As a flight instructor he was once up with a student when part of the propeller fell off.
He took over the controls, found an orange grove, and managed to bounce “softly” from tree to tree.
Both walked away from the crash.
He signed and dated a piece of the wrecked plane.
With such genetics I should have followed in his wings, right?
Actually, I toyed with the idea. Even tried (in 1967) to join the Air Force (mostly to stay out of the Army) but they said because I wore glasses I would never sit in the front seat of a fighter jet.
Then there was the other problem: the Dream. I kept seeing myself on my maiden voyage and the view was always upside down, like this…
What if I pulled out of a dive at the last minute to the applause of thousands and didn’t end up in a body bag after all?
Still time, do you think, for me to take flying lessons?
🙂 🙂 🙂