My big brother, Glen, got me into flying. He had learned to fly and listening to him and hearing his excitement about it got me interested. He was about as close to a being a fanatic about flying as anyone I know. He loved it. I have him to thank for this exciting piece of my life.
Flying was probably one of the most exhilarating things I ever did. You have to fly an airplane to understand the thrill of it. There is certainly an adrenaline flow when you push those throttles forward, the plane rolls down the runway, you gently pull back on the control (stick!) and the plane lifts into the air. Suddenly the ground is no longer there and you’re in control of this machine that is literally sailing through the air like a giant bird. It is a sensation that is almost unexplainable. Then, you gain altitude and the people, and the cars, and the houses, everything, gets smaller and smaller and the higher you go the smaller they get. What a sight!
I took my first lessons at the Tri City Airport at Blountville, Tennessee. I had arranged with the Appalachian Flying Service that was based there to take the lessons in a PA-11 which was very similar to a J-3 Cub that was often used for training in those days. The PA-11 had two seats, which were tandem-style, that is, one behind the other - not side-by-side. It had a 65 horsepower Continental engine.
My first lesson was scary and exciting. I had laid awake many nights thinking about taking flying lessons. It was literally a dream that had come true. My instructor took me out for about 30 minutes, showed me how the controls worked and a few simple maneuvers. I have never forgotten one incident from that first lesson. In your beginning lessons an instructor will, on occasions, close the throttle, tell you that you have a dead engine and ask you where you are going to land. It was an important part of the training - how to deal with emergency situations.
Near the end of that first lesson, my instructor, sitting behind me, suddenly pull the throttle back to simulate a dead engine. He yelled to me that I had lost my engine and asked me where I was going to attempt to land. I was supposed to search the terrain in our immediate area for a possible landing spot - preferably a good flat farm field - that I would have a good chance of putting the airplane into (with a dead engine!) and walk away from. When the throttle was closed and I was told I had an emergency, I immediately looked for a landing spot. I looked out over the nose of the airplane and picked out a field that I thought I would be able to land it had it been a real emergency and told my instructor which field I had chosen.
He complimented me, saying, yes that he believed I could put the plane into that field, but he would much prefer the “airport” which was directly below us. I learned my first lesson. In an emergency, don’t look just in front of you for a possible landing site, but look below and behind you, too.
As I recall, back in those days (1953-1954), you only needed about 10-12 hours of instructor training before you “soloed”, that is, went out by yourself. You never knew when you were going to be cut loose. In my case, as I remember it, and I have a log book around somewhere to confirm it, but I soloed at about 10 hours - a little better than the average student I learned later (I was proud!).
I remember my solo very well. My instructor and I had been out practicing “touch and go’s” (landings and takeoffs) when he suddenly informed me that he needed to go to the bathroom and if I would stop near the end of the runway before taking off the next time he would get out and go to the bathroom there at the edge of the runway. I did as I was told and as he crawled out of the back seat of the airplane, he turned and said, “I think you’re ready, why don’t you take it around this time by yourself”. I nearly fainted! My heart missed several beats. I wasn’t really that scared as much as I was excited.
After he left the airplane, I turned and taxied into position for takeoff. I lined up with the runway, pushed the throttle forward and that little airplane roared down the runway. My mind was racing to keep up with all the things I had been taught in the previous training sessions. Full throttle, push the stick forward to get the tail into the air, watch your speed, keep the airplane straight down the runway, lightly on the rudder controls, watch for the liftoff speed, pull back slowly on the stick, keep the airplane straight, watch your speed, now set up a good climb rate, climb slowly to 600 feet, turn left and climb to 800 feet, turn left again, now you’re parallel with the runway you took off from and headed back in the opposite directions from which you took off, and it’s time to catch your breath because in about 60 seconds you have to start your landing procedure.
Several people had told me, “On your solo flight, don’t look behind you. Fly like your instructor is still in the back seat with you”. In all those training hours, because of the tandem seating, you never saw your instructor. Oh, you heard from him. He yelled at you all the time, but since he sat directly behind you, you never saw him. But, you knew he was there and he would take the controls when you got in trouble.
Some students, I had been told, had been known to get a little excited and get in trouble on their first solo flight when they looked in the back seat and didn’t see their instructor there. They said it was much better to “pretend” the instructor was back there with you and you could do that IF you didn’t look back into the seat behind you.
I absolutely couldn’t resist it. I had to turn and look. When I turned my head to look into the back seat, it was a new high for me! My heart raced, my hands got a little sweaty and a couple of beads of sweat popped out on my forehead, but I felt totally confident. It was just so exciting knowing that I was flying by myself. Looking into that back seat and seeing it empty was exhilarating. I will never forget that moment. My solo flight was one tremendous accomplishment. Probably at that time in my life the most exciting thing I had done and certainly ranks near the top of my lifetime accomplishments.
After the look into the back seat and finding out that - yes, the instructor really, really did get out back there, I set up my landing pattern as I had been instructed in the previous weeks and, I remember it very well, I greased it on that old runway. It was one of my best landings ever!
After I landed, I taxied over to my instructor to pick him up (He didn’t really have to go to the bathroom!) and we taxied back to the hanger where he signed me off to fly solo. I left there feeling ten feet tall. It was, indeed, one of many great days in my life.
After the solo flight, you sort of alternate between the instructor riding with you and going out by yourself to practice. The times I had out by myself were fun. It is hard to explain the feeling or the sensation of being in a small airplane by yourself flying through the air at ten thousand feet.
I did not necessarily like the maneuvers training. The maneuvers were designed to teach you coordination of the use of the stick (control) and the rudder pedals. In other words, if you wanted to make a left turn, you gently pushed the stick to the left with your right hand and at the same time gently apply pressure to the left pedal with your left foot. If it was not done properly - and well coordinated - the turn would be very sloppy! Done properly, the turn would be very smooth. Anyway, the many maneuvers were designed to teach you coordinated moves and after a while (one to two hours!) they would tend to get a little boring.
The one training I really enjoyed was the “touch and go’s”, that is, landings and takeoffs. You simply took off, circled the field, landed, and when the airplane slowed on the runway, you gave it full throttle and take off again, circle the field and on and on. I liked landings. They were always a challenge to see how smooth I could make them. I developed some new techniques that the instructor was not aware of and found I could really slip it on using my new-found technique. While it was contrary to what I was instructed, I could do some great two-point high-speed landings with that technique.
I eventually “graduated” and received my Private Pilot’ License and to do that you simply had to take a written test on flight rules and take a short flight with the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) examiner. That went quite well as I recall. The examiner took you out and you showed him that you could take off and land the airplane, do certain maneuvers, and usually, when you least expected it, he would pull the throttle back and yell “dead engine
My intentions in those days were to become an airline pilot and to do that I would need a Commercial Pilot’s License which grants a pilot the right to fly people “for hire” and an Instrument License which trains and authorizes a pilot to fly “in the blind”, that is, in clouds, rain, etc. Shortly after completing my “private” I started training on my “commercial”. Both, the flying and the knowledge, would become much more involved. I would have to do more difficult flying maneuvers and learn navigation to get my commercial license.
I was a member of the Civil Air Patrol (CAP), a civilian branch of the United States Air Force, that did some training and search and rescue flying. Our CAP unit found a Piper PA-18 super cub in Richmond, Virginia for sale and we bought it for $600.00. There were six (6) of us that put up $100.00 each to buy the plane and we gave it to the CAP unit. The PA-18 was a great airplane. The Air Force used them for training and when they wore them out, they would let the CAP units around the country use them. It had a 115 horsepower, Lycoming engine, flaps, toe brakes. Toe brakes were unusual for small aircraft as most of them had “heel” brakes - little pedals that you pressed with your heels as you taxied in order to steer it. If you wanted to go left, press the left brake and to go right, press the right brake.
The PA-18 had so much power it would almost do loops from straight and level flight, but to do them properly you simply had to push the nose down a little, give it a little extra throttle, then pull back on the stick and she would do perfect loops.
My commercial training went fairly well and I soon received my license.
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