Pilots

If Jack Neubacher is a modern Don Quixote tilting at the spectral windmill of general aviation's decline, then his companion, his Sancho Panza, is his 1956 Piper Tri-Pacer, Pegasus. The man whose license plate reads "Fly 4 Fun" is a self-admitted and unashamed throwback who says, "A few years ago I was told that the type of aviation I'm looking for is gone forever. I refuse to believe it."

Neubacher's refusal to accept the conventional wisdom that he missed the golden age of aviation has, over time, led him to become a "blue collar" ambassador for the type of flying that can be overlooked in an era where technology and performance reign supreme. His transformation from just another private pilot to spokesperson has been gradual but constant in the years since he tricked his parents into letting him learn to fly. When he asked their permission to obtain a student pilot certificate, he didn't bother to tell them that it wasn't just for ground school. "On the morning that I soloed, I went into the family grocery store and hung the certificate up on the wall. They asked me what I was going to do then, and I told them that I'd already done it." Since that morning in Geneva- on-the-Lake, Ohio, Neubacher has found it increasingly difficult to remain quiet about the wonders of flight.

He is a machinist who has become a writer. His monthly column in The Southern Aviator, appropriately titled "Fly 4 Fun," is now in its eighth year. Started on a dare after a challenge from his son, the column is true to its author's blue-collar roots. His travels in the lovingly restored Pegasus provide the inspiration for his tales of the friendships that flying has brought. "I'm more of a storyteller than writer, I guess. I like to write about the fun part of aviation. I leave the horror stories to someone else."

He's working on a book about his aviation heroes. And although the names might be familiar, they aren't the Lindberghs, Posts, and Earharts that fill most volumes of aviation history. Rather, they are the Max Conrads and Frank Kingston Smiths who helped to build general aviation. Smith holds a special place in Neubacher's story, almost preventing him from graduating from high school. "I read Frank Kingston Smith books all the time. I used Weekend Pilot for four different book reports. Before I could pass my senior year and graduate, they made me write three new ones."

From his first rides in a Piper J-5 Family Cruiser, to more than 50 combat missions in Southeast Asia as a Navy crewman aboard a P-3 Orion, to cruising the southeastern United States in Pegasus, Neubacher's life has always had an aviation thread running through it. Along the way he earned a multiengine rating in a Piper Apache. Although coming close, he has shunned an instrument rating for fear that it will change him to an always-by-the-numbers pilot. He says, "To me, it's too much of a joy and a privilege to get to fly to worry about the instrument rating."

The word privilege creeps often into Neubacher's writings and musings on flight. Aware of the problems facing general aviation but refusing to be daunted by them, he states his philosophy simply. "Flying is a right and a privilege, but it's also an honor. A long time ago, one of my favorite flight instructors, Margaret Dial, answered my statement of 'I wish they'd promote general aviation more' with 'Who's they?' I realized that we are the 'they.'" He not only writes of the kid standing at the airport fence, but he seeks out the kids and offers rides. With high praise for programs like the EAA's Young Eagles and AOPA's Project Pilot, Neubacher says that they are "pushing the right buttons" and trying to rebuild aviation from the ground up.

Taking any opportunity to join in that rebuilding, he freely offers his time as a public speaker to aviation and non-aviation groups alike. He searches out an even broader non-flying audience through a 10- to 15-minute radio segment on a popular show that originates in Charlotte, North Carolina, called "Carolina Outdoors." He sees his part of the show as a chance to reach those who are interested in activities such as boating and hunting. "The listeners, that's the group of people who'll go out to the airport next weekend and take a ride. The next weekend maybe they'll want to take a flying lesson."

When his home airport in Salisbury, North Carolina, recently experienced the problems of growth that began to threaten its use by a number of general aviation pilots, Neubacher took a leadership role in bringing the two sides together. He urged local pilots to choose cooperation rather than confrontation. "We formed a pilot association, and all of a sudden we realized that we were talking about all of the good things about aviation and not so many of the bad things. We really tried to take all of the controversy out of this. We're trying to enjoy and not lose what we have." The association soon became a new EAA chapter and experienced phenomenal growth in its first year, with an unheard-of 80 members. They now have a pilot on the airport's advisory board and have made Neubacher their first chapter president.

Not a record setter — or, as he says, one of those "million milers" with a logbook crammed with fantastic aerial adventures — Neubacher is too modest to claim the recognition he deserves. It may be only in one small area of a vast country, but it's the Jack Neubachers of flying who are keeping grass roots aviation alive.