Pilots: Al Richardson

Although he never pursued the higher-paying airline career, Al Richardson was often referred to as Captain Al, well-known by Dillingham’s Western Alaska Flight Service Station. His unmistakable tone of voice is as distinct as his different-colored eyes and, when he speaks, one had best listen. He does not waste any words.

Richardson is old enough to have corresponded with aviation authors Ernest Gann and Richard Bach while young enough to hunt for his own meat. As a son of a butcher, his knife-making skills complement his artistry in the air. He utilizes antlers and bones for the handles. He has gifted hundreds of knives to the people who have touched his heart. Some may consider him generous to a fault, although it partially sparks from his expectation that he would not live to an old age. He has experienced five in-flight fires and countless equipment failures over the course of 22,000 hours, including a gas cap that fell off during an aerobatic maneuver and total loss of radios in solid IFR. “A notable one was engine failure on downwind with landing on the dirt road by the ramp and then rolling to a stop at its regular tiedown spot,” he said.

He survived being ejected through the windshield of his PA–18, which left him hospitalized for more than three months. Despite the doctor’s doubts that he’d ever walk again, he healed enough to resume his career for another four decades.

Richardson flew for remote fishing lodges in western Alaska, where weather minimums held a meaning of their own. Fog, scud, and rainy skies made VFR (variable forward reference) a challenge. When he worked for fly-out fishing lodges, the pilot doubled as the guide. He managed to maintain his professionalism among the most demanding of clients. More than one pompous client or student ended up in the lake. Cooking up salmon on the beach was his job’s bonus.

Richardson considers the summers of flying de Havilland Beavers full of clients and fish his most magical years. He currently lives in high desert Nevada, and considers the greatest part of his legacy that so many of the pilots he trained now call Alaska home.