New Jersey pilot Ron Wiley went from pronouncing well-known aviation platitudes such as: "Flying is all there is -- isn't it?," to asking questions like, "Thirty-seven years really isn't too long to stay away from flying -- is it?" Now he knows.
Wiley had sibling motivation and a personal desire to learn to fly. As a boy he built lots of models and made miniature parachutes from bandanas and handkerchiefs. His father, Earl, had soloed a rag-wing Taylorcraft out of Cool Meadow Airport in Lexington, Kentucky, in 1949. His older brothers, Sherman and me, had earned pilot certificates as members of Armed Forces flying clubs, and continued commercial training on the GI Educational Bill after completing military service.
Name: Ron Wiley |
In 1961 Ron Wiley enlisted in the U.S. Air Force and was stationed at Castle Air Force Base in Merced, California, as a fire control technician on B-52 bombers. The following year he and some Air Force buddies visited a remote, dusty little airport in Atwater, California. After no more than 15 minutes of ground instruction, Wiley made a parachute jump from 2,500 feet in a "taped-up" Piper Tri-Pacer. He loved the experience.
The jump plane pilot also was the local airport manager and a certificated flight instructor. Within a week or so, Wiley took his first flying lesson in an Aeronca 7AC Champ. He soloed the Aeronca -- a hand-propped aircraft that had no radio -- after six hours and 15 minutes of dual instruction.
Wiley discovered that the Air Force's Strategic Air Command had an Aero Club at Macready Airport in Merced, very close to Castle AFB. There he progressed rapidly thanks to good club management and dedicated flight instructors. He obtained his private pilot certificate in less than a year, and by 1964, now discharged from the Air Force, he had added commercial and CFI ratings.
Now married with twin daughters, Wiley began to pursue a career in aviation, flying charter and giving flight instruction at Capital City Airport in Frankfort, Kentucky. Although he was invited to San Francisco for an interview with United Airlines, an influx of ex-military pilots to the job market and very long waiting lists for airline jobs did not portend well, and Wiley sidelined his dream of a flying career for a variety of sales jobs.
Despite a 37-year absence from flying, piloting an aircraft was never really out of his thoughts for long. Brother Sherman passed away in 1987 after a career that included stints as a crop duster and a corporate pilot flying a Beech King Air. His father, who had yearned to fly since Charles Lindbergh's solo Paris flight, died in 1992; he had flown more than 20 years before finally obtaining his private pilot certificate. I had gone on to log well over 17,000 hours as an ATP, with multiengine and seaplane ratings and helicopter certificate.
In August 2004, Wiley traveled from Freehold, New Jersey, to Lexington, Kentucky, to fly with me, his big brother Lowell. After 37 years, he was a tad rusty -- much more so than I had expected, but not more than Wiley himself had anticipated. "One imagines that after 37 years it might be possible to forget how to tie one's shoelaces, don't you think?" he asked me before that first flight.
He flew with me for 20 hours, dividing his flying time between a Civil Air Patrol Cessna 172 and a 182. I signed him off with a flight review and night currency and recommended him for a CAP Form 5 flight, an annual standardization flight that's conducted much like an FAA checkride. He passed that checkride as well as another he was given when he returned to New Jersey.
Now, at age 62, he is flying again in a constructive role for the CAP. He has enrolled in the CAP Emergency Services Mission Pilot School scheduled for July 2005. He is also studying for the instrument rating, plans to reinstate his flight instructor certificate, and wants to transition to gliders.
"It is never too late to fly again," Wiley says emphatically.
Lowell M. Wiley is a flight instructor and a captain in the Civil Air Patrol's Kentucky Wing.