The weekly tradition started in the mid-’80s when Phillips suggested he and a few friends fly in formation to their favorite breakfast spot. “I did a basic formation briefing,” he says, and sketched their positions on the back of a napkin. During the requisite debrief, Phillips says he made the mistake of saying, “That was the damnedest gaggle that I’ve ever flown in.” To his chagrin, the “gaggle” moniker stuck. “It’s kind of demeaning. But it’s one of those things that got away. You can’t get it back,” he says. Today, the Spruce Creek Gaggle Flight has about 100 members. The Gaggle frequently performs fly-overs for Little League opening days, veterans’ events, honor flights, and city festivals—like Daytona Beach Jeep Week—and has been recognized with multiple proclamations.

A former fighter pilot, Phillips is accustomed to more precise formation flying. He retired from the Air Force in 1977 as a lieutenant colonel and became an aerospace consultant for Litton Industries, General Dynamics, and others. Phillips grew up in the 1940s and ’50s near Maule Field (3NP) in Napoleon, Michigan. At 12, he started working after school and weekends for Belford D. (B.D.) Maule, who invented a light tailwheel, operated a tool milling and sharpening shop, and built TV towers and antennas. Maule later developed his signature aircraft and moved his operation to Moultrie, Georgia. Working there, Phillips learned skills that he still uses today. “I call it people’s liberal arts education. I didn’t learn a lot in school, but I learned a lot at the airport.”

An advocate for the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA), for which he served as president of the Daytona Beach Chapter (No. 288) for nine years, he is as passionate about building aircraft as he is about flying them. An FAA Wright Brothers Master Pilot and Charles Taylor Master Mechanic, A&P/IA, and EAA technical counselor, he has built a Swearingen SX300, a Pitts Model 12, and a hybrid Wittman Tailwind/Nesmith Cougar. Phillips talked recently with FLYING about his passion for aviation, homebuilt aircraft, and his airpark community.

FLYING Magazine (FM): Describe your early pilot training experience at Maule Field?

Keith Phillips (KP): When you’re around an airport, you know, it’s like a farmer’s kid, you learn to drive by osmosis. You never remember really learning to drive. You’re expected to drive. It’s the same with flying. In those days, the GI Bill was a big thing for learning to fly. In ’46, ’47, ’48, every little town airport, they’d have a fleet of J3 Cubs, or Luscombes, or Taylorcrafts to teach GI Bill flying classes. That gave you ample opportunity to learn to fly. I actually learned to fly without a CFI. They’d [ad hoc instructors] get their GI Bill, they soloed and got their private and said, “Come on kid, help me with this and do that, and I’ll give you a ride in the airplane.” I had a student license but never was signed off.

FM: You have owned quite a few airplanes over the course of your lifetime. What was your first airplane?

KP: When I was a junior in high school, I bought a 1941 J4 Cub. But I, of course, didn’t have the money to buy it, so B.D. [Maule] bought it. It cost $400. I put in $200 and he put in $200 for Shirley, his daughter. She really didn’t have any interest in learning to fly and never did, so I ultimately bought her half out.

FM: What aviation mentors have had the biggest impact on you and how?

KP: I had a couple of schoolteachers who were World War II guys. I basically grew up with no father image; even though my mother got remarried, he was a stepdad and was brand new to me. One of the principals in the high school was a C-47 pilot in World War II [Gordon Smith]. Another teacher was a P-47 pilot [Mr. Goodrich]. They encouraged me. But if you did something stupid, they told you about it. I flew under some wires one time when we went to a football game over in one of the towns. Raymond [Maule] and I flew our airplanes over there and landed next to the athletic field, and when we left, I flew under these wires, and the principal saw that and he really chewed me out. They certainly had an influence on me, but nothing like B.D. [Maule]. He wasn’t a good mentor, but he created the environment that allowed me to fly. I wouldn’t have been able to buy the airplane without him. I was making 35 cents an hour; $400 was a big hit.

FM: As an older pilot (Phillips turned 88 in June), are there any challenges that you’ve had to adapt to?

KP: It’s a hell of problem with things like insurance. They told me last year, “Next year, you must have a pilot.” So, I wrote a little note back to them saying, “What am I?” In order to have my insurance valid, I have to have a pilot in the airplane with me that has 25 hours in type, and he’s got to be this and that, etc. So, in essence, if I’m flying my airplane without anybody on board, I’m not covered. That is the biggest impediment that I find. I feel that my skills are still good enough so that I’m safe.

FM: You’ve built three aircraft of your own, contributed to building countless others, and were honored in 2016 with the EAA Tony Bingelis Award for your contributions to the homebuilt community. Why do you champion homebuilts?

KP: I grew up on a farm and then later the airport, and I was always building or doing something with machinery. I have a passion for it. The flying and the building are fulfilling to me. You can be creative, and one thing that EAA has done is they have deployed a degree of standardization and so forth. Early on, there were some really bad homebuilt aircraft. But over the years, standards have come way up, and thanks to Van [Richard VanGrunsven].

FM: What inspired you to build your first airplane, the hybrid Wittman Tailwind/Nesmith Cougar?

KP: In 1956 or ’57, we were at the Rockford Air Show, and I got a first ride in a Wittman. By then, I was a lieutenant in the Air Force. I was in love with little airplanes. I went over there with B.D. [Maule] in his Bellanca. I had a ride in Bud Harwood’s Wittman Tailwind and I said, “This thing is a performing fool.” When you compared it to an average little airplane of that day, it was 40 to 50 knots faster. Prior to U.S. Air Force flying, I was used to J3/J4Cubs’ performance, and that Bellanca was a rocket, and it was still slower than that Wittman. I said, “Man, I gotta have one of these.” I liked that you could make changes, as long as they didn’t impact the airworthiness.

FM: Which of your homebuilt aircraft was the most challenging to build and why? What’s your favorite to fly?

KP: The SX300, by far. It’s a very complex airplane. It goes fast, it’s got a high wing and the gear retracts. Because it goes fast, it’s more rigid [and] it takes more work. And the way Ed [Swearingen] designed it. Ed’s a good designer, but he didn’t have the genius of Steve Wittman or Van. They build things simple. If you can do something with one piece where somebody else takes 10 to do it; like the landing gear [on a Van’s RV], there is nothing there but apiece of rod. The average homebuilder wouldn’t want to get into an SX300. The SX300 is my favorite [to fly]. It makes me feel like a fighter pilot. It goes fast, [and takes] very little effort to fly, cruis[ing] at about 265 knots.

FM: As a lifetime EAA member since 1959 and the former president of one of the largest EAA chapters (No. 288), what is the secret behind your chapter’s success?

KP: When I first got here [Spruce Creek] in 1985, I joined the chapter. They were having their meetings at Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in one of their academic rooms. It was only 15 to 20 people. And then we had meetings out here, hangar tours. We had twice as many people at the hangar tours as we’d have at the meetings. The chapter has 245 paid members and 425 on its roster.

FM: You’ve lived in Spruce Creek in Florida since 1985. What does the fly-in community mean to you?

KP: It’s kind of like heaven. They say when you die here, it’s a lateral move. If you’re an airport bum like I am, I just enjoy airplanes, I enjoy the people, I enjoy helping people, and it’s good flying.

• READ MORE: Paying It Forward

Quick 6

Who is the one person living or dead that you would most like to fly with?

Bob Hoover

If you could fly any aircraft that you have not yet flown, what would that be?

The F-22. It lives in a world of its own. It flies supersonic in military power.

What is one airport you love to fly into?

Umatilla Municipal Airport (X23). It’s a great bunch of people, and they have three airport cars so you can drive to the restaurants.

What do you believe has been aviation’s biggest breakthrough event or innovation?

The jet engine.

If you could build another airplane, what would it be?

Vans RV-15, but it’s not on the market yet. When not flying, I’d rather be…Building an airplane.

This article first appeared in the July 2023/Issue 933 print edition of FLYING.

The post In Depth with an ‘Airport Kid’ appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

The current 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization hosts 22 students, but it holds room for more at its base at the Salinas Municipal Airport (KSNS), south of San Jose, California. In partnership with the Monterey County Office of Education, the BHA is now an approved graduation path for high school students in the county. Though it targets the underserved populations in the community surrounding Salinas, any local student is eligible. Through the program, students work toward a private pilot certificate in a Cessna 152 and Redbird Flight Simulations FMX AATD, and go through ground school based on the Aircraft Owners and Pilots Association’s high school curriculum.

Tucker recently completed his extraordinary solo career in 2019 at the Wings Over Houston airshow. He made full closure by donating his Oracle Challenger III biplane—a custom machine tailored specifically so he could wow audiences with his latest figures. The lucky recipient? The world, really, as it now hangs at the entrance of the Thomas W. Haas We All Fly gallery at the Smithsonian National Air & Space Museum on the Mall in Washington, D.C. With the museum open to anyone, free of charge, the access to inspiration only requires you to visit in person—or online.

We caught up with Sean to connect the dots between his incredible career stunning audiences with his trademark “skydancing”—and to understand why his next act is even more important.

FLYING Magazine (FM): Your own story of becoming a top-tier aerobatic performer didn’t follow a straight path. What lessons from your early days stand out to you?

Sean D. Tucker (SDT): I am the most unlikely candidate to ever be in the Smithsonian Institution. I wasn’t good at anything. I had my uncle in my life until I was about 12, and then I lost my joy until I was about 17 years old. I ran away from home…went to juvenile hall. I didn’t get much joy smoking pot, or being in street fights—but thenI found flying. And the first time I took that airplane up and got above this earth, I had joy again.

My first airshow, I was 24 years old. My problem was that I was in a big hurry. And I didn’t have any mentors. My first crop dusting job [ended when I ground looped the airplane]. I remember hanging there, by the straps, and the gas is going onto the engine and just burning. I lost it. 

And I didn’t give up on being dumb. [I was scraping a living to perform in airshows]. I was getting paid $500 to do the show—in 1970, I was already married, and not making a lot of dough, so 500 bucks to make the airplane payment was huge. I told the guy I could do 32 inverted flat spins. I failed to recover from the spin, and I lost my dream. When I finally got out of the airplane I was below 1,000 feet, my parachute opened when I was maybe 200 feet above the ground, and I saw where my body was going to be, and that was it. Here I am, a total failure as an airshow pilot, barely making a living as a crop duster, I’m married, I’ve got a wife who’s been believing in me, and it’s all about me. And I had to stop.

I found mentors who helped me realign with my real purpose. I paid $32,000 for [the next airplane] and I wasn’t going to screw that up, so I found mentors. Charlie Hilliard. Wayne Handley. I joined the IAC [International Aerobatic Club]. Went to about 14 amateur contests. Became the national champion in the advanced category—with that mission alone, to get that trophy, to set my providence. Because I accepted my responsibility and what it means to be an airshow performer—if I hurt myself I traumatize that audience, and if I kill myself, I ruin kids’ dreams.

FM: You made the decision to step away from solo performance after the 2018 season. What triggered that?

SDT: [Flying in an airshow], it’s the Indianapolis 500, it’s the Fourth of July all rolled into one, and they’re there all day with their families, celebrating freedom and watching us fly. We inspire them, we thrill them, we educate those people. [However,] we don’t have a normal day…we don’t have a normal life.

I needed to finish this journey because my gut told me it was finished. I really never had—in all the years I was performing in the arena—a close call because of the wayI train now and the mentors I had. Flying that airplane 500 times a year, 20 minutes at a time. To learn that airplane, doing three a day, to be ready so that when I’m in front of the audience, I’m at my level best. I know that airplane from the bottom of my heart. And it’s all right—until it goes wrong. [After 42 years of an airshow career], I love the practice; I love getting into the arena. If I didn’t have something to look forward to as a skydancer, I would be so depressed. I’m finishing my solo career so I can start another, and that really excites me.

FM: One of your mentors was legendary pilot R.A. “Bob” Hoover. How did he inspire the Bob Hoover Academy?

SDT: The men and women in this business really do care; they honor that privilege. Any time we hurt ourselves, it takes away somebody’s dream. All the years in the arena, I never had a close call because of the mentors I had—like Bob. We strive to incorporate Bob’s character traits into the academy and with our students: commitment to excellence, tenacity and grit, humility, reverence (for opportunity, for aviation, for life, for humanity), optimism, education, service, and patriotism. A few months before his passing, we asked Bob if we could rename the academy in his honor.

FM: Tell me the origin story of the BHA, and why it’s so powerful in the lives of these young people.

SDT: At the time when we started this project, [Salinas was] equal to Chicago in kid-on-kid deaths; gangland shootings. Every Kid Can Fly was born with an initial offering of flight training for students at Rancho Cielo (an alternative high school program). The time available after school was limited, so a revolutionary administrator at Monterey County Office of Education (MCOE) stepped in to form a transportation-pathway, diploma-earning high school classroom in January 2016. The results—the transformation in kids’ lives—speak for themselves. “My struggles, they do not define me, they make me stronger. Someone believed in me, and taught me to fly.” That’s from Manny, whose brother was murdered. Another student, Diego, wouldn’t look you in Jeff Berlin (all) the eyes. Now he’s a Marine Corps drill instructor.

FM: What is your greatest achievement so far with the BHA?

SDT: To honor my mentors who took me under their wings. [I took aerobatic instruction from] Amelia Reid—I had about 50 hours of flight time in the early 70s, and I was scared to death of banking an airplane too steeply. I was scared to death of stalling an airplane. I would panic at the controls. When you panicat anything, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. She opened the door for me and gave me a 10-hour aerobatic course, and that was it. I had a purpose. I got to live on the Z-axis. Now we have our own high school, our own campus. See all the adults at the academy? All those adults are putting time in and believing in these kids. Igot Bob Hoover looking at my kids. All God wants us to do is leave this world a better place.

FM: How do you see the BHA serving the local community, and how does it work for the kids who get involved, in their lives? How can you broaden its reach?

SDT: I’ve worked 10 years with this public/private partnership, getting students to the point where they can fly—just because the instructor says they can fly, we have a process to ensure they’re ready. I have another volunteer instructor fly with the student, then they go fly with me, and I’m just using all my experience as an airshow evaluator. Remember, these are children, and children’s brains aren’t developed [completely], but these children have some significant milestones they have to get over just to become ready to solo, where your nephew, or your son, or your friend have loving parents, and they can speak about their fears.

Currently, our enrollment is at 22 full-time students, and our capacity for the campus is 40 students. The curriculum is getting them to graduate from high school on an alternative education level, so they don’t thrive academically. They’re smart, they just don’t have the tools, and we’re starting to give them those tools. These are significant baby steps [for children from disadvantaged backgrounds]. And when we mesh the two kids together—kids from loving families, kids that have struggling families—I think it’s going to change the whole equation. And then we can take the template nationwide.

FM: Can you share with us a couple of the gems that Bob Hoover passed on to you?

SDT: ‘Sean, you keep flying that low and that slow, and you’re gonna bust your buttons,’ Bob Hoover once told me. I did not fly that particular maneuver that low or that slow again. Bob Hoover told me a long time ago, ‘Sean, you fly it as far into the wreck as you can—and miss the trees.’ So I can credit Bob with that one, too.

Quick 6

Who’s the one person living or dead that you would most like to fly with? Leo Loudenslager

If you could fly any aircraft that you have not yet flown, what would that be? Lancair Legacy

What is one airport you love to fly into? My favorite airshow venue and airport is Sussex, New Jersey.

What do you believe has been aviation’s biggest breakthrough event or innovation? The industry’s commitment to safety 

What was your favorite airplane to perform in? The Oracle Challenger III, now upside down at the NASM 

When not flying, I’d rather be...I love hiking big, beautiful mountains around the world.

This article was originally published in the March 2023 Issue 935 of  FLYING.

The post Paying It Forward appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

FLYING Magazine (FM): When do you first remember developing a love of airplanes?

Brian J. Terwilliger (BJT): I grew up watching the Blue Angels, building and flying model planes, and turning the walls of my childhood bedroom into an aviation shrine. As a boy, I watched my first IMAX film at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum in Washington, D.C., and little did I know then that my passion for airplanes would culminate in a career in aviation filmmaking. It was a life-fulfilling moment to return a couple of decades later to premiere Living in the Age of Airplanes in the same IMAX theater!

FM: What is the backstory on how One Six Right moved from idea to production? Was there one instance, conversation, or lucky break that made that film a reality?

BJT: I learned to fly at the Van Nuys Airport (KVNY). The movie started out as a love letter to my home airport but evolved into a story about the value and struggle of all GA airports. After the idea was born, I reached out to the VNY public affairs office for support and access. Tomy surprise, I was met with heavy resistance. I suppose they didn’t believe that I was actually going to focus on the positive! In the end, the airport became a great ally to the film—but it took years.

FM: You have just remastered One Six Right for Blu-ray—tell us about that project.

BJT: One Six Right was filmed using the Panavision/Sony F900 1080/24p digital cinema camera, and because of the technical limitations of DVDs in that era, less than 20 percent of the camera’s resolution could be displayed. We remastered the film so the full 1080p image could be experienced on an HDTV. It took two about six months full time to rebuild the film shot-by-shot using the original HDCAM source tapes. We overlaid the full HD resolution shots over the DVD version and matched the images, frame for frame. After color correction and digital enhancement using the latest software, the result is a stunning version that looks surprisingly modern.

FM: How long did it take to shoot, edit and secure distribution for both of your documentaries?

BJT: Altogether, it took five years to make One Six Right, and six years to make Living in the Age of Airplanes. They were both extraordinary undertakings, but equally rewarding. I led the efforts from fundraising to marketing and everything in between, though more than 500 people were instrumental in making the two films. Countless decisions were made daily that ultimately resulted in less than two hours on-screen.

FM: Describe how the deal with National Geographic came together that leveraged your crew’s ability to travel to shoot the scenes for Living in the Age of Airplanes?

BJT: National Geographic wasn’t actually involved with the making of the film—I raised the film financing independently and shot it on all seven continents years before NatGeo ever saw it. By making the film without a distributor or release date, I was able to retain complete creative freedom to tell the best version of the story. The message and imagery of the film were a natural fit for NatGeo, and I was thrilled to partner with them as the distributor for the IMAX release in 50 cities worldwide.

FM: What sort of logistical challenges were encountered along the way?

BJT: Documentaries typically have small crews, but since this film didn’t include any on-camera interviews, we didn’t need lighting technicians or even a sound recordist. When traveling to 18 countries over a yearlong period, each additional crew member represents an extraordinary amount of additional money for airfare, lodging, food, etc. The magic formula was a crew of four, including me. The logistics were quite complicated, dealing with foreign languages, interpreters, government agencies, and complex permits for ancient and spiritual sites, gaining access to the Louvre, etc.

FM: In Living in the Age of Airplanes, was that your creative vision to create stunning imagery, or just good luck?

BJT: Our goal was to capture the most stunning images possible! The secret—besides a talented crew and the best equipment—was patience and persistence. We often shot the same subject on multiple days and during different times of day until we got what we were looking for. I set very high standards, and my appetite for great images was insatiable.

FM: Describe the coordination involved in both films between your crew and the pilots flying the subject airplanes. How much did safety play into your decisions?

BJT: Safety is always first. The most important goal in every aerial photo mission is arriving back safely. If we got good shots, that’s a bonus. We’re making a movie—no shot is worth an unnecessary risk, and we plan accordingly. I always create shot lists before a shoot, and even more so with aerials. In the case of air-to-air, everything is briefed beforehand and all questions are addressed on the ground. During the flying sequences, I sit in the backseat of the helicopter with a monitor, and there is constant communication between myself, the pilot, the director of photography, and the pilots flying the subject aircraft. It’s a creative ballet in the air.

FM: Following a bouquet of flowers from the grower in Kenya to the wholesale market in Amsterdam to a vase in Alaska in just over 17 hours in Living in the Age of Airplanes was brilliant. How did the idea come together?

BJT: Airplanes not only take us places far and fast, but they also bring the world to us. Of all the things that travel by air, flowers made the most striking example of a time-sensitive product. The logistics were completely authentic down to the FedEx delivery of the Kenyan flowers in Anchorage, Alaska.

Quick 6

Who’s the one person living or dead (or fictional) you would most like to fly with? 

Pete Mitchell

If you could fly any airplane or helicopter you have not yet flown, what would that be? 

The space shuttle

What is one airport you’ve always wanted to fly into?

An aircraft carrier

What do you believe has been aviation’s biggest breakthrough event or innovation?

Astounding reliability and safety of jet-powered airplanes

What is one important life lesson learned from being a filmmaker?

The power of determination and perseverance

When not shooting a film, I’d rather be…

Traveling and collecting new experiences

This article was originally published in the February 2023 Issue 934 of FLYING.

The post Capturing the Essence of Flying appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

An example of her determination and willingness to adapt to challenges was her 2014 appearance at the World Advanced Aerobatic Championships. She was sharing a CAP 332SC with others in her group, and when it came time for her to compete, the airplane broke down and could not be repaired. Faced with elimination, she welcomed the generosity of an Italian competitor who loaned her his CAP 232. Her mantra of “be bold, be daring” carried her to fourth place in that program—and seventh overall, and first woman overall—despite competing in an unfamiliar airplane she had never flown.

Based in the Alpilles region of Provence in southern France, Astles has found success with competition aerobatics, and also as a race pilot on the Red Bull Air Racing Circuit, where in 2017, she won the event portion held at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

Astles shared with FLYING how she got to this place, and what she does to maintain her competitive edge.

FLYING Magazine (FM): Your record of achievements indicates you’ve always pushed hard towards your goals and persevered through any challenges you faced. Tell us about your work ethic.

Mélanie Astles (MA): If I had to quote keywords to define my work ethic, those words would be passion, determination, and boldness. I focus on my target, clear away the limiting beliefs, and make a plan to go after it. This way, I can change negative beliefs into positive thinking. I abide by Nelson Mandela’s saying that you either win or you learn. My philosophy is that challenges make you stronger, and failures are incentives to make you progress.

FM: We all know aerobatics competition is extremely strenuous on the human body. How do you condition yourself to handle the G loads of this type of flying?

MA: “A great mind in a healthy body” could be my motto. My physical conditioning is intense, with workouts virtually every day and coaching several times a week. Breathing and abdominal exercises are very important to sustain the G loads, and I recently took up yoga, boxing, and stretching. In aerobatics, mental preparation is just as important as physical preparation.

FM: Does your preparation regime for aerobatics extend to your diet?

MA: I don’t follow a strict diet, because as is everything in life, it should be pleasurable. I eat healthy food regularly but occasionally won’t say no to a pizza, a hamburger, or a drink of champagne.

FM: Walk us through your pre-competition preparations. Do you have methods to eliminate outside life stresses from your mind so you can focus on the demands of the routine?

MA: I guess my best friend is music. Before a competition, I like to be by myself with my headphones listening to my favorite music, oblivious to everything else. At that moment, I am already in the air. In aerobatics, mental preparation is essential. I recently had an insight into hypnosis and learned some basics of autohypnosis, which is sometimes practiced by people, like Bertrand Piccard, who have trained themselves to use autohypnosis for short periods of restorative sleep.

FM: Describe the precision it takes to become a successful Red Bull Air Race (now Air Race World Championship series) pilot. What is the focus like, and what margin of error do you have to maintain to excel?

MA: In aerobatics, we have to perform figures in a limited area, and we are given marks by several judges, very much like ice skating. The difference with air racing is that we compete against the clock, so we are judged on speed. Along the runs, we have to find the best track trajectory, avoid penalties, and preferably not hit a gate.The concentration needs to be maximum because the run is only about 1 minute, so precision is essential, as we fly at nearly 400 km per hour very close to the ground or water. The margin of error is nil.

FM: As a woman, have there ever been times in your career when there were indications that the men around you doubted your skill and determination?

MA: When I was touring with the Red Bull Air Races, I was rather welcomed by the men, everybody was kind and helpful to me. The one problem [I had] was maybe with the media. As the only woman in the sport, I attracted the media, and some of the males resented that, which is a bit understandable. I did not have this feeling of sexism with the other pilots and believe strongly that they saw me as a pilot and not as a woman pilot. And I guess from my results, everybody realized I was not just a pretty face, but was there for fighting and winning!

FM: Throughout your bio and blog posts on your site, you use the word “happiness” frequently. Is flying your happy place?

MA: I always wanted to fly, and when I started flying at 21 years old, the exhilaration was even stronger than I had anticipated. Reaching the sky where I knew I belonged was an intense experience. What other word but “happiness” could I use? My motto of  “Smile On” started when I flew my first Red Bull Air Race in Spielberg, Austria, because I just could not believe this was happening to me. I had a permanent smile on my face, even during my runs. When we get on the course, the clock starts when you hear “Smoke On,” which immediately became “Smile On” for me, and that has remained ever since. It is my peaceful cry which I would like to hear throughout the world.

FM: Tell us about the personal relationship you have with F-HMEL, your Extra 330SC.

MA: F-HMEL is indeed very special to me. When I started competing in aerobatics, I shared airplanes. When I wanted my first airplane, the banks refused to lend me the money. But thanks to the help of one of my sponsors, who helped me build a case with the bankers and stood security for me, I was able to buy F-HMEL, and it has been with me through many competitions. 

FM: Tell us about being an ambassador to the Pima Air and Space Museum in Arizona. What is the importance you place on inspiring young people to become involved in flying?

MA: I am very proud to represent the Pima Air and Space Museum internationally, because it is one of the most beautiful museums I have ever seen. The Pima staff and I share many common values and want to inspire people to join the aviation world by making it feel accessible. I love promoting the museum, it is just so natural for me because the history found there highlights the values I defend.

Quick 6

Who’s the one person living or dead you would most like to fly with? Someone who is dreaming of flying but can’t.

If you could fly any airplane or helicopter, what would that be? The F-15 Eagle, because it’s my favorite fighter.

What is one airport you’ve always wanted to fly into? Oshkosh (KOSH).

What do you believe has been aviation’s biggest break-through event or innovation? Breaking the sound barrier.

What is one important life lesson you’ve learned from being an aerobatic competitor? It is not so much what I do in competition, it is who Ibecome through competing.

When not flying, I’d rather be… Learning new things

The post Melanie Astles Reflects on Perseverance and Precision appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

As a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the United States Air Force’s most senior uniformed officer, Gen. Charles Q. Brown Jr. is responsible for the organization, training and equipping of 689,000 active-duty National Guard, Reserve and civilian forces serving in the US and overseas. A military adviser to the secretary of defense, Security Council and president, Gen. Brown is the kind of a leader that knows true leadership is much more than just giving orders.

Throughout his career, Brown has ascended up through the ranks of the Air Force after being called upon to command a fighter squadron, the US Air Force Weapons School, two fighter wings, and the US Air Forces Central Command while amassing 2,900 flying hours—130 of them in combat. Through it all, Brown drew upon his pragmatic view of military service and human interaction to develop a personal skill set built around knowing his strengths and weaknesses.

“I subscribe to the belief that you must lead yourself before you can lead others,” Brown says. “I’m also a big fan of knowing the difference between your superpower and your kryptonite, which will contribute to your leadership style with the Airmen that you have the privilege to lead. Everyone has a superpower, something that defines who they are, and today’s Air Force leaders need to be able to identify these special attributes within their ranks to build teams with varied skills to engage successfully while countering their kryptonite.”

One of Brown’s superpowers is the ability to remain empathetic as a leader, to humanize who he leads. “I am an avid reader of materials presented to me, so I can understand varied viewpoints, and I like to engage in conversations that allow me to see something from a different perspective. The end result is that while we have to get the mission done, if we don’t take care of our Airmen and their families, the mission will falter. That is probably the most important part about leadership in the Air Force—Airmen want to know that their leaders care,” he says.

Brown didn’t just luck his way to the top; he worked hard to develop the kind of personal attributes one needs to be a leader. “I believe we are all moldable clay, and leaders are grown, although it takes more than having the right character traits and personality to be grown into a leader,” Brown says. “Personally, I am a strong believer in the power of maintaining relationships—not waiting to cold call in a crisis but to engage with others with no purpose other than to ask how they are doing. Staying connected is a great way to demonstrate care across all of your personal and professional relationships. Becoming a leader takes more than developing the right character traits; it takes nurturing, mentorship and role models because achieving success takes help, but failure you can do alone.”

While serving as the Air Force’s top officer today, at the core of Brown’s service is his flying career. He’s flown 17 different Air Force fixed-wing and rotary aircraft, but he’s biased toward the F-16A/B/C/D because those are what he flew the most in both training and combat. “There are so many times that I felt as if I was one with the F-16, and as a result, I was very confident in my abilities to fly and engage in most any situation,” he says.

Read More Pilot Profiles: In Depth

There is, however, one particular airplane that Brown would love to command. “The Tuskegee Airmen hold a special place in my heart. I recently had the opportunity with two Tuskegee Airmen to talk to Air Force Academy and ROTC cadets, and one of the questions asked was: If I could fly any plane that I haven’t flown, what would it be? Hands down, that would be the P-51 Mustang with a Red Tail,” Brown said.

Brown identifies similarities between his career and that of the Tuskegee Airmen. “I’ve been in situations where I also had to rise above,” Brown says. “There have been moments in my career that were challenging as one of very few African Americans flying fighters, or as one of few African American senior officers. I always wanted to be judged by the level of my performance and the content of my character as an officer and fighter pilot in comparison to my peers, and not viewed solely as an African American officer and fighter pilot. In the vast majority of the Air Force career fields, our adversaries operate and respond the same regardless of the race, gender or ethnic origin of our Airmen.”

With a constant eye on improving diversity in the Air Force, Brown sees opportunity in the underserved and inner-city communities of our country. It is not uncommon, he says, for Air Force recruiters to see bright young men and women of color, who could be developed into valuable aviators, enter recruitment offices, but whose families didn’t have the funds to pay for private pilot training to get them started. “That needs to change,” Brown says. “Thirty years ago when I started flying, only 2 percent of our pilot population was African American. Three decades later, it is still that same percentage—just two. I believe we could be doing a better job of providing young people from diverse backgrounds the opportunity to be bitten by the aviation bug earlier in their lives—because people aspire to be what they’ve been exposed to.”

The career profile of Gen. Brown is filled with examples of what you can accomplish when you subscribe to the philosophy that you must lead yourself first. Throughout his ascension to the top of the USAF, Brown set goals and met them, considering challenges as something to be used as a personal motivation tool. By leading himself, he’s achieved the kind of military success as a pilot and officer that has earned him deep respect.

In his current role as the Air Force’s top officer and a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Brown says his job is to “make sure that we stay competitive enough that we don’t go to war, but if that moment comes…we are far enough ahead that our adversaries cannot keep up.” By spreading his brand of leadership down through the ranks, it’s clear that we are in good hands when it comes to the Air Force.

This story appeared in the June/July 2021 issue of Flying Magazine

The post True Leadership from Gen. Charles Brown appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Aviation has always been a dream and interest in my life. I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, not too far away from John F. Kennedy International Airport (KJFK). I used to wake up to airplanes screaming out of the airport every single morning as child before I got ready for school.

One morning, I noticed the sound was different—it wasn’t the usual growl. This sounded like it had some speed to it, so I ran to my back window. When I looked, I saw a dartlike airplane that howled by, followed by a loud bang. That aircraft was known as Concorde.

At this point, I was hooked; I wanted to be in aviation without a doubt. When it was time for high school, I had to make a list of which high schools I was interested in, with my top choice first. (That’s the way it is within the New York City public school system.) Going through the book, I saw Aviation High School in Queens, and I was sold. I figured in order to start my journey as a pilot, that was where I had to go. I put the school at the top of my list and was accepted as a student.

I went to the school for freshman orientation, and I realized it was a school that made aircraft technicians, not pilots. I was a bit disappointed, but I still had an opportunity to be a part of the aviation industry and contribute, which I was OK with. High school was fun—not many teenagers get a chance to work with heavy machinery and play with welding torches and jet engines.

Upon graduation at 18 years old, I was a qualified aircraft maintenance technician with an airframe and powerplant certificate. It felt surreal. I couldn’t believe that, at such a young age, I could work on airplanes. What made it even crazier was that I was hired by a major airline to be an aircraft maintenance technician at the airport where the dream started, John F. Kennedy airport.

I started my career in the cabin—fixing seat backs, overhead bins and changing carpets. I then moved on to line maintenance, where I worked on engines, landing gear and numerous other items. I had the best time of my life there learning and just having fun. I eventually transferred to Atlanta, where I held other positions in maintenance.

While I was working in Atlanta, I had a callout to address an issue on an aircraft. When I got up there, the captain looked at me and said: “You’re a pretty young-looking guy. Have you ever thought about flying?” My answer while laughing was, “A long time ago—not anymore.” I saw this same captain two more times within the next two months, and he’d ask the same thing. I finally broke down and expressed my interest in an introductory flight, and we exchanged numbers.

He set me up with my first intro flight at Henry County Airport (KHMP) in Hampton with a friend of his who was an instructor, and the rest was history. I ended up earning my private, instrument, commercial, multiengine and, finally, CFI ratings in the span of a little more than 3 years.

Read More: In Depth

After I got my private, I spent time just flying and enjoying it, taking a break from all the studying and written exams. I wanted to share my newfound love and passion with friends and family, hoping to ignite a fire in them to want to do the same thing. When I was ready to continue my journey, I started pursuing my instrument rating.

The instrument was a tough one, so much information to process. In my training, I was discouraged a few times and actually began to feel like I was in way over my head on this one. I had to really engulf myself in it for it to click. This required nonstop studying and videos to help. Surprisingly, I started having the time of my life learning how to shoot approaches and holds and pick up IFR clearances.

When it was time for my instrument check ride, I failed my first time around. Nervousness got the best of me, and I forgot to look up at the runway when the designated pilot examiner called it in sight. Unfortunately, I became so fixated on flying the ILS approach and completely had a brain fart. I was absolutely devastated—but I just accepted it, got back in the saddle, got together with my CFI and scheduled another check ride. I passed that time around, and I felt like a genius because instrument flying is such a challenge.

I moved on to the commercial license. It was a blast building and fine-tuning the information I had already acquired. Some of the commercial maneuvers were challenging, but it eventually came together. Becoming a commercial pilot was gratifying because I could actually get hired to fly, and that was a fantastic feeling, to say the least. I sat and pondered multiengine training for a while because it can be pretty expensive. The thing was, I wanted to make myself more marketable as a pilot, so I went forward with it and earned my multiengine add-on rating.

At this point, becoming a CFI was an obvious decision for me. Already being a maintenance instructor for my day job, I felt teaching was in my blood. Plus, if you know me personally, you know that I like to talk. But interestingly, the hardest thing about becoming a CFI during training was talking out loud while flying. I was used to things just happening; to fly and explain was different but a lot of fun. Being a CFI now allows me to follow through if someone has an interest in flying. I can take them on as a student and make them into another pilot, which is an absolute blessing.

Recently, I’ve had an interest in aerobatics, and I bought an American Champion Decathlon to train in. I’m not sure where it will take me, but it’s exhilarating to fly aerobatics. I went to Greg Koontz’s two-day basic aerobatic course. If you have a Decathlon and want to learn how to tame it, he’s definitely the man to see.

Moving forward, I’d like to continue to promote the enjoyment in aviation and be an ambassador in the industry. By using my Instagram and newly started YouTube channel, I hope I can encourage the passion in someone to get in the air. I also go back to my high school in New York and connect with the students there—they need that representation.

Flying has been a dream since I was a little boy looking out my back window in Brooklyn, and now I’m living it. In the area I grew up in, aviation wasn’t a thing, and nobody talked about it. Being an African American, representing my community is imperative because then they know they can pursue aviation. I still meet individuals who tell me that I’m the first Black pilot that they have met. That simply tells me that I have more work to do in spreading the joy of the wonderful world of aviation.

This story appeared in the January-February 2021 issue of Flying Magazine

The post The Journey from MX to CFI appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

A few years ago, I strolled a back alley in Volterra, Italy, and stumbled upon a cluttered workshop where craftsmen were sculpting large chunks of alabaster into gorgeous works of art. Every surface wore a light coating of fine alabaster dust probably dating back to the 16th century. The worn hand tools and the techniques the artisans were using looked as if they had been passed down through the generations—relics from a time when the elders taught their children the family trade and those children taught their children.

The passing of an artisan’s skills from one generation to the next has always been a time-honored tradition meant to ensure that a family’s legacy is preserved far into the future. This philosophy is very much intact at Felts Field (KSFF) in Spokane, Washington, where Addison Pemberton is passing not only the skills, techniques and passion for restoring golden-age antique airplanes down to his son Ryan Pemberton, but also the valuable life lessons that assure success for the next generation.

Anyone with an interest in antique aircraft from aviation’s golden age has most likely seen the work of Pemberton and Sons Aviation at a museum or an airshow. The most visible is the 1928 Boeing 40C that the Pembertons restored into what many believe is the most beautiful example of a restored airplane of the era. The 40C is now owned by the Western Antique Aeroplane and Automobile Museum in Hood River, Oregon. The family is currently working on their 21st rebuild or full restoration, a 1930 Travel Air 4000.

The skills needed to take nothing more than a data plate and a basket of reclaimed parts and turn it into a gorgeous flying museum piece have not changed from the early days of aviation. The masters that can complete this feat of incredible determination are a rare breed, estimated by Addison to be only about 100 in the US. While many people can build airplanes, it takes a multitalented genius to break these huge, yearslong projects into bite-size pieces.

The skills required to bring golden-age airplanes back to life are not taught in any school; they have to be hard-wired into a person’s soul. Artisans like Addison and Ryan have had their talents nurtured from a very young age. Both of these Pembertons were shop kids lucky enough to have elders who would teach basic safety around power tools and then stand back and let a child’s imagination drive the train.

“My father was an inventor, and we’ve owned a manufacturing company my whole life,” Addison says, “so I grew up in the machine shop and got handed an acetylene torch when I was 8 years old and told to not burn the building down. Myself and my buddies had free run of the milling machines and lathes and, of course, built all sorts of go-karts and minibikes. My father’s attitude was to treat us as adults, which instilled a great deal of confidence in us as young boys. But with the freedom in the shop came the responsibilities to learn correct techniques and practice safety.”

Read More from Dan Pimentel: In Depth

Years later, after Addison had moved Scanivalve—the family business—to Spokane, he brought his son Ryan in the shop at an early age. “One of the greatest things that my dad did for me was to treat me like I was capable of learning and developing,” Ryan explains. “He got that from my grandfather, and I hope to treat my kids the same way. I grew up in a shop where I had two experienced, knowledgeable guys—my dad and my grandfather—who were there to invest in me and allow me to try my hand at anything. I was running a lathe making parts when I was 11 years old, not because I was a wonder child but because my grandfather had the patience and the willingness to teach me proper techniques. When I was 13 years old, my dad supplied me with a TIG welding torch and all the equipment. There was never a question if I would be involved in aviation; it was just a question of what my involvement would look like.”

Addison explains that there wasn’t a particular time when the torch was passed to Ryan—it was a purely natural progression. “Literally from the time he could walk, Ryan grew up watching the shop environment. In high school, he began to show a keen interest in working with metal, so we bought him an English wheel…his skills on compound-metal work and welding surpass me these days.”

Today, Pemberton and Sons is comprised of Addison and Ryan, plus Addison’s wife, Wendy, son Jay and a team of volunteers. “I call Wendy my ‘cover girl,’” Addison says. “She does all our fabric work and is well-versed in all the covering processes. Jay is a 14,000-hour pilot for a major cargo airline but helps us with assembly and maintenance, plus flying everything we have, including the 40C at WAAAM.”

Addison and Ryan agree that within each restoration project, there are a number of challenges that must be overcome. “The thing I like about restoring golden-age antique airplanes is that, in so many cases, you can’t just call an 800 number and give them a credit card and have the part show up,” Addison says. “We’ve got to build the part from scratch, which means going back and putting ourselves in the original designer’s head. And oftentimes we’ve got to come up with tooling to do so. That is the challenge we really enjoy, and I am now able to give my son Ryan a set of drawings from the 1920s, and he can make that part equal to or better than new.”

As this article was being written, Ryan was flying the family’s trusty Cessna 185 to the Antique Airplane Association’s annual fly-in held in Blakesburg, Iowa. Addison uses this event as a gauge for what the future holds regarding the restoration and preservation of golden-age airplanes. “If you go to Blakesburg, you’ll see a lot of gray-haired guys, but you’ll also see a lot of 20-somethings that are interested in learning the craft. Because the majority of the people doing this work are more than happy to pass on what they know to the next generation, I feel confident that the skills required to keep the old stuff flying will not be lost,” Addison says.

This story appeared in the December 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post The Pembertons and the Golden Age of Aviation Artistry appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

Imagine this scenario: You jump in your family airplane and depart into a clear blue sky. You’d have to stay aloft for 4.25 years to match the 37,200 hours in flight instructor Field Morey’s logbook. And you’d have to seek out the worst weather along the way to experience what Field has flown through in the almost six decades he’s been teaching his fortunate students to fly on instruments.

Field comes from one of aviation’s well-known families. His father, Howard Morey, was born in 1903, the same year the Wright brothers first flew at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. Howard took his first airplane ride in 1918, and not long after, he began teaching others to fly in a war-surplus Curtiss JN-4 Jenny. In 1927, the elder Morey even flew with Charles Lindbergh in Spirit of St. Louis when Lindy stopped by Pennco Field, Wisconsin, the flying field Howard had built.

The generational lineage of the Morey family is evident at Middleton Municipal Airport (C29), which was built as Morey Airport in 1942. Field’s son, Richard, and daughter, Debbie, still operate Morey Airplane Company as the airport’s FBO, and for about as long as there have been general aviation airplanes flying in Wisconsin, you could find a Morey flying one of them, generally always Cessna products.

Field first soloed in the family Cessna 195 at the age of 14, signed off by his father/CFI while on a family vacation in Mexico, where there was no age limit for solo. He soon earned his private pilot license and, with a fresh commercial rating, started flying charters at age 19. Field was headed directly to the airlines as a pilot until a conversation with his father—an airline executive at the time—changed that trajectory.

“I wanted to be an airline pilot,” Field says, “but on a fishing trip in Montana, my dad talked me out of it. He told me I’d be flying the same routes with a different copilot every day, and urged me to stay at the family airport and get my instructor rating because working with student pilots who enjoyed what I was teaching them would give me a lot of satisfaction. Two years later, at the age of 22, I earned my limited flight instructor and LFI instrument ratings, passing both check rides in one day.”

Today, Field continues to stay active as an instrument instructor, flying what he calls “IFR Adventure Flights.” These highly effective trips are an ingenious combination of an accelerated IFR training curriculum married to a multiday scenic flight filled with food, fun, and the kind of pilot camaraderie we aviators know and love. His company, Morey’s West Coast Adventures, completed its 465th IFR Adventure Flight in early 2020. He has sought out real-world weather on trips to Alaska, the Pacific Northwest, throughout the Rocky Mountains, the Southwest and in busy California airspace in his 2012 Cessna T182T or 2017 Cessna Corvalis TTx. In between flying in the kind of IMC that instills confidence in his students, it is not uncommon for one of Field’s student pilots to pull a pretty nice fish from a pristine Rocky Mountain stream during a stopover.

Interestingly, the IFR Adventure Flights that have defined Field’s career were not part of some grand business plan he conceived; they sort of happened by chance.

Read More from Dan Pimentel: In Depth

“There were a couple of young gas boys who were both pilots working at our airport in Middleton,” Field explains, “and one had a father that was a pilot for Northwest Airlines. He had told his son that Northwest was accepting applications for pilots with two years of college and an instrument rating, with the next class date coming up soon. They knew I was a flight instructor, so we decided that it wasn’t going to cost much more for both of them to get their instrument rating if we went on a long trip than if we just flew around Morey Airport in Middleton.”

The genesis of Field’s IFR Adventure Flights was in motion. One morning in August 1966, Field and his two students departed in a brand-new Cessna 172 Skyhawk with limited IFR instrumentation and headed west. “I was in the right seat,” Field says, “and the two students each took turns flying, with the other student in the back seat watching and taking notes. We’d land, swap seats and off we’d go again. Three days later, we reached the West Coast, turned left, and headed down to Los Angeles before turning left again and heading back to Wisconsin two days later. After seven days and 50 hours of flying, those two students had their ratings, and soon I began regularly flying these IFR training trips to the West Coast.”

Field found that by condensing the training into a few days, students did not have to relearn what happened on their last lesson. “When I do several instruction days back to back, my students retain the material, and that makes them safer pilots. Of course, I teach the IFR skills they need to know, but the concepts of pitch, power and trim are constantly reinforced. I teach them that your left hand controls your airspeed and your right hand (on the throttle) controls your altitude. These are basic skills that make you a better pilot, whether you’re flying on instruments or visually,” he says.

In 2014, Field and copilot Conrad Teitell flew an ambitious mission in Field’s Corvalis TTx to raise public awareness about how smaller municipal airports can be an important business asset for cities and a gateway for bringing new tourism traffic into the area. Their Capital Air Tour scheduled stops at every state capital except Honolulu in just two weeks. At most stops, the pilots were met by local media, and as cameras rolled, the pilots talked about the many benefits of promoting local airports.

If you’re wondering how Field got his name, you are not alone. The day he was born in 1938, his father was awarded the contract by the city council of Madison, Wisconsin, to be the city’s first airport manager. Field explains that throughout his father’s long career, most landing spots were called “fields,” and so the name Field was chosen for his newborn son, “most likely because naming me ‘airport’ would have just been weird,” he jokes.

Field seems to gravitate toward hard IMC, a signature attribute that has made him one of the flight training industry’s most respected instrument flight instructors. It is a rare opportunity one gets when they train with someone like this because any instructor who has flown through the kind of real-world weather that Field Morey calls home and logged north of 37,000 hours along the way must know a thing or two.

This story appeared in the October 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post Field Morey, IFR Training Guru appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

While studying meteorology at the University of Hawaii in the 1970s, Cyndhi Berwyn began flying gliders. In her senior year, the US Air Force decided to allow women to become pilots in the service. After she competed for a slot and was selected as one of the first women in that program, she became an Air Force instructor, flying T-37s and T-38s. Her career made a roaring start.

During her Air Force years, Berwyn continued to build general aviation experience by flying hot air balloons, seaplanes and helicopters, before joining the Air Force Reserve flying KC-10s once her active duty was over. At about the same time, she was hired as a pilot for FedEx, where she has been employed for the past 34 years. Through her career at FedEx, she’s been a flight engineer, first officer and/or captain on the Boeing 727, Douglas DC-10, Airbus A300, McDonnell Douglas MD-11 and Boeing 777, respectively.

Berwyn’s career has always been pegged at VY, and with a logbook now stuffed with more than 15,500 hours, you’d think she might contemplate slowing down—but that’s not how she’s wired. Instead, she spends her off-duty time as a captain on the Orbis International Flying Eye Hospital, a one-of-a-kind McDonnell Douglas MD-10-30 that travels around the globe bringing needed medical training to doctors so they can learn new ways to treat avoidable blindness or vision impairment in underserved countries. Destinations on her Orbis FEH flights have included Panama, the United Arab Emirates, India, Singapore, Ethiopia, Chile, Peru and Jamaica, as well as numerous static-display trips inside the US. This spring, she will be bringing the FEH to the Sun ’n Fun airshow in Lakeland, Florida.

Success in Berwyn’s career has come from having a full understanding of what it means to be a professional pilot, both mentally and physically. “Being a pilot is more than just a physical skill,” Berwyn says, “and so many of the things we learn while developing aviation skills apply to life in general. It is imperative to maintain situational awareness in the sky and in life, be self-confident while remaining humble, stay aware of the inherent risks involved in flying, and exercise good judgment when faced with tough decisions.”

The job of flying the Orbis FEH around the world has to be one of the most unique challenges any captain can have in professional aviation. It’s a full-on surgical hospital set up as much for training as for performing life-altering eye surgeries. Moving a hospital around the world takes a team effort, and Berwyn is proud to be an integral part of that group.

Read More from Dan Pimentel: In Depth

The FEH is a 1973 DC-10 that was converted to an MD-10-30 in 2001 and donated to Orbis by FedEx in 2011. It took several years to convert the interior to the teaching hospital we see today, and because FAA certifies an MD-10 as being an MD-11 for pilot ratings, the FEH is flown under an MD-11 type rating.

Long before the wheels are up and the FEH is headed to another three-week medical program somewhere around the world, an intricate dance has to be performed to transition it from “hospital” mode to “flight” mode. After Orbis sets up the programs, the pilots get involved several weeks before departure with specific preflight planning. “We arrive at the airplane at least two days prior to a flight in order to preflight the airplane and check the loading of the equipment. In flight mode, everything has to be properly stowed, locked and strapped down,” Berwyn says.

Berwyn explains that the preflight process on the FEH is a very important element of each flight. “When it’s in hospital mode, there are operating rooms, equipment and medications that are out and available to doctors—nothing is strapped down. After the team transitions it back to flight mode, before we take off, the pilots must come through and put our hands on everything. We tap and touch, make sure doors are locked, straps are tied down and there’s nothing loose,” she says. “Plus, we have everything downstairs in the airplane—support equipment and spare parts—so we’re self-sustaining wherever we go.”

After Orbis volunteer pilots deliver the FEH to its destination, they are free to return home to their jobs. “Like many of our pilots, I arrange my work schedule so I can stay and help in any way I can,” Berwyn explains. “If someone needs a power cord, I’m on it. To me, the most rewarding part is working with the people who are so grateful for the opportunity to have their operation because they can see their child for the first time, or their child can see them. They look at you with so much love, and to me, that’s really cool—totally gratifying.” Two years ago, her first granddaughter was born with a very rare condition that resulted in blindness. “That has made the Orbis mission even more personal for me,” she adds.

With today’s emphasis throughout the industry on encouraging more young women and girls to seek careers in aviation, it can be hard to imagine that, decades ago, when Berwyn first began flying, gender bias was not only prevalent, it was generally accepted. So you might consider it exceptional that she was able to push through the mark of being a woman in a “man’s world.” But it’s important to understand that she achieved her goals not because she is a woman, but because she is a great professional pilot.

Berwyn’s opinion toward overcoming gender bias in aviation is an eloquent explanation of how any pilot can melt it away. “Credibility is extremely important, and I believe that comes from being honest and competent—but also [from] being accountable,” she says. “Once you become known for delivering a consistent, strong performance, the personal biases evaporate, and you become trusted. This is a career field where it is extremely evident that you did your work to prepare because you can’t fake it as a professional pilot.” This rings true regardless of what that bias might be.

When you ask Berwyn what the one desirable airplane she has not yet flown is, the instantaneous answer is “P-51 Mustang.” What her answer says is—regardless of what we fly, our gender, age or experience—we as pilots all share similar aviation DNA. Berwyn just happens to fly a hospital in her spare time, making a difference and helping to change the world.

That is noble work.

This story appeared in the April 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post In Depth: Cyndhi Berwyn appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

For so many reading this profile, “giving back” through some form of philanthropic flying is a big part of why we fly. To see the smile on a child’s face when a rescued puppy is delivered to its forever family, or taking a person up for their first taste of what our world of flight is like is one of the most rewarding experiences a pilot can enjoy.

While some of us have dreamed of filling our dream hangar with the proceeds from a winning Powerball ticket, that is not reality. Sometimes, though, people are very successful in business and can fill their dream hangar by manufacturing products people purchase in large quantities for a respectable profit. One of those people is Dianna Stanger—based in Texas and California—a very active pilot who has indeed filled her hangar(s) with an assortment of airplanes and rotorcraft.

If you’ve ever been to one of the Institute for Women of Aviation Worldwide events and watched a helicopter filled with girls and young women flying endless sorties out and back all day, that was Stanger in her Eurocopter EC135. She’s flown a total of 3,816 women at iWOAW events over seven years, and in 2018, she flew 716 girls and women at the rate of about 20 an hour. That marathon mission earned her the 2018 iWOAW title of “Most Dedicated Female Pilot Worldwide.”

When you run the numbers on that 2018 effort, she spent a total of $101,042 on that one event, and like all philanthropic pilots, she picked up all personal expenses, including fuel costs. Stanger was more than happy to pay about $141 per passenger, just so those girls and young women could get up in the air for a few glorious minutes.

“I’m able to fly so many girls because, in a helicopter, I do not have to taxi,” Stanger says. “Every day at these events, I fly as many trips as I can in the opposite direction of the airplanes flying the event. My trained crew can get four girls out and four new ones in very fast with the rotor turning, and I’m off on another flight. It’s intense flying, but I go into machine mode, and it’s a lot of fun for me as a pilot.”

Stanger has also flown patients for Angel Flight South Central for the past 17 years, an endeavor that gives her immense satisfaction. To date, she’s flown 231 patient missions for a total of 1,262 hours at a personal cost of an astounding $3.1 million. Of those AFSC flights, she says: “There’s never a bad flight flying patients to treatment. You just can’t help but walk away from these flights with the biggest smile on your face.”

And about that big smile we see in every photograph of Stanger: That’s not posing for the camera; she intends to make every day count. “With all the things I get to do with my airplanes and helicopter, I consider myself to be very, very lucky. No matter what life hands me, I always seem to get something out of it.”

Stanger focuses primarily on flying girls and young women because that’s where she believes the need is greatest. “The ratio of females to males in aviation is devastatingly low,” she says. “That 7 percent number has always blown me away, and this statistic was the driving force in the beginning when I started doing all the flights for girls. When airports became fenced, the ability to interact with pilots and aircraft for kids stopped. I think it’s the most wonderful thing in the world to expose a child or young adult to the magical influence of flight.”

The company Stanger is involved in—Connecticut-based Electro-Methods—machines and fabricates complex assemblies and components for the aerospace industry, including some of the largest jet-engine OEMs. In 1992, Stanger became primary stockholder, and while not involved in day-to-day operations, she frequently visits the facility. “We’ve got a seven-axis machine that does parts up to 60 inches now, and to me, that’s just fascinating. I love going up there so the crew can show me all of the processes that go into making our parts. Occasionally, they also give me TIG welding lessons, which I just love.”

Read More from Dan Pimentel: In Depth

The good fortune of owning a successful company has allowed Stanger to buy flying machines for many years to fulfill her pilot dreams. The collection’s “flagship” is a Beechcraft Premier 1A jet. She also has a Cessna 208 Caravan, a pair of Lancairs (a Legacy and a 390-mph Super Legacy) for racing at the Stihl National Championship Air Races (in Reno, Nevada), an EC135 helicopter, an Aero Vodochody L-39, and a L-19 Bird Dog warbird. While all make very fine platforms, two additional airplanes give her the most joy.

“My vintage 1942 Waco UPF-7 biplane was previously owned by my grandfather,” Stanger says, “and just flying that airplane and listening to the wind as it goes between the wings is amazing. You don’t really have to think too hard to fly it or worry about the avionics. It’s nice to go out and just enjoy flying as it was meant to be.”

The rarest ship in her collection is the only Aero Vodochody L-139 training jet in existence. “My late husband and I had a deal. He could only buy me gifts with an engine, and he bought me the 139 as a birthday present. It flies like a dream, but it does go fast,” Stanger says.

What often defines an aviator’s character is not what they flew but how they gave back. Each time Stanger flies a girl at an iWOAW event or delivers a patient many states away, she represents all of us. With each flight, she touches nonflying families and demonstrates in a big, bold way that general and business aviation can do positive things for all.

There is one thing about life that is inevitable: At some point, we aviators will all “go west” to fly forever with Lindbergh. When that day comes, each of us will leave behind a legacy that was forged by what we did during our time on this Earth. That legacy won’t be determined by the amount of hours in our logbooks or what was parked in our hangars. We will be remembered for what we did with our airplanes—and in some cases, helicopters.

Years from now, after Stanger has gone west, to enjoy flying to find the finest $100 hamburgers, she will be remembered for spending some of her wealth introducing complete strangers to aviation—because she could.

This story appeared in the Jan/Feb 2020 issue of Flying Magazine

The post In Depth: Dianna Stanger appeared first on FLYING Magazine.