My Pilot Parents

I remember seeing a big silver plane, lots of pointy things, and many of airplanes (some loud noises too). I remember my Dad, Joseph Meinhard, seeing the same type of plane he used to fly (TBM 3E Avenger). He climbed up into the TBM Avenger’s cockpit, and then he sat down. I remember him smiling and saying he wanted to start it and take off. I recall his shedding of tears reliving a memory only he and my Mom (Marilyn) would understand. I was six years old then, but I remember that moment in particular of my dad crying and missing the joy he once experienced flying. My parents shared an emotional connection that day that only pilots could understand. By then, they had not flown together in years. During my young age during that event, I only knew my dad had flown during the Korean War and my mom flew planes too “in the olden days.” My understanding of flight and having two parents who were aviators did not really impact me in those younger years, but the stories, slide shows, and other images scattered around our home slowly did as time wore on. So much gained from our parent’s stories and so much is lost when they are gone makes me greatly appreciative for the years of stories that followed, capturing my attention and imagination. Thirty years later little would I know I would be working at the very place that I once visited several times as a child for air shows or as an outing for Cub Scouts. My mom and dad would take me to Berz Airport, Detroit City Airport, and sometimes when my Grandparents would fly in on Republic Airlines from Florida, I would go to Detroit Metro Airport. I remember one time my dad talked with the flight crew and they allowed me to go into the flight deck (cockpit) of one of the airplanes he was going to fly on as a passenger to Florida (this is something that certainly would not happen now). I remember the pilot asking me what time it was. The pilot then proceeded to ask me to find the clock on the instrument panel. I remember looking at all the dials and gauges and feeling really dumb as to not find the simple clock. I knew what a clock looked like, but eventually the pilot laughed and pointed to it being “right there.”

Wow, the complexity of the cockpit certainly made me look like a fool then. To think now my job requires me to find four or five essential switches and levers to shut down an aircraft in an emergency.The impact of my parents, of my Mother, flying always accompanied me in my life. I joined the Marines in 1989. I went to boot camp and flew to California in the process. This was my first time flying alone. I remember wondering what my Father, who was deceased since 1986, would have thought of me going into the Marines. I have wondered if I would ever learn to fly, even now. The taste of flight was always there for me in the Marines. My job became an aircraft firefighter and rescue technician, a fancy word for firefighter in the Marines. There I would gain access into almost every aircraft the Navy and Marine Corps flew. I trained to turn off the engines, safety the ejection seats, fight fires, and aircrew removal just to name a few duties. There were a few emergencies were the pilots came back to thank us. Some brought us pizza and beer and others brought us some classified gun camera movies of Desert Storm. Today, I still work as a firefighter and train to rescue the pilots and crew from aircraft if ever needed. I often fly every year at work to go to training up in Alpena, MI. Every time I go I seek a seat on the flight deck for landing or take-off. This does not suppress the desire to fly which is stil

l in me.With the advent of computers and a few computer based flight simulators, I had a small taste of the computer world flying, though this was not even close to what my Mom and Dad had done with the planes they had flown.  The panoramas seen from the air, the smell and feel of powered flight high above the ground, and seeing your own shadow cast upon the clouds below was something a computer could not reproduce.

In my many travels over the years I often talked about Dad and Mom being pilots and their love of flight. More recently I discussed my parents being pilots during some training at Selfridge ANGB related to work as a firefighter there. In our class were three pilots. One an Air Force KC-135 (Boeing 707) pilot and the other two were both HH-65 helicopter pilots from the US Coast Guard. That particular day I had brought in some pictures of my Mom and Dad and I showed these pilots the flying heritage in my family. They really enjoyed seeing some vintage photos of WWII aircraft and the early jets of the Korean War that my Father had taken. They were amazed that my Mom received her license to fly before her license to drive an automobile. Boy have the times changes now, one does not hear of kids attending flight training before drivers training!

To be a son of two skilled pilots is something I am proud of and most certainly I am proud of both of my parents. At times my Mom will say, “I am so dumb, I can not even figure this TV remote out…” or something along the lines of modern technology and her lack of understanding to use it. I will tell her,  “Mom, you flew planes, so you’re not dumb! I know not how to fly so that is one thing more you know more than me.” That usually gets a laugh out of her. She was not the normal girl for her time, she was flying and doing things that most women were really counted out of as a job, hobby, or as a way of life. Now women fly some of the fasted jets, dangerous combat missions, highly skilled rescue and firefighting missions, and even the space shuttle. They had to start somewhere and my mom was one of the early ones who dared to soar with the eagles in a man’s world. I am proud of her for achieving flight in an era and age when it still was new. © 2010 Daniel Meinhard, all rights reserved.