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Flying Above All………….


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It Happened….Again….

It’s been a busy few days….I got to Arizona Thursday evening, flew one flight right before sunset on Friday, then Saturday was busy.  Hot, and as is always the case in the first of the season, there’s a bit of disorganization that seems to stick like a tar ball on a beach…can’t quite shake it, can’t get rid of it, doesn’t really stop you from running, but manages to make things more difficult.

 

 

Bureaucracy, she is everywhere the same… Continue reading


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Tex and the Corsair

The darkness was inky black. Tex drove to the airport, saw the runway lights in the dimness, and was ready. The Corsair was waiting. Day flights, made over time, had left him feeling quite comfortable with the big bird. This morning, with the moon long gone, the stars distant behind a high overcast, the blackness of the night encompassed him in the rumble of the truck taking him to the plane.  The darkness added a bit of tension in his gut….not much, but he could still feel it.

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Season’s End…Camp Is Over

As you may recall, I compared this to summer camp.  Camp is over.  The Parents are on their way.  I work as a “relief pilot” for our company.  That means every two days I move to a different plane.  With five planes, that means I work 10 days, and off 4…I’ve used the four days off to great advantage this summer.  (Pictures later…maybe…)

The word is we’ll be sent home soon..either way, we’ve had some of our planes sent home, so I’m out of a job.

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Dad

Eastern New Mexico is a desolate plain.  Wind whistling through the northwest corner of my paternal grandmother’s house left me with memories of nights when “lonely” seemed the only fitting word to describe a place.  As a child, I loved to visit my grandparents by myself.  The family of four kids and two adults provided little in solitude, and I enjoyed being able to explore the farm buildings, with their (seemingly) ancient books and relics of years gone by.  At my paternal grandparent’s house, nightfall brought amazing skies, and my taciturn grandfather wasn’t much for conversation.  Occasionally the wind would make the old house wheeze and groan, and I would lay there and listen, and think of my ancestors living in “half-dugouts” and houses that today wouldn’t be acceptable for hay sheds.

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