Never Again

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P&E Never Again: Flying the beam

Pilot Magazine | Jul 31, 2014

On August 21, 1961, I was making a night instrument flight into Birmingham, Alabama. My airplane was an Army de Havilland Beaver.

Power out!

Pilot Magazine | Jun 06, 2014

Passing 5,400 feet we heard a muffled pow/blam, had immediate white smoke in the cabin, and a spray pattern of oil on the windscreen. I put out an immediate mayday, and opened the window to clear the smoke.

Never again: Snakes alive!

Pilot Magazine | Apr 08, 2014

Once upon a time, two men were flying in a Bonanza across Florida, from St. Petersburg to Vero Beach. It was a warm day, VFR weather, but with occasional isolated showers that are typical of that part of the country.

Never Again: Missed signals

Pilot Magazine | Feb 18, 2014

I’ve spent all of my life around the family automotive business, and I’ve come to appreciate an adage passed down to me by my father.

Topics GPS, Avionics

Never Again: Interrupting the flow

Pilot Magazine | Jan 22, 2014

Aircraft are time machines in the truest sense of the word. My career involves significant travel, and without an airplane of my own to make those trips, I would spend a countless number of additional days on the road if I had to travel via the airlines.

Never Again: Scud running

Pilot Magazine | Dec 23, 2013

The year was 1949. I was a young Air Force aviation cadet with a little more than 200 flying hours, all of which had been in the North American T–6 aircraft.

Never Again: The no-nose landing

Pilot Magazine | Oct 01, 2013

In 1980, I was chief pilot for an air ambulance service based at Avi Suquilla Airport in Parker, Arizona, which is owned by the Colorado River Indian Tribes.

Never Again: One of those nights

Pilot Magazine | Sep 01, 2013

It was Christmas Eve 1971 and my wife, Christiane, and I were starting out on a 1,000-mile trip from Austin, Texas, to visit my family for the holidays.

Never Again: Tumble in the desert

Pilot Magazine | Aug 01, 2013

My private pilot training took place nearly 36 years ago in a Cessna 150 at Ryan Field near Tucson, Arizona. No one can exaggerate the benefits of training as a student pilot in the Arizona desert’s persistent severe-clear conditions. However, even the perfect training environment could not prevent a nearly disastrous event that occurred during one of my solo cross-country flights.

Never Again: Unseen storm

Pilot Magazine | Jul 01, 2013

In January 1998, as I prepared for my second legislative session as a New Mexico state representative, my wife Cynthia asked me to fly her to Arkansas to visit our daughter. The weather briefer reported a fast-moving cold front that might necessitate an instrument approach.

Never Again: A date with his girl

Pilot Magazine | Jun 01, 2013

I started flying lessons at age 16 at Dalton Airport in Flushing, Michigan. My instructor, Spike, was patient despite some breathtaking moments I provided in a Citabria 7EC.

Never Again: A slap in the face

Pilot Magazine | May 01, 2013

Never Again Listen to this month's "Never Again" story: A slap in the face. Download the mp3 file or download the iTunes podcast.

Never Again: A sleepless night

Pilot Magazine | Feb 01, 2013

Fatigue and flying don't mix

Never Again: Music in the night

Pilot Magazine | Dec 01, 2012

What is the engine telling you?

Never Again: A loud bang

Pilot Magazine | Nov 01, 2012

Bravado can't compensate for skill

Never Again: Crossing Charlie

Pilot Magazine | Aug 01, 2012

Never Again Listen to this month's "Never Again" story: Crossing ‘Charlie’. Download the mp3 file or download the iTunes podcast.

Never Again

Pilot Magazine | Jul 01, 2012

Never Again Listen to this month's "Never Again" story: Cloud Attack. Download the mp3 file or download the iTunes podcast.

Never Again

Pilot Magazine | Jun 01, 2012

For months I had been planning a dive trip at Cayman Brac, one of the Cayman Islands. My nonpilot "co-pilot" Lynn and I have gone on many dive trips in my Piper PA–32-260 Cherokee Six.

Never Again

Pilot Magazine | May 01, 2012

At 10:25 on Easter morning in 2010 I held up my hand to shield the sun as I searched for the traffic at my two o'clock, 1,000 feet above. The air was smooth at 11,500 feet, above solid clouds and the rugged Washington Cascade mountains below. My family--parents, wife, kids, spouses, grandchildren--had gathered for the holiday that weekend, and now I was getting everyone home.