The Purpose of An Aviator

Different types of flying have different types of challenges.

The reason most of us airline types talk more about other types of flying is that is our hobby. Sure we go to work, but no matter what job you do day in and day out, you fail to see the aspects that might be interesting to others. Much like when I was in and out of LGA all the time (as are so many others) shooting an Express Way vis in a direct crosswind onto a mostly plowed runway, or the LDA approach down the river to DCA. Both exciting, challenging and fun approaches, but again, you do it enough and it gets a bit passe.

Now, it's A590 or R220 over ocean flying and flying into all parts of the world with all kinds of rule sets. When I hit the glider field, that's all the "hangar talk" turns to from the others. I keep steering it back to soaring since I have so much to learn. While the CFI's don't see the fun factor in hopping from airplane type to airplane type and flying where they want, and I see that as good stuff.

Maybe it just spins back to the whole "grass is greener" deal.

And for those that don't think airline pilots appreciate their job, I've sat in plenty of messy wx situations with the APU running, lights and heat on, drinking coffee waiting to go. No running around outside, wearing my jacket and gloves in the plane cause it's too cold to do it otherwise, praying to start engines so I can have electricity and heat. Been there, done that. Only on my own fruition (Aviation Career Gods willing) from now on. :D

Have a Bandit Day!
 
You see them at airport terminals around the world. You see them in the morning early, and sometimes at night. They come neatly uniformed and hatted, sleeves striped; wings over their left pocket; They show up looking fresh. There's a brisk, young-old look of efficiency about them.... They arrive fresh from home, from hotels, carrying suitcases, battered briefcases, bulging with a wealth of technical information, data, filled with regulations, rules.

They know the new, harsh sheen of Chicago's O'Hare. They know the cluttered approaches to Newark; they know the tricky shuttle that is Rio; they know but do not relish the intricate instrument approaches to various foreign airports; they know the volcanoes all around Guatemala .They respect foggy San Francisco. They know the up-and-down walk to the gates at Dallas, the Texas sparseness of Abilene, the very narrow Berlin Corridor, New Orleans' sparkling terminal, the milling crowds at Washington. They know Butte, Boston, and Beirut.

They appreciate Miami's perfect weather, they recognize the danger of an ice-slick runway at JFK .They understand short runways, antiquated fire equipment, inadequate approach lighting, but there is one thing they will never comprehend: Complacency.

They marvel at the exquisite good taste of hot coffee in Anchorage and a cold beer in Guam. They vaguely remember the workhorse efficiency of the DC-3s, the reliability of the DC- 4s and DC 6s, the trouble with the DC-7 and the propellers on Boeing 377s. They discuss the beauty of an old gal named Connie.

They recognize the high shrill whine of a Viscount, the rumbling thrust of a DC-8 or 707 on a clearway takeoff from Haneda, and a Convair. The remoteness of the 747 cockpit. The roominess of the DC10 and the snug fit of a 737.

They speak a language unknown to Webster. They discuss ALPA, EPRs, fans, mach and bogie swivels. And, strangely, such things as bugs, thumpers, crickets, and CATs, but they are inclined to change the subject when the uninitiated approaches.

They have tasted the characteristic loneliness of the sky, and occasionally the adrenaline of danger. They respect the unseen thing called turbulence; they know what it means to fight for self-control, to discipline one's senses.

They buy life insurance, but make no concession to the possibility of complete disaster, for they have uncommon faith in themselves and what they are doing. They concede that some of the real glamour is gone from flying. They deny a pilot is through at sixty.

They know tomorrow, or the following night, something will come along they have never met before; they know flying requires perseverance and vigilance. They know they must practice, lest they retrograde.

As a group, they defy mortality tables, yet approach semi-annual physical examinations with trepidation. They are individualistic, yet bonded together. They are family people.

They are reputedly overpaid, yet entrusted with equipment worth millions. And entrusted with lives, countless lives.

At times they are reverent: They have watched the Pacific sky turn purple at dusk and the stark beauty of sunrise over Iceland at the end of a polar crossing. They know the twinkling, jeweled beauty of Los Angeles at night; they have seen snow on the Rockies.

They remember the vast unending mat of green Amazon jungle, the twisting Silver road that is the father of waters, an ice cream cone called Fujiyama, the hump of Africa.

Who can forget Everest from 100 miles away, or the ice fog in Fairbanks in January? They have watched a satellite streak across a starry sky, seen the clear, deep blue of the stratosphere, felt the incalculable force of the heavens.

They have marveled at sun-streaked evenings, dappled earth, velvet night, spun silver clouds, sculptured cumulus: God's weather. They have viewed the Northern Lights, a wilderness of sky, a pilot's halo, a bomber's moon, horizontal rain, contrails and St Elmo's Fire. Only a pilot experiences all this. It is their world.

 
I was mostly just looking for common ground to address the masses. Splitting hairs about target demographics might be nice for statistical analysis, but I was soap boxing raw ideas, so that wasn't really my intention. Isn't the point of pioneering to ask the question about where you're going next, and why? There, I asked it in question form now. Have a nice day. :)

Charlie,

Wonderful post my friend. Certainly recommend sending it to a couple of newspapers and magazines, perhaps even that of your own union for publishing. You may be surprised what sort of reaction you get.

That said, don't worry about trying to seperate those who can't take a wonderful post for it's own sake and and those who can. There will always be the ego-maniacs who need to remind everyone else why their happy go lucky Part 91, 121, 135 environment is better than anyone else's.

Heaven forbid we commend someone for wonderful writing that takes many of us back to a period of time, or place, that reminds us of why we do what we do everyday.

Cheers buddy.

FWIW, I read jrh's post in the same way A Life Aloft did.

Both A Life Aloft and FL900 have summed up my thoughts on this subject quite well.

From a purely "reading the same way" position, you three are certainly not alone...
 
Charlie,

Wonderful post my friend. Certainly recommend sending it to a couple of newspapers, perhaps even that of your own union for publishing. You may be surprised what sort of reaction you get.

That said, don't worry about trying to seperate those who can't take a wonderful post for it's own sake and have to find some way to ruin a great post.

x2
 
Firebird.. very inspiring post, thank you. As an aviator in the beginning of my career that is a breath of fresh air amongst the negativity out there... we can all make a difference and push the envelope if we so choose, no matter where we are in aviation.

A Life Aloft... great one as well. Is that Ernest Gann? If so from which of his books? What a great, vivid, and concise bit of writing on who pilots are and why we do what we do.
 
Firebird.. very inspiring post, thank you. As an aviator in the beginning of my career that is a breath of fresh air amongst the negativity out there... we can all make a difference and push the envelope if we so choose, no matter where we are in aviation.

A Life Aloft... great one as well. Is that Ernest Gann? If so from which of his books? What a great, vivid, and concise bit of writing on who pilots are and why we do what we do.
Nope not Mr. Gann, whom I greatly admire. Just another former line holder who also obviously loved his career and a close life long friend sent this to me several years ago.
 
What was his name?
I edited/changed changed my post by two words to make myself more clear. I just got home and rushed a bit. My friend (who is a pilot and a life long close friend of mine) sent this to me and he has no idea who wrote it as it was "found" and sent to him by another pilot and he simply passed it around to several others, including myself and I imagine others have done the same. I have shared it with many people over time and no one seems to know where this piece came from. I shared it with another pilot friend about two months ago and he posted it on his Facebook account, it was read by many others and no one there knows who wrote it either, but everyone enjoyed it and many could relate. It's one of those things that someone found on the net or read somewhere and decided to pass along and others have done the same. That is all I really know. Hope that answers your question. If you know where it originally came from, please share.
 
So far I have been able to trace it back to a Delta Capt flying in the late 60s.
It's funny, because the friend that I gave it to not long ago, was a DAL Captain (now retired) and a writer and he's very well read as far as aviation fiction and non-fiction (we both are really) and keeps up with blogs, various sites, and articles etc., as I try to do when I have time, plus he just has a zillion friends that are pilots and in other various fields in aviation and he has no clue where it came from either and hasn't found anyone who does know who the author is. Be nice if we can solve the mystery at some point. I have that piece framed in my home office because I like it so well and can just relate to it so much. We have a mission now. lol
 
I accept missions like this. The DAL Capt I mentioned lists it as Author Unknown and that was in a 1978 Christmas letter!

Because it mentions the old jets, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say it originated with a WWII transport or heavy bomber pilot who went straight to the airlines. That's why I am searching VFW and military webpages.
 
Then again, similar to a lost Picasso painting that mysterious pops up at a friend's estate, perhaps this piece was authored by Gann and forgotten as a minor piece of his work. I think it has Gann all over it..either authored by him or a nom de plume of a friend or one who wished to emulate Gann.
 
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