The Hare Krishna purveyors were in many airports in those days seeking converts.?ÿ Old National Airport in D.C. had the highest density of anywhere I traveled in the mid to late 70's.
My senior year in Waco, a few of us flew in a prop plane to DFW then a jet (727 maybe?) to Houston to interview for Houston Light and Power. Then flew back the next day. We could have drove it in about the same amount of time but why drive when you can fly at someone else's expense.
My first exposure to a big airport, I delivered square baled hay a few times each year to Houston Intercontinental Airport my Junior and Senior year of high school. School went to noon and we worked the rest of the day on a coop program. We found a parking garage where we could watch planes take off and land but we had to park the trailer on the sidewalk outside.
The airport would sometimes get exotic cattle or other animals with very short notice and I think they had to quarantine them. We would get a call and have to be there (110 miles south) the next day. We would put three bales on a dolly and wheel them down a dark alleyway of the stables. One day there was a huge bull in a 1x4 crate sitting in the alleyway. I snuck by it a quietly as I could and put the three bales in the stall they used for storage. On the way out, my eyes had adjusted to the darkness better and I figured out it was a plaster bull. Made me feel like an idiot but I couldn't stop laughing about it.
I was flown Chicago to Vancouver, B.C. when I was about 4 years old (1964). I have only the most fleeting memories of the trip. If it weren't for some photographs I probably wouldn't remember at all. Not sure what kind of plane it was, but I don't think that it was a jet. Probably a Constellation.
I had numerous flights in helicopters prior to getting into surveying. Mining Exploration business in British Columbia, early to mid 1980's. No one was shooting at us, but the pilots all seemed to think they might so they insisted on flying at top speed just a few feet above the tree tops. Good times.
Flew a lot in the '70s.?ÿ Dad had a Cessna 182.?ÿ My favorites were Turbo Beaver float planes, Twin Otters, Dash-8s and JetRanger helicopters.?ÿ A few years ago I flew in a Pilatus PC-12, very nice modern airplane.
But my most memorable flight never left the ground. A jarhead buddy gave me a guest ride in the most sophisticated simulator in the Marine Corps, if not in all the services, at El Toro. The 24 million dollar simulator has its own building that includes two life-size F/A-18D cockpits that sit on pedestals under 40-foot-diameter domes. The domes are really screens that flash laser generated pictures of moving terrain, sky, water or an occasional enemy aircraft that fly by so fast they are hard to see.?ÿ The cockpits never move, but the scenery does, giving the illusion of flying. T-Dog told me if I threw up he'd have to clean it up so if I got queasy just close my eyes and the illusion would disappear.
We did his duty flight from Miramar to Ft. Irwin, rather boring except for the horrendous sandstorm on approach @ Ft. Irwin.?ÿ Then he gave me thrill ride through the Grand Canyon.?ÿ He had some time left over so I got in the other simulator, was given brief front seat instructions, unlimited fuel and weaponry and we engaged in a dogfight. I was killed a dozen times, although T-Dog complimented me on doing a high speed yo yo defensive maneuver without having a clue.
Growing up in AK, I was in a plane earlier than my memories. I was always amazed to find people in the lower 48 that had never been on a plane, didn't like flying, or freaked out about being on a small one.
Lived in an 8-unit apartment building many years ago with a wonderful couple living directly above us.?ÿ They were around 60 at the time and the wife had never flown in her life.?ÿ She loved her kids and grandkids to death but one daughter had moved from Michigan to Atlanta.?ÿ A new grandchild had been born so she desperately wanted to visit.?ÿ The daughter sent her tickets to fly down and back.?ÿ She was terrified.?ÿ She knew she would die on the flight.?ÿ No amount of information about the safety measures and the statistics could overcome her deep-seated fear.?ÿ Upon being seated on the big jet she closed her eyes and began praying non-stop.?ÿ A few minutes passed and she opened her eyes to discover they were at about 30,000 feet.?ÿ A calming peace embraced her and she was cured.?ÿ She switched seats to be by the window so she could watch the world passing by.
I believe around 1971-72 summer, my folks put my brother and I on a UAL flight, Redmond, OR to Bangor, ME to visit my grandparents. Viet Nam era, lots of personnel on leave partying it up, booze and smoking so thick you couldn't breath, DC8 equipment I believe, made a memory for this young teenager. Helicopter, 1990, Robinson R22.
...No amount of information about the safety measures and the statistics could overcome her deep-seated fear...
I can relate.?ÿ At the risk of being too candid I will admit I suffer from paralyzing acrophobia (fear of heights).?ÿ I fainted about 15' onto the Royal Gorge Bridge. I have to close my eyes in an elevator so I don't see what floor I'm on.?ÿ Once I'm on a lofty floor (anything over 4 stories) I cannot, under any circumstances, go near a window.?ÿ Windows that go all the way to the floor are particularly terrifying.?ÿ Ferris wheels are forbidden on my life-alert bracelet. 😉
I know all the rhetoric and how illogical it is, but it's a deep-seated primal reaction that produces trembling knees and panic-induced reactions.?ÿ But here's the kicker:?ÿ flying in an airplane doesn't bother me a bit.?ÿ Love it.?ÿ I've had a student pilot rating and logged several solo hours.
I guess if I had the money I could get some bone head with a degree to come up with some cockamamie blather to explain it all.?ÿ But I'd rather not.?ÿ I just deal with it.?ÿ?ÿ
deep-seated primal reaction that produces trembling knees
I just have to have something the looks like it will keep me from falling. Not just a pipe railing, but more than that. A window in a solid wall is okay. Even an elevator with a glass side is okay if I feel enclosed by it.
But at the Grand Canyon I could not walk out to the lookout points without a railing to hang onto every step of the way. My knees wanted to buckle if my wife wasn't holding on. I had to walk on the side of the paths furthest from the edge.
And, yeah, airplanes are different because I'm sitting inside an enclosure.
A few years ago we were at Royal Gorge.?ÿ The wife would not step foot on the bridge, even the part that is clearly above solid ground.?ÿ I went all the way to the center taking pictures over the edge at numerous points.?ÿ I did not volunteer for the opportunity to be shot out over the gorge in some sort of sling shot/bungee cord/chair contraption.?ÿ That would have been too much for even me.
So I guess that a parachute jump isn't on your bucket list ?????ÿ
I think that everyone should try it at least once.
Anybody can jump once. It's the second jump that takes a bit of courage...
No jumping out of a perfectly good airplane for me.?ÿ?ÿ
I don't remember my first flight but suspect it was in the early 70s so five or six, flying from Columbus, Ohio to Albuquerque. My family almost always drove on vacation but that year Dad took off in the car and my Mom and I met him. At that point, it was a small airport and you took the stairs to the tarmac and entered the terminal that way. When I flew to Ontario, CA to interview with Esri in 1994, it was the same way. It was so quick to get to the baggage claim and to the gates.
I vaguely remember flying in a glider tow plane (too young to be in the glider itself) but I think that was later.
DC-3 in the 1960's with Dad, who was an un-godly shade of green when we landed. I learned later in life that when he worked for Gulf Oil in the 1930's they had flown him from Texas to Bogota, Columbia in a Ford tri-motor. Then they took him into the interior in a single-engine plane with the engine not running right, and had to buzz the dirt strip several times to get the cows to move. I understood the green then...
yeah, i can relate KWI AMS DTW DEN then a 3 hour layover to ABQ...that is a brutal junket to be sure...... no bragging right worth the 56hrs of no way to sleep.....took weeks to recover.
I remember Flying at 4, and loved the brightly colored Braniff planes...I was terroized by the rear ramp load and unload occassionally in their 727s( later inlife dated a woman whose Dad was one of their 747 pilots...small world),?ÿ with Texas Air and their Red White and Blue Tail single star DC-9s, and then Continental DC-10s, United etc.....
First real Flight: june 1981, 1941 Piper j-3 sitting front seat due to the CG issue of my small mass and the pilot being more massive, doors open, even got to fly the stick aloft.?ÿ Still chasing that goal too, much like the PLS, life got into its own pattern and created a more thorough and definitely deeper detailed path prior to completion.
