Flying Thoughts

WE INFLUENCE OTHER LIVES MORE THAN WE REALIZE. LET US CHERISH THIS HONOR.

            This fact was driven home to me a number of years ago in a real way, through the following event.

I received a call from our U. S. Congressman’s office in 1987 asking for a favor. (Now that’s a switch.) They were requesting that I consider giving a ride in my 1942 Ryan ST open cockpit aircraft to a 92-year-old gentleman from Sturgis, Michigan. Clyde (Hoopy) Hoopingarner was a pilot in 1917 during World War I, and had never had his hands on the controls since that time.  Of course, I told them, I would be honored to do so and to set up a time when we could meet at the Three Rivers Airport.

The day arrived and both the Sturgis and Three Rivers newspaper reporters were on hand to greet and interview him when he arrived. I had already briefed them on the fact that once in the air I would circle over his home in Sturgis and also pointed out that I would let him take the controls while doing so. We all wondered what the fellow would look like and assumed that he might arrive hobbling along with a cane or even worse, in a wheelchair. A car pulled up to the small terminal building and the single occupant promptly got out of the driver’s seat and strolled into the lobby. It was my passenger.

During the interview with the media persons, he displayed a number of items that he had saved through the years; his silk scarf, flight jacket and leather helmet with goggles. Inside his helmet there were the signatures of his flight school classmates.

We walked out to the Ryan and I positioned him in the front cockpit. After strapping him into his parachute, shoulder harness and seat belt, off we went. My Ryan has a small intercom system whereby I can speak to the person in the front cockpit but he/she can’t speak back. I like it that way. Heading southeast to Sturgis, I advised that I was turning the controls over to him and he should shake the stick when he took over.  I made a few comments about keeping the wings level and the nose on the horizon and said little more. He handled the aircraft with a reasonable amount of control, so much so, that I allowed him to fly all the way to Sturgis. When he found his house, he circled it twice and I told him to head back to Three Rivers, which he immediately did. Before the landing I did a snap roll then completed the landing while allowing him to keep his hands on the stick and his feet on the rudder pedals. After parking the airplane we shook hands and bid each other farewell. That could be the end of the story except for the following.

A number of years later, Donna and I were in Florida, on the way to Costa Rica in our Beechcraft Twin Bonanza. We first had stopped in Titusville, Florida to visit with my old flying buddy, Bob Biggs, when a phone call came in asking for me. It was the Congressman’s assistant. She somehow tracked me down because of a special event that I should know about. She stated that our old WW I friend had just peacefully passed away. He was discovered in the morning, sitting in his favorite chair with a full-page newspaper article of his last flight with me in the Ryan clutched in his hands. There was a paragraph in the article that quoted him as saying “ It was beautiful!” the Sturgis native said after his half-hour flight over St. Joseph County. “Dick took me clear up there and God, it was beautiful!” There was another quote in the same article. ‘Hoopy’ stated – “A guy tried to sell me life insurance. I told him I’m not going to die.” I agree Hoopy. You never will.