Aviation

The image above is of a Piper Cherokee (PA-28 140) that I flew out of Cleveland Hopkins International Airport. This is the actual plane. And, I made a RC model of it that I miraculously never crashed (see below). I seem to remember the livery to be all blue, as in my model. But repaints are common since the planes sit in the sun 24x7. Notice the black junk on the bottom of the plane and the broken engine cowl latch -- Typical. I received my pilot's license at 17 and flew for a couple of years before the cost just overwhelmed me. Some days I wish I could still fly, but you really need a purpose.

To the right is a picture of my two favorite Remote Control (RC) planes. A model of the NASA Dryden F15 Active (in red, white and blue) and my Piper Cherokee (PA-28 140) modeled after the one I soloed in and pictured in this page's header shot above. That F15 was stinkin' fast and hard for me to fly -- and it bit the dust after only a half dozen flights or so. This picture shows me in the basement of our first Minnesota home prepping for a remodel. This room was my son's bedroom, my "craft" room and then became the master bedroom with an on suite bath.

2022 shots of a couple of my two remaining model radio controlled airplanes. The Cherokee and my Eagle II trainer. They are now decorative additions to the shop.

The images to the left are when I took my Father and Grandmother up in a Piper Warrior to Indian River Ranch, in central Florida. I have to hand it to her as she really loved the ride, even though VFR was getting iffy and we had to fly around some clouds and things. At this resort, they picked us up in a limo after we landed at their on-site airport. Hotel, restaurant, pool, horses, you name it--they had it. We had some lunch and then took off for the home airport in Boca (or Ft. Lauderdale Executive -- I don't remember). How do you like my hat? In the Fun 'N Games section of the site you will see I built a Flight Simulator that is modeled after this Warrior.

At the right is me in a 152 in Boca Raton, Florida. I started my flight school in Cleveland but actually got my license after we moved to Florida in 1980. My Florida flight instructor was a B25 instructor at that very location in Boca during WWII. He taught me how to take torpedo runs and dive bombing approaches in a 150 Aerobat. Like the adolescent that I was, I needed to show one of my College friends, David, how this was done. During the fun (off shore over some big cargo ships) he simply repeated over and over -- please get higher. Please not so low. I didn't listen. If you can't see the shirt logos on the guys on the ship you are "bombing" you can't be low enough! We got home, checked in the airplane, closed the flight plan, got in the Buick (see The Cars section), and David promptly puked in my flight bag and all over the inside of the car door and floor. Some of the "material" ran down the window and into the inside portion of the door, and didn't get cleaned up initially. It baked in the Florida sun and stunk up the car for months. I had to take it all apart. Plus my Telex headset was ruined. Thanks, David.

This is around 1990, I'm guessing -- taking the kids up in a 172. That is not a briefcase in my hand but the highly portable first generation VHS recorder for the flight. I did take Cita up in the plane as well as my nephews Christopher and Steven, but I don't seem to have any pics of those. For all the young gentlemen out there trying to impress the ladies. Take their kid brother's and sister's up for a ride in a plane -- it scores big points -- trust me.

I thought I'd add this picture of a friend and Colleague Kent, from my consulting days. Story here. We were working for the same IT consulting firm, but only saw each other occasionally in the office when not assigned to a client. We ended up chatting about aviation and he thought it would be really fun to learn -- but that's all that was ever said. The next time I saw him he had his license! Talk about making decisions and taking action! Anyway, we took off in this Piper Arrow and flew to a golf resort in Wisconsin. Here's the interesting bit. When we took off Kent didn't take his printed sectionals (maps). He was a big advocate of (the VERY new) GPS systems. But the airport code kept pointing us in the wrong direction. So he had me take the controls and he literally turned around with his feet on the Instrument panel and butt in the air and started ripping through his flight bag. We must have found something as we landed, had a great meal and took off for home (Crystal Airport). Kent used his license to facilitate travel with his own company helping firms install manufacturing resource control software up and down the Midwest.

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