Musings: Our special day

But perhaps the real answer is in how we use our pilot certificate. Commercial aviators fly from Point A to Point B so that they can put food from Point A, the plate, to Point B, the mouth. Private pilots have more varied reasons for their hobby, including visiting family, going on vacations, and answering personal challenges.

Which leads to the second paraphrased question: Are pilots born as pilots or made to become pilots? As a child I often looked up at passing airplanes, while those around me never gave them a glance. Later, while “hangar flying” at our local airport, the group of pilots would stop all conversation as an aircraft made its departure, leading me to conclude there is something inherent in members of the aviation community that attracted us to this hobby.

I personally took to the air for the great sense of accomplishment achieved through piloting and as a means to unite the family. Hobbies such as golf or bowling tend to isolate the participant. Flying united my family not only by the flying itself, but also through the shared experiences after we arrived at our destination.

One exception: Our Special Day.

Once a year in summer, I would rent a two-seat Cessna 150 and let one son, Bob or Eric, pick out a destination. There were only three limitations: the fuel onboard, the size of a 6-year-old’s bladder, and the need to be home to our unlit field before dark.

A family functions as a unit, with each member playing a role within that unit. By separating the boys (my wife, Sandy, would treat the other son to his own ground-based Special Day), we would be able to give a 6-year-old a venue for airing his concerns, what he liked, and in general how life was treating him.

The trip would begin the day before with our preflight planning: reviewing destinations on a Chicago sectional chart that met the three criteria.

The following morning the youngster would help me examine the airplane—fastening seat belts and making sure doors were locked—before we saddled the 100 horses and taxied at Howell-Crestwood Airport (3HW, now a shopping center).

The boy would dutifully steer the 150 to the active runway by carefully turning the yoke left and right, despite not being able to see above the instrument panel. Years later the boys would learn that, like the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, things aren’t always what they seem.

Once at altitude, the youngster would take the controls, holding the wings and nose level in as much a tribute to Cessna design engineers as the skills of the young aviator.

These day jaunts provided many unforgettable experiences. Once the destination took us back a half-century when we stumbled upon Galesburg Airport (GBG) during the National Stearman Fly-In in a scene reminiscent of the King Kong movie set.

When one son discovered Lake Lawn Airport (C59) in Lake Delavan, Wisconsin, there was no further need to pick out another site. The flight from Chicago’s south suburbs took us along the Lake Michigan shoreline, over then-Meigs Field, below the tops of many downtown buildings. The flight provided views of Comiskey Park (home of the White Sox), Soldier Field (da Bears) and Wrigley Field (Cubs). And once we landed, the day’s guest of honor was treated to all that Lake Lawn Lodge had to offer by way of activities and food.

The boys are grown now and, like many of the airports mentioned, the special days are memories. Hidden in these memories is the fact that a family was brought a little closer together by separating its individual members.

Why do we fly? Sometimes it’s to travel to faraway places to experience what’s there. And sometimes it’s to experience more about what we love right near us.

Bob Paszczyk is a retired financial controller and pilot with 1,150 hours in 44 years of flying.