"My first exposure to a de Havilland DHC-1 Chipmunk was in 1968 when I checked out in an ex-Royal Air Force model operated by the East African Aero Club in Nairobi, Kenya," says author Barry Schiff (see " In Her Majesty's Service," page 92). "I became immediately enamored with its flight characteristics. One doesn't move the controls to maneuver a Chipmunk as much as will it to go in one direction or another." The Chipmunk was the ideal trainer in which to prepare for single-seat fighters. "The only thing better is a Super Chipmunk, a civilian modification that substitutes a 210-horsepower Lycoming and a constant-speed propeller for the more cantankerous, oil-burning Gipsy Major engine that turns a fixed-pitch propeller the wrong way. Climb rate increases from 800 to 1,800 fpm. With that kind of performance, who needs a Spitfire?" says Schiff.
In " Fathers and Sons and Airplanes," page 107, author Steven B. Wallace describes the day nearly 20 years ago when he took his young son for his first ride in a small airplane from Boeing Field, Seattle, an airport with special significance to three generations of his family. Wallace is director of the FAA Office of Accident Investigation, and is presently serving as a member of the board investigating the loss of the space shuttle Columbia. His son Baird, the little boy in the airplane, is now a Columbia University student and budding actor, having appeared on U.S. and Italian television and in Franco Zeffirelli's 1999 film Tea With Mussolini.
Sometimes it's better to be lucky than good. But if you're lucky and good, that's even better. A recent landing contest in a Boeing 737-800 showed the importance of having some of both. Two pilots competed, but only one walked away with the title (albeit completely unsanctioned and largely imaginary): Master of the Landing Universe. "If you can make pretty nice landings most of the time, it means you're flying the airplane by the book," says author Vincent Czaplyski, who captains the 737 for a major airline. "Perfect landings every time? You're either incredibly lucky — or lying!" (See " Turbine Pilot: Lucky Streak" on page 117 to find out which pilot won.)
"This is as close as I think I'll ever get to flying a T-38," says Associate Editor Julie K. Boatman. The changing nature of pilot qualifications for U.S. Air Force, Air Force Reserve, and Air National Guard positions leads Boatman to encourage pilots who dream of wearing military wings to pursue those goals even if they don't think they qualify. "If I would have known this was an option for me 10 years ago, I would have pursued the training. It's an incredible deal — but a lot of hard work." She discovered during her trip to Laughlin Air Force Base for this month's story, " Top Sun" on page 72, that she doesn't weigh enough for the ejection seat on the T-38 and couldn't take a familiarization ride in the USAF trainer. Instead, she rode along on a T-1A low-level mission and saw the base's new T-6 Texan IIs. "The ejection seat on the Texans allows for a greater range of pilot sizes. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll get up in one of them someday."