In more than 50 years of flying, Rudy DeRosa has flown in all conditions and all manner of missions — aerial firefighting, a crash into the China sea, as a fish spotter from Maine to the Gulf of Mexico — but in the many hours aloft, Rudy never forgot the flight "piloted" by Debby Freeman in October 1972.
At 76, DeRosa has more than 8,000 hours of flight time, surely enough to prove he loves to fly. His wife, Addie, received her instrument rating at the age of 65; his daughters Margherita and Dorothy were student pilots; and his son, the late Rudy Jr., soloed at 16 but later lost his life doing what he too loved best, flying.
That October in the early 1970s, Rudy Sr. flew with Addie in his Cessna 182 to Idaho, hoping to find a job firefighting flying a TBM. There were no openings in Idaho so Rudy continued on to Oregon, hoping to copilot a B-17 in firefighting missions there. No luck there either. In Medford, Oregon, Rudy and Addie stayed with friends, Jimmy and Linda Dew. The Dews introduced Rudy and Addie to their friends, the Freemans, and it would be in Medford that Rudy would experience the most memorable flight of his life.
Sitting in the dining room of the Freeman home drinking coffee, Rudy heard the school bus arrive outside. Seventeen-year-old Debby Freeman got off the bus, came into the house, hung up her coat, and followed the conversation into the dining room. At first Rudy did not realize that Debby could not see the plaid shirt he was wearing, or that his shoes were a little dusty, or that his glasses rode sharply on his nose above a well-developed mustache. And while Debby could not see these things about Rudy, he could see that even for her teenage years, Debby had a charm and enthusiasm that made her stand out in a crowd. He was intrigued by her happiness and self-confidence in an obviously dark world.
Debby had been blind since birth, but she had a heightened sense of life. The conversation was lighthearted, yet Rudy wondered what there was — if anything — that Debby wished she could experience that her sightlessness kept her from. Debby said she wished she could drive a car.
Ever fly an airplane? Rudy responded. No, said Debby, but I wish I could. Rudy decided then he was going to take Debby on her first flight — with her parents' permission, of course.
The weather was perfect the day Debby and her mother arrived at the airport. While Debby's mother's face reflected her hesitation, Debby's smile told her story. Rudy was undaunted by the look of hesitation on Debby's mother's face and escorted them out to the apron where his Cessna 182 was parked.
Before getting into the airplane, Rudy took Debby's right hand and let her "see" the airplane. He guided her hand over the spinner and the cold metal of the propeller, over the engine cowling, over the leading edge, and then over the trailing edge of the wing. He explained that the ailerons move up and down and are used for coordinating maneuvers to turn the airplane. Debby examined everything by touch. He put her hand on the door and the windshield, on the landing gear and the tires, the fuselage, the tail section, the elevator, and the rudder. He guided her hands up the right side of the Cessna so Debby could "see" the size and shape of the entire airplane. Once she was totally introduced to the outside of the airplane, it was time to "see" the cockpit.
Rudy helped Debby into the copilot seat. Again he took her hands, and he guided them over the instrument panel. He explained the function of each instrument. She memorized the location and touch of the altimeter, airspeed indicator, mixture control, and throttle. He asked her to stretch out her legs and feel the rudder pedals. He explained the width and length of the runway and she helped him through the checklist. They sat on the ground for more than an hour "seeing" the airplane.
Rudy had Debby push the throttle in, then back it off a little, to prepare to start the engine. Rudy turned on the master switch and with the starter engaged, the engine roared to life. He told Debby that they were going to taxi to the active runway to take off and Debby was going to help him. After a beautiful, easy takeoff into clear blue skies, they departed to the east about 30 miles. Rudy told Debby to pull back on the yoke to make the airplane rise, to push the yoke forward to have the airplane descend. After a few times of telling her gently to raise and lower the nose, Rudy was certain Debby was guiding the airplane's smooth performance. They turned to the left, to the right, then Rudy took his hands off the controls completely, leaving Debby solely at the helm. The airplane responded to her sensitive touch. Rudy then asked her to take him back to the airport.
Disbelief colored Debby's face. Was he crazy? Rudy turned the aircraft back to the airport. Debby was doing so well that he felt like the autopilot was turned on.
As they approached the airport, the tower gave them the clearance to land. With Rudy's hands backing up Debby's on the throttle, the pair made a perfect landing. They taxied to the parking area and Debby was thrilled — but no more so than Rudy.
Thirty years later it is this memory that still thrills Rudy DeRosa — that he helped a woman who lived in darkness see the beauty of flight.
Writer Chris Altizer, of Lewisburg, West Virginia, is Rudy DeRosa's niece. Rudy DeRosa is retired and lives in New Bern, North Carolina. Debby Freeman is now married and living in Washington.
Have you shared the joy of flight with someone special? We'd like to share your story. Visit the Web site ( www.aopa.org/members/memorableflights/) to post your story and read those of other members.
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