Flying
Transporting human beings and their stuff through the air is one of those amazing inventions which has shaped our modern world as much as anything else of which I can think. The breakthrough in flying machines came when it was discovered that wings had to be rounded at the front so that the air would flow faster over the top of the wing creating lift. Then, of course various engines were invented to propel the wing through the air. But I’m already ahead of myself.
Transporting human beings and their stuff through the air is one of those amazing inventions which has shaped our modern world as much as anything else of which I can think. The breakthrough in flying machines came when it was discovered that wings had to be rounded at the front so that the air would flow faster over the top of the wing creating lift. Then, of course various engines were invented to propel the wing through the air. But I’m already ahead of myself.
My first experience flying was in my dreams. When I was very young, I had a recurring dream. I was in a circus tent perched at the very top of the center pole. I was a performer. Way down below was a swimming pool. My job was to entertain the crowd by jumping off the perch and fly not directly but by swooping around and landing softly in the pool. I had immense control of my flight path and it seemed that the descent could go as quickly or as slowly as I liked. Sometimes, I’d wow the crowd by dipping low, then flying high up again, only to circle like a hawk before eyeing the water and landing. Oddly, I never got wet! I suspect that my dream is a little bit like flying an F-15 Eagle or an F-22 Raptor. I had enormous confidence in my ability to control the flight path.
My father was born in 1910. Almost everyone of that era had a fascination with flying machines. He was no exception. Flying in machines was still pretty novel. When he and his buddies saw an airplane, they’d run down the street pointing at it and yelling, “Airplane, airplane”. Our grandchildren are no different. My first up close encounter with an airplane was also as a very young boy. My parent’s friend, Rose Pascal came to visit us from New York City. She was a very petite, highly educated lady who loved the city and hated the open “undeveloped and wasted” spaces at Tahoe. When we took Rose to the airport for her return to New York, I asked permission to go on the airplane while it was parked at the terminal. The stewardess (that’s what they were called in those days) said, “Sure!” and escorted me onto the plane. No ticket, of course. Just curiosity. I was in awe of the cushy seats, the overhead storage bins, the long aisle, the little windows, the food trays. After I disembarked, we watched as the propellers started up and the big mechanical beast taxied and took off with our friend Rose inside. We watched and waited as the craft disappeared into the horizon.
My next experience with flying was my first flight. I was enrolled in a program at the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) in Berkeley. I don’t remember if it was connected with my swimming or gymnastics, or if it was just a summer day program. Nevertheless, we had to opportunity to go in a private plane from Oakland out over San Francisco Bay. We went to the Oakland Airport General Aviation and walked on the Tarmac out to a private plane which held about five of us little guys, mostly about eight years old, plus the pilot. Somehow I managed to get the back seat next to the window on the left side behind the pilot. He gave us instructions on how to behave and how to buckle up. Buckling up was a big deal, since we didn’t have seat belts in cars in those days. Then he started up the engine and off we went down the runway. It was so exciting to see the buildings and cars get smaller, smaller and smaller still as we went up. Then we could see the San Francisco Oakland Bay Bridge with cars and trains looking like tiny models. Then we headed West over the Golden Gate. What a majestic bridge that is. Looking at it from above was a thrill. Finally, on our way back to the Oakland terminal, the pilot asked if we wanted to see something really cool. Of course we all answered affirmatively. What he did next is recalled as vividly today as it was over fifty years ago. He put a pencil on the top of the instrument panel and then did a parabolic dive. The pencil floated slowly from the front to the back seat where I was sitting. The whole experience probably only lasted about five seconds, but was my first experience with weightlessness. It was an awesome feeling to literally be floating weightless over the Bay. Finally, we landed which gave me another thing to remember about that day. After we taxied back to the place where the plane was to be tied, the pilot asked us all to get out and stand in a particular spot which we did. I was standing with the other boys just having enjoyed a fantastic experience when the adult who had driven us to the airport came to stand with us, waiting while the airplane was properly secured. This guy was a smoker. A careless smoker. His cigarette was in his right hand which hung casually by his side. I was to his right. Without noticing, the burning end of his cigarette came in contact with the back of my left hand. Wow, that hurt. I jumped and yelled and covered the burn with my right hand. He was apologetic, but that didn’t take the hurt away. Unfortunately, that memory spoiled an otherwise fantastic and memorable day.
A year or so later, dad was invited to a conference back East. He and mother decided to go together by air. So they got all dressed up to go to the airport. Back in those days, how you looked was critical to your acceptance in society. Dad wore a suit topped with a nice brimmed dress hat and mother wore a fine dress with a society hat with lace trim. I think she also wore gloves for the travel along with patent leather shoes. At the very least, this was a big deal for a family of modest means.
Grandma and Grandpa came to stay with us for the week which was a nice adventure too.
+Burnley.jpg)
When mother and dad returned, we couldn’t wait for their pictures to come back from the developer. We then set up the slide projector and sat around the living room watching the pictures and listening to the fascinating tales of their trip.The next time I got to fly was a summer trip to Europe. My parents planned to take my brother and me to Europe after I graduated from High School. We boarded at San Francisco and flew non-stop to Bangor, Maine for refueling. With a layover there for about an hour, we then continued to Heathrow airport. We flew on Air France, and were quite impressed with the fine French cuisine which was offered en route.
During my lifetime there have been enormous advances in air travel and there have been some offsetting setbacks as well. Growing up, we could hear the testing of jet engines at the Alameda Naval Air Station. They’d roar for about a minute, then stop. That is about seven miles distance from my childhood home, so we know that they were really loud. Later on, we’d hear the jets overhead on a regular basis as they took off from Oakland Airport or the Naval Air Station in Alameda. One time a friend of mine was not able to get across the Bay Bridge to his violin lesson in San Francisco because the bridge had to be closed after a naval jet crashed into it. Later I studied with the same teacher. He confirmed the story and further told me that was the best excuse he had for a student missing a lesson.
As jets developed more power, the loads they could carry became larger too. Jumbo jets began to ply the air lanes. They could also carry more fuel, so the distances they could travel became longer. Still, for the shorter routes, less efficient propeller planes or prop-jets were the rule. One time we hopped from Champaign, Illinois to Chicago on an Ozark Airlines prop jet. The plane held about 20 passengers. All that kept us from the cockpit was our baggage and a canvas screen. It was noisy as could be, but it gave us a nice view of the University of Illinois as we took off.
Amenities on airlines first became more sophisticated, then less. Airlines competed for comfort, but especially meals. Longer trips were lavish affairs with multiple courses and as much soda as you wanted. Music was provided through headsets, first rented, then later purchased and on some long flights they sometimes even give the headphones gratis. You could tune in everything from comedy shows to the air traffic control. They added televisions which dropped down from the ceiling, then later individual television monitors. Everything from current movies to screens showing the route became commonplace on longer flights. As fuel prices climbed and competition pushed fares lower such lavishness gradually has disappeared except in first class and very long flights. I find that interesting because there is now such a thing as a common traveler. Because the relative cost of air travel diminished, average people have been literally all over the world. At last count I’ve been to all fifty United States and over thirty countries.
Several flying experiences have been special enough to mention. One was my only helicopter flight. It was over Oahu, Hawaii. The helicopter is an amazing bird in that it has huge directional flexibility in addition to its vertical takeoff capabilities. It was fun to be able to have a broader view than one gets in a commercial jet.
One small aircraft flight included a trip from Oakland to Davis with a member of the Kiwanis Club. It took as long to get to and from the airport as it would have taken to drive to Davis. A fun part of that trip was landing in Davis. On approach, our pilot radioed the Davis airstrip tower. No answer. So he said something to the effect, “I’m coming in” and landed. Very informal!
When our thirteen year old son E showed an interest in flying, we were able to give him sailplane lessons. I’d drive him out Interstate 80 to Lagoon Valley where there was a sailplane club. He took lessons for several months from a Dutch lady instructor. I think her name was Heddy. While he received instruction, I’d sit on the picnic bench alternately reading a book or watching Heddy and E take off behind the tow plane. One time she took us both up and I had a try at the controls. A sailplane is nice, since there is no engine noise, just the whoosh of the air flowing past. One day as the tow plane started to tow the sailplane airborne I looked up from my book and saw Heddy walking toward me. Without any advance warning, I saw my (barely teenage) son take off on his first solo flight. Definitely, my heart skipped a beat! As instructed, he flew in circles so as not to get too far afield of our watchful eye. Heddy explained to me that she was very confident in his ability so it was time to let him up alone. Whew! We watched anxiously as he came in for his first solo landing. KaBUMP, BUMP, BUMP. It wasn’t very smooth, but then there are not too many young folks who can solo in the air before they are eligible to get their drivers license! As he came toward us, they doused him with a bucket of water, a long standing tradition among pilots on their first solo flight. Since then E has become one of the world’s best pilots!
Some ten years later E got his general aviation license in Del Rio, Texas. That is right on the Rio Grande River so he wanted to show us that part of the country from the air without straying into Mexican airspace. It’s fun to fly with an expert pilot in a small craft and try your hand at flying straight, turning, working the pedals and so forth. Several years later he took us up in the Anchorage area where we flew over glaciers, practiced a touch and go on a dirt airfield and viewed a beautiful rainbow from the air.
On that same visit to Alaska we took a commercial air taxi from Talkeetna up toward Mt. McKinley, North America’s highest peak. It was just the pilot, R and myself. At about 5,000 feet elevation, our pilot (about age 24) noticed one of the controls was warning him of a maintenance issue. He decided to turn around before we got up the mountain to fix the problem…smart. So we returned to the little airstrip in Talkeetna. They cleaned a fuel injector and a couple of hours later took us up again, this time with the pilot and five passengers. We got up to about 12,000 feet beside Mt. McKinley.
That is one amazing mountain. We were most fortunate to see it without cloud cover which is most unusual. I’m told that happens only four or five days a year. The mountain is so huge that it looked at one point as if we were going to crash straight into it. I asked our pilot how far away we were and he answered, “A couple of miles”. He then turned and landed on a glacier. We walked around for about half an hour as the clouds closed in on McKinley. As you can see from the picture, it was actually pretty warm.
It took humans multiple millenia to master the art of flying. Now we’ve perfected it to the point we can travel through the void of space to the moon and beyond. I certainly remember that special day in July, 1969 when astronauts landed on the moon and then returned safely to earth. Once when I met Wally Schirra, the only astronaut to fly Mercury, Gemini and Apollo missions, he said, “We never talked about going to the moon. We always talked about going to the moon and back”. Whether to use human beings to explore space or to send remote sensors such as the Mars Opportunity and Spirit Rovers is a question which is reasonably debated among scientists and astronauts. Having been someplace and seeing it first hand is always different than watching a slide show images of someone else’s visit.
As we currently enjoy flying whenever and wherever we please around the globe, I have to question what will we do when we deplete our world’s oil? Will an alternate source of jet fuel be developed? Will airport security continue to be a problem or will we ever develop the trust we had when I first boarded that commercial flight out of curiosity? I must say, it is remarkable to live in the time we do. We are indeed fortunate to be able to fly.
©Frank Bliss 2008 All rights reserved
September, 2008
