weather and we put our training to work.
We enjoy life. Life is to be lived, to the fullest that we can.

I've told my friends, and I've told my only child. You cannot be afraid of
tomorrow, go out, live, if you want to do something, fly, water ski, scuba
dive, mountain climbing, what ever, learn all that you can about it.
Enough people have done it before you and written great books and there
are great teachers, use their experience and knowledge and build your own
experiences and you can teach others.

You cannot have a life, if you never leave home.

BT

"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
ups.com...
I just returned from one of the hardest evenings of my life. Mary, my
kids, and I just attended the visitation for Blane Anderson, our
friend and fellow pilot who lost his life in the crash of a Spencer
Air Car (and amphibious homebuilt craft) last Friday, just west of
Iowa City. He was less than 20 minutes from home when his plane went
down, hard.

No cause has yet been determined, and the local aviation community is
freaking out about this seemingly inexplicable accident, and the death
of arguably our finest local pilot. Chief pilot of the FBO, CFII,
home-builder, tail-dragger, multi-engine, turbine -- you name it,
Blane flew it. Everyone who flew with him said he was a great stick.
And he had learned to fly in a Pietenpol, which is to say that he
*really* knew how to fly.

At age 34, Blane left so much on the table. A beautiful, young wife;
twin 5-years olds; a 2-year old. There were his parents, and grand-
parents, standing before his open casket, numbly greeting grieving
friends and relatives for well over five hours. The line stretched
out the door for hours on end, in sub-zero temperatures. No one
complained, and no one left.

Every pilot I know was there. We all feel and fear the same thing,
without saying a word. The thought on everyone's mind is simple: "If
this could happen to Blane, it could happen to any one of us." We
look at the grieving widow, and the crying children, and the body in
the casket, and realize that what we are doing for fun is terribly,
inescapably dangerous, and can claim any of us at any time.

We all are left to silently wonder -- are we crazy, or are we just
stupid? Is this irresistable call to the sky that we answer going to
be our swan song? Are we just being selfish, putting our kids at
terrible risk every time we strap them into the back seat?

Are the naysayers about general aviation *right*? Do we have any
right to risk ourselves and others for what amounts to a hobby?

I don't know. I've followed the call of aviation as far as I can, and
reaped benefits from it that few have enjoyed. I've slipped the surly
bonds of earth a thousand times, and have never felt closer to God or
more free then when I am flying.

But when I introduced my family to Blane's mom, all she could say,
with an intensity that can be brought about only through death, was
"Hold on to your children...as tightly as you can." And then she
wouldn't let my hands go, as her tear-filled eyes met mine...
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"