What's Up - April 2013
A Love Story…Not the Movie, a Real Love Story
By Larry Shapiro
I’m going to try and break away from my usual feeble attempt at providing you with a small dose of humor and instead share with you not one, not two, but three “REAL” love stories and I’m starring in at least two of them. I have to give credit for one of them to a much more deserving person, and one of my new heroes…you’ll see why if you are still reading this column, and haven’t put your copy of In Flight down. It won’t matter, but you’ll lose and I won’t like you any more.
The Smell of Plastic…Love Story Number One
While basking in the wafting aroma of the “new plastic” ticket I was sitting on, flying from SoCal to NorCal, an emotional thought crossed my mind. I was flying alone for the first time in years – not by plan, but by circumstances – I was flying solo instead of with other pilots that just happened to be there on previous flights. I know there was a tear or two on my face as I realized that this was my first real solo flight since the FAA stripped me of my flying privileges. Wow! Really amazing thoughts and feelings zoomed in and out of my head and heart, but that’s the way it was and should be.
Okay, now it’s real tissue time as I share with you the true meaning of a true caring friendship. The kind of friendship that leaves no doubt as to how much you are cared for, and not by just your kids and wife, but by the real people that are part of the daily ritual of life.
First, two minutes after I had landed at a small country airport 100-plus miles north of the L.A. Basin, another airplane landed. Normally that would not be considered a big thing, but this was a big thing, but I didn’t know it at the time.
As I stood on the ramp waiting for a client, the other airplane, the one that was two-minutes behind me, taxied up and shut down. Wow! I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was my newly-adopted aviation stepson stepping out of his beautiful 172 and greeting me with a real man hug. Now that shouldn’t be considered a big thing because I was at an airport and he was flying an airplane. What I didn’t know was that his being there was not a coincidence or an accident. He wasn’t just out poking holes in the sky as I thought, but he was there making sure I was okay. I had been too naive to put two and two together. I didn’t come to this realization until the second part of this love story, which starts in a few more words. He had called my home and my wife told him where I was going and what I was doing.
After the usual time invested in a preflight, and a long run up, as one should do when climbing into an unfamiliar airplane, I waived good by to my now even more treasured friend and I launched for the S.F. Bay Area.
I quickly discovered a few minor squawks, including a failed Mode ”C,” and some other boring irritations that I chose to be aware of and to just press on and live with them. I stayed well aware of where major airports were that housed qualified “wrenchers” in case they were needed. Besides, I wasn’t in any real hurry, it was a beautiful northern California day and I was in one of my favorite seats, located in the front row of a Cessna 182.
Not having the luxury of an operational Mode “C,” I was continually keeping ATC aware of my altitude and they kept me aware of traffic at my seven o’clock position and I was having too much fun not realizing that it had been there for more than 100 miles. If I wasn’t having so much fun I might have recognized the tail number, but I was much too busy taking care of business.
Shortly afterwards, and a few freq changes later, my seven o’clock traffic disappeared as I started my decent into Palo Alto. My title of “King of Naive” continued and did until after I landed.
I wanted to spray off some of the central valley dust and bugs so I taxied to the wash rack, shut down and proceeded to answer my ringing cell phone. On the other end was another one of my treasured flying friends who started with this sentence: “Okay, I can relax now that I know you got back alright.” Say what!? He was still laughing when he identified himself as my traffic at seven o’clock. (He had been hiding down there so I couldn’t and wouldn’t see him.) And now, my IF Readers, you know the other side of the story. My friend Rick knew where I was, he was on his way home and was hanging out until I launched so he could follow me home to be sure I was okay. And so ends love story number one.
Love Story Number Two (Handshakes Are Alive and Well)
This one is short and sweet, but needed to be shared. I’m leaving out some of the gory details to protect the guilty and not give the FAA another reason to call me.
I needed to be up north – way up north – to complete a charity commitment I had made and it could not be delegated. It required many weeks of planning and preparation, plus the skills of a very special pilot who made herself available to help. We needed to reposition a 1946 Taylor Craft to PAO to be sold, with the proceeds going to a charity selected by the very elegant, generous and lovely 85-year-old owner.
We got all our ducks in a row, and departed from PAO to pick up this 75 hp treasure (with no electrical system). Twenty minutes after our departure, our trusty steed started acting like it was going to get sick so we opted to land at an airfield right in front of us (where I just happened to have an airplane parked). We landed, unloaded and reloaded then once again launched off into the blue. Another good decision had been made – safety first, “always!”
A lovely flight later we landed, found our little treasure, tested the rest rooms to be sure they worked, and proceeded to get ready for this historic flight. (Why was it historic? No reason, I just felt like saying that.)
Get ready, here comes the love stuff: As we prepped our little Rag Muffin for it’s long, slow ride to it’s planned new home (with no electrical system and the nose wheel on the tail), along came one of my smiling broker friends. He saw the little “T” Craft and said, “Hey Lar!” –he always calls me “Hey”– “I think I may know someone that might want to buy this.” I responded with, “If he has his checkbook with him, he can buy it here, if he doesn’t he’ll have to write it at PAO.”
Ten minutes later, and after I told the charity story, I was holding his check, and that was that. He now owns the little beauty, the charity got some dollars, and we went home…and that is the end of love story number two, plus the joy of knowing that handshakes are still alive and well!
Saving the Best for Last
I guess that’s the way it should be … this story is not a surprise, it was just more than I expected and I’m thrilled to share it with you – it’s going to be a lifesaver for sure. I shared with you some time back that knowing when to cut back or quit your solo flying was very important for many reasons. After talking with his wife and many of his airport friends, I actually had to ask this loved and respected friend for his keys, thus ending his solo flying. In actuality, before I got to ask him for the keys, he brought them to me, along with the most beautiful, organized and complete paperwork history of an airplane I had ever seen.
I followed that up with the thought that I think he has a responsibility to his fellow members of the United Flying Octogenarians (UFOs) – an organization he is an officer in – and for that reason I charged him with that responsibility, which he accepted with grace and enthusiasm. I am now honored – and with his permission – to share his story, in his words, with you. This is a story of courage, and it’s a must read:
When Is It Time to Call It Quits?
Bob and Diane Claypool. (Provided by Larry Shapiro)Sure, you were able to pull off that double landing trick on I-80 near Rawlins, Wyo., but that was back in ’06. Things have changed since then. You are now 86-years old and finding out that in certain aspects of your daily life, you are not quite as sharp as you were in your younger years
First there was this hearing thing, but you could fix that in the cockpit by cranking up the volume knobs on each side of your headset. Then, this past Christmas, you found another special type of headset under the tree. Now, you could select the volume setting of the TV without making it too loud for your wife. How did Santa know?
Let’s not forget the eyes. They also deteriorate with advancing age. If you haven’t visited your ophthalmologist for a while, you may be surprised in having trouble reading the chart during your next medical exam. Of course it is always helpful if your AME’s nurse gives you a few hints during the eye test.
Another issue for many of us advancing in years is memory loss. Usually it starts out with what they call “short-term” memory loss. That happens when you forget what was on your mind just five minutes ago. More serious, however, is the long-term memory loss. That’s when you can’t remember the name of a good friend who you haven’t seen for a few months.
You can also feel the effect if you haven’t flown your plane for a month or two. You step into the cockpit and find that you have trouble deciding which one of all of those instruments you should turn on first. How could that happen after all these years in the airplane? An electronic checklist device shows you where to start and takes you through the entire routine, but you know that you should remember.
When my wife, Diane, and I first met about 27-years ago, she knew virtually nothing about flying in small airplanes. But as soon as she learned that I owned and loved to fly a Cessna 182, she dug right in and began learning what it means to fly in the right seat. She studied, she took pitch-hitter rides with instructors, she learned the necessary communications language, and before long, she was a top-notch co-pilot. Diane handles all of the communications with the tower, ground, and other pilots along the way. We both have a GPS, so she also is a big help with navigation.
Diane and I have flown on many cross-country flights from our home base at the Palo Alto Airport on the San Francisco Peninsula. We flew through Canada to Alaska, to Corpus Christi, Texas, and to many places in California, Oregon, and Washington. We made trips to Wisconsin for annual reunions with University of Wisconsin classmates. I felt proud that I was able to fly us there when some of my friends were no longer driving cars.
Joining the United Flying Octogenarians a few days after I turned 80 put me in touch with a number of great pilots. When I was elected to the UFO Board of Directors I met the cream of the crop. One such person is Nancy Warren, not only a member of the Board of Directors, but also Area Representative for the UFO in Indiana. On top of that, Nancy is well known as an aviation writer. Late last year, Nancy wrote a piece entitled “Always a Pilot.” Her story is about giving her Cessna Cardinal 177 to two young men, both college students and licensed pilots, whom she had befriended. In one of her paragraphs, she wrote, “I wondered if I would know when it was time to ‘hang it up’…” She did not want to wait until she had gone past that time and had a bad experience – for herself, the airplane, or anyone else. She wrote, “As time went on, the thought of my flying days ending somehow felt less painful, because I had made my decision.”
I thought about the same thing myself recently and common sense finally prevailed. I, too, decided to do no more PIC flying after my 86th birthday, which occurred on February 22, 2013. Since I don’t know two great, young guys as Nancy did, I made a decision to sell my 182 so that some other lucky (and probably younger) person can enjoy flying it as I did. Diane and I will miss flying, but we have wonderful memories and great photos of happy times in 19 November.
Bob Claypool, Executive Vice President
United Flying Octogenarians
I’m Just Saying …
I am very proud of my UFO friend and the story and courage he just shared with you. I would only add that I lived through the burden of pain and worry I watched being carried by his “best friend,” Diane, and his family. They knew that flying was the air Bob needed to breath and live. Bob’s story may now save many others from the possible fear and pain of losing someone they love. The added gifts here are that many will benefit from Bob’s Courage.
Manners!
Saying thank you goes a long way…I ask you to take the time to do it. We all are much too quick on the trigger to file a complaint or point out flaws in service and work, but much too slow, if ever, to offer some words of appreciation for good, great, and complete service and the even better gesture of, “Service with a smile!” My personal “bravo” and “roses” to the Sunday crew at Sterling Aviation located at Buchanan Field Airport in Concord, Calif. (CCR). We were in need of help and it was provided with all the things mentioned above, plus the smile.
On Final
I’d be remiss not to pray for and wish the new Pope well on his journey into history – what I think and feel really isn’t important to most Catholics, with me being a member in good standing of the Hebraic Community, but I will publically state that I like this New Guy. I think he will make an important difference in our world and I don’t care what language he prays in as long as it’s the truth. Now I need to know what his thoughts are about the FAA and general aviation. I did notice that one of his first public pictures had his helicopter in it; I guess that’s a good thing…
Until next time …
That’s Thirty!
“Over”
