Family is important to our physical and emotional survival and well-being, and whether we realize it, we belong to several families. First we belong to our family of blood and marriage, that which has no superior. Then we belong to our family of friends, coworkers, and community. And, finally, we pilots belong to the family of aviators.
Our membership in families not of blood or marriage depends on a common interest and shared passion. The family's strength relies not on time, place, or ardor, but the attitude of its members. Some families are nothing more than groups of civil strangers. Others are warm, open-hearted clans that know no strangers.
This notion struck me just before Thanksgiving, a day known for family gatherings, at a Holiday Inn in Forth Worth, Texas. Duane Cole, whose life is a living history of general aviation's many parts, and his wife, Judy, were celebrating the 60th anniversary of their marriage. I felt proud to be counted among the friends they invited to share their special day.
Many of the 135 people who attended the celebration knew each other, but they tended to be members of various sub-families - aerobatics, air racing, air shows, the military, and grassroots aviation. Like the patriarch and matriarch of the gathering, however, the guests didn't sequester themselves within a sub-family. They extended a welcome hand to those whom they had not yet met.
Unrelated brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins learned each other's names and hometowns. They shared stories, and the family grew larger and stronger.
Several days after Thanksgiving, my family and I stopped at a small airport, Poplar Grove, just outside of Rockford, Illinois. We were on our way back to Kansas City from my parent's house, and I wanted to check out Poplar Grove for Flight School Business, an offspring of Flight Training.
It was an ugly day, raining, with maybe a 300-foot ceiling. Yet I knew people would be at the airport, and that either Steve or Tina Thomas, who own the private, public use airport, would be there.
I'd been here before. It had been a stop on my way to the 1997 Experimental Aircraft Association convention at Oshkosh, Wisconsin. The people of the Poplar Grove family had welcomed me as a pilot - a family member. More important, they had welcomed my wife just as warmly that day while I was off wandering around.
People cooking in the open doors of their hangars offered us something to eat. Others offered us cold drinks. Several offered us a ride around the patch - it was a nice evening, perfect for watching the sun set, they said. An airport kid pushed a J-3 Cub into the hangar, then landed at the picnic table for some hangar flying with other pilots already tied down there.
Yes, unless our first visit was a fluke, I was sure I would find people at Poplar Grove on a rainy November afternoon, and I did. Sitting in the lounge they watched a college football game on a small color TV. Steve Thomas was out of town, and Tina was out to lunch, one member of the family said. "But she'll be right back, so have a seat, and do you want a cup of coffee?"
Family. An everyday special moment.
If it weren't already so, the importance of the family of aviators became clear to me last week at an unexpected place - my son's Cub Scout meeting. Talking to another pilot about EAA Oshkosh, he asked why I hadn't missed the event since 1978. "Once you've seen all the airplanes," he said, "isn't it all the same?"
After thinking about this for a moment I said, "No. I like looking at the airplanes, both old and new, but I really don't go for the airplanes. I go for the people. EAA Oshkosh isn't an air show, it's the world's largest family reunion, and I go because I haven't met all of the members of the family yet."
Tina Thomas of Poplar Grove, when she returned to the airport with her lunch, put it all into perspective. "Flying is not a hobby, it's a lifestyle. If you don't get the family involved it's not going to work." And then she offered to share her lunch with me.
Scott M. Spangler
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