Aviationtown

Aviation spans the globe, yet being part of the flying community can feel like living in a small town. Everyone knows each other’s business. There are no secrets. And your reputation precedes you wherever you go.

My local airport isn’t far from some very large cities, yet it’s got many small-town attributes. There’s no need to lock hangar doors or toolboxes because neighbors are unfailingly honest. Fellow pilots tend to smile and wave because kindness and courtesy matter. And when someone needs a helping hand, friends are glad to provide it.

When I needed a lift recently from an airport almost 100 miles away, I simply phoned a friend, and he retrieved me in his Cirrus. When a hangar neighbor needed a replacement part from an airport on the other side of the state, I flew there and picked it up knowing he’d do the same for me, or just about anyone else.

One of the best parts of a small-town community is getting to interact with some of your heroes. Luminaries like R.A. “Bob” Hoover, Bud Anderson, Chuck Yeager, Burt Rutan, Mike Melvill, Alan and Dale Klapmeier, Sean Tucker, and Patty Wagstaff made it a point to spend time with people at aviation events, and that tradition remains.

If you’ve got a question about Van’s Aircraft, you can send founder Dick VanGrunsven an email, or meet him in person at an aviation event, and he’ll provide a candid response. If you want to know about what Phil Lockwood was thinking when he designed his totally original AirCam twin for National Geographic, drop by his booth at EAA AirVenture or Sun ’n Fun and he’ll tell you.

That’s extraordinary when you think about it.

Of course, living in a small town isn’t always easy.

Aviation is a small town but a mighty one.A few years ago, I sold my airplane to a buyer who seemed quite pleased with it and flew it often. Months later, however, a mechanical problem cropped up, and the buyer asked me to pay for the repairs. I didn’t think the mechanical problem existed at the time the airplane was sold, there was no warranty, and my inclination was to tell him he was on his own.

But I ended up paying for the repairs just to avoid any hard feelings. Reputations matter in small towns, and I didn’t want to tarnish mine. Even though I thought I was right on the merits, the buyer’s complaints would have been relentless.

Other imperfect aspects of life in Aviationtown include an unbecoming level of ethnic and economic homogeneity, an ever-present and rigid hierarchy, and a resistance to change.

Debates over engine leaning techniques, proper pattern entry procedures, leaded avgas, and other topics get tiresome—especially when so few are willing to change their minds. There’s also an off-putting sense of both entitlement and victimhood, seemingly self-contradictory faults that somehow coexist.

As much as I decry particular aspects of the aviation community, however, I’m also a product of it—and I take tremendous pride in it. That’s especially true when the community comes together for great causes such as disaster relief, medical missions, animal rescues, and youth education. And we all celebrate individual accomplishments.

I was recently reminded of the late Bruce Dickenson, a pilot and rancher in Santa Paula, California, who spent a decade producing an exquisite, one-of-a-kind aircraft of his own design. The Dickenson/Howard DGA–21 first flew in 2008, and it was exceptional in both appearance and performance, exactly matching his bold vision.

That kind of persistence and skill are rare in most endeavors, but, somehow, the qualities are widely shared among fliers.

It’s easy to feel beset at times by aviation’s litany of adversities. Yet each summer I’m blown away by the size, scope, and creative energy on display at EAA AirVenture. Talking to AOPA members on the flightline there, I typically come away believing that general aviation isn’t just OK. It’s invincible.

The talent, dedication, and shared commitment of the people who comprise the aviation community are irrepressible and inspiring. Even though we bicker and get on each other’s nerves, we simply accomplish too much together to ever let it go.

Aviation is a small town but a mighty one.