Elliott O. Smith

Looking Up: A Lifetime’s Love of Aviation

It is a warm July morning in 2001. I have an early mornings’ flight lesson with my instructor at Princeton Airport Flight School, in Princeton NJ. I have been taking flight lessons since about December 2000. Yes, the year is 2001, about two months before 9/11 and the drastic changes that day would entail for the world of aviation. Chuck T., my instructor, is in the office manning the front desk. I am dressed as I have always dressed when I was flying, comfortable shoes, slacks, shirtsleeves and a necktie and in winter a waist length leather jacket. But always shirtsleeves and necktie. I do this out of a sense of homage to the heroes of my youth from what is called the ‘Golden Age of Aviation’, the 1920’s through the 1950’s, when aviation history was being made by men like Charles A. Lindbergh, Jimmy Doolittle, Howard Hughes, Wiley Post and Roscoe Colman, Ira Eaker, Jim Howard, and John Glenn, et al. Any pictures one may see from that era show these men invariably in shirtsleeves and necktie, if not a full suit (I do draw the line!) or military uniform.

Chuck tosses me the ignition key to a school aircraft on the flight line. I sign out, file a flight plan out to the ‘practice area’; a spot in the sky about 20 miles due west which is sort of a designated area for instructors to take students to work on basic airmanship, flight maneuvers, etc. My aircraft is a Cessna 172, registration number N5404K, painted in big numbers and letters on either side of fuselage; the classic pilot training aircraft in the Cessna company line in addition to the 152 which has a slightly tighter interior and is dimensionally smaller. Commonly called a high wing monoplane, with tricycle landing gear, that is it has a nose wheel and wheels on either side just behind the front seats. The wing lies on top of the fuselage which gives occupants an excellent view of the ground during all aspects of flight.

 Every time I make the short walk to the flight line, I know that I am fulfilling a lifelong dream. To learn to fly and become a licensed Private Pilot. I have a little book of Procedures that cover everything from the Preflight check to final tiedown and every eventuality that may occur in the air and on the ground. It is my Bible, it goes everywhere with me, I study it religiously. It will always be with me when I fly; along with Pilot’s Manual for the Cessna 172. Both will always be in my flight bag. Flying is all about procedures and detail, detail and more attention to detail. The preflight check starts at a specific part of the aircraft and goes completely around ending where it began. This can take about 20 minutes or so. No nicks in the propeller; that is good! No dents or dings in flight surfaces, that too is good. All flight control surfaces are functioning correctly and are attached as specified. A good start to the day! And yes, we do literally “kick the tires” making sure they are inflated properly and have tread on them. Check all liquids, fuel and oil. Given the high air temperatures expected today, full tanks of gas are not necessary as they would impede the aircrafts’ performance in the hot weather. The preflight check is done and all parts on the aircraft are where they should be and attached in the correct manner.

Chuck comes out, we climb aboard and do the cockpit (there are many opinions about the origins of this name, most are unmentionable!) check. I yell out the window, to no one in particular, just procedure, “clear prop!” I start the engine. Revs are good. Check left and right. Taxi out to taxiway to Runway 28. A little hint: the numbers after ‘Runway’ denote the compass heading of that runway by adding ‘0’ to the end of number. So, for example, Runway 28 has a compass heading of 280 degrees, almost due west. This is true of every runway anywhere in the world no matter how big or small the airport may be. We sit at the head of taxiway and do a final engine ‘run-up’. Magnetos working, final check of flight surfaces functions, check pattern, make sure no one is landing, radio call “Cessna November 5404K departing 28”, flaps 10 degrees, advance throttle to move out onto runway, engage brakes at top of rudder pedals to hold in place, final visual clearance of airspace, advance throttles to 2600 rpm’s, release brakes and we are rolling! Trim set ‘nose up’ and we break ground about a third of the way down the thirty-five- hundred-foot runway. I had done this many times in the past months, but it still gave me such a feeling of exhilaration that it is hard to put into words. Flaps up and Chuck tells me we are just going to “shoot a couple of touch and go’s” before we head out to the practice area. A touch and go is a normal landing and after ‘touchdown’, go to 10 degrees flaps, increase power from ‘idle’ to 2600 rpm’s, accelerate to take off speed and lift off again. I do this a couple of times and after the last Chuck tells me to taxi off to the taxiway. I do as he says. At the taxiway, he opens his door, gathers up his equipment and gets out. “Go solo”, he says. “You’re ready. Stay in the pattern, do as many ‘touch and go’s’ as you want”. I am taken by surprise, not expecting this but it is every fledgling aviator’s first goal. Door closes, ‘thumbs up’ and off I go.

My love of aviation and ‘man-made things with wings’ is hard to define and give a starting point. All I know is that I have always, and still do, ‘look up’ at the passing of any aircraft; no matter how low or high it may be, no matter the type of aircraft. I grew up in the Bronx, NYC in the 1950’s and commercial airliners overflew the area where my family lived quite often, as we lived in the landing/takeoff approach routes to LaGuardia Airport. All aircraft, private and commercial were prop-driven at this time, the jet age did not arrive, commercially at least until the rollout of the Boeing 707 in 1954. The prop-driven airliners were usually below 10000 feet, allowing them to be identified by type; and if they were low enough, I could make out the airline’s logo and paint scheme. I had excellent eyesight in those days and the height of the aircraft usually presented no problem in identifying type and airline. Lockheed Constellations, DC-3’s, 4’s, 6’s and 7’s (DC stood for Douglas Company), Martin 202’s and 404’s and Convair 240’s and 340’s and Boeing Stratocruisers; TWA, Eastern Airlines, United and Pan Am, and the smaller carriers, I knew them all and could identify them all with the merest of glances. The Constellation (the ‘Connie’ to real enthusiasts) was easy to identify with its beautifully curved tail and triple rudder tail assembly. The most beautiful airliner to ever grace the skies! I built models obsessively; balsa and paper models, plastic models, every cent of allowance or whatever I could make as a ‘shoeshine boy’ in the neighborhood went toward the purchase of model airplanes. My father was relatively supportive, but my mother had, as most mothers do, higher aspirations for ‘her oldest’, thus I got no real support from her other than I needed to be “better at math”. Not a necessity for a Private Pilot’s license, but absolutely for a career as a Naval Aviator, my other not-too-secret passion.

All through my pre-teen years and beyond, into junior high school and high school, aviation was always ‘there’, but girls and sports had crept in and ‘usurped’ my interest. There was no airport close to me that would allow me to pursue my passion, so aviation kind of retreated to the recesses of my consciousness. But it was always there. Then family came into the picture; two kids, a wife and a house. Then a big career change, becoming a police officer, which would be my focus until December 2000. But aviation and airplanes were still there, tucked ‘away’, every now and then a side trip to Princeton Airport, which, providentially was in the next town west of where I was employed as a police officer, sometimes in a patrol car while still on duty I would ‘sneak’ over to the airport, since it was close to my patrol area, to watch the aircraft taking off and landing and to talk to the pilots. I also had a brother officer who had just got his Private Pilot’s license and would take me up every now and then. We made a couple of trips up the Hudson River from Lower Manhattan to the George Washington Bridge, when private aircraft could do that with no problems. The Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in the late afternoon sun; what a beautiful sight! Out of the question post 9/11! Those flights did it, the old desire was ‘rekindled’, and I resolved to do this before it was too late. I enrolled in the course at Princeton Airport and went up for my first instructional flight with ‘Chuck’. Did what was known then as the Basic ‘Four’…climbs, turns, straight and level and descents. Take-offs and landings are by necessity, part of any lesson, for obvious reasons. At the end of any pilot’s career, if he or she has 9867 total take-offs in your logbooks, you want to have 9867 landings. That is a successful career by aviation standards. My logbook filled up with flight time with Chuck in the right seat. My hat is off to anyone who can go up with someone who has never been off the ground and teach that person to fly an airplane. You must be cool and calm with a totally unflappable personality. Chuck was that and more, an inspirational and more importantly, a patient teacher. I treasure the time we had together in a 172, I learned much under his tutelage and will always remember the flights, every one of them! Aviation is rife with adages, all aimed at keeping fledgling aviators and their passengers to- be safe. Chuck was full of them, his favorite, I think, was asking “What is the most useless thing to a pilot? The air above him”. Meaning being the higher you are the more time you have to deal with any emergency and having the ability to put the nose down and trade altitude for speed, which leads to another adage, from the book ‘ALOFT’ by William Langwiesche, “Keep thy speed up lest the Earth reach up and smite thee”. When given thought to in purely aviation terms, they make complete sense.

I am taxiing down the taxiway slowly; do not taxi too fast, it is hard on the toe brakes. Holy crap! I am about to solo; by myself, all alone, just me! Procedure and detail, procedure and detail. This is one of the two things I have wanted to do (the other was to be a working cowboy…had already done it…another story!) in my life since I was a little boy. Back to matters at hand. Come to stop so that I can see aircraft in their ‘final’ and ‘base’ legs, conduct my rev tests, magneto’s okay, all flight surfaces functioning, control column pushed forward and pulled back making sure the elevators are free and functioning, turn it left and right, ailerons functioning, rudder pedals, push one in then the other, rudder functioning. Check pattern, no one on ‘base’ or ‘final’. Key radio button on the control column: “Princeton Tower… November 5404 Kilo departing on ‘28’, touch and go’s”. Wait a few seconds, no response from anyone in the traffic pattern. I am good to go.

Advance throttle a little bit, release brakes and roll out onto runway 28. Engaging the toe brakes, I straighten out facing down the runway; heat shimmers off the far end of the runway, thirty- five hundred feet away. Toe brakes engaged, I advance the throttle full in, the engine is throbbing, flaps at 10 degrees. Release brakes and I am rolling, feet dancing on the rudder pedals, keeping straight down the runway, watching the airspeed indicator…40…50…60…a little nose up trim and she breaks ground on her own, a little back pressure on the control column to show positive ascent on altimeter and I am climbing out, positive rate of climb, flaps up. At a given point on the ground, I initiate a left turn at 900 feet altitude to my crosswind leg. At another point I turn left again, ascending to my ‘downwind’ leg ‘traffic pattern altitude’(TPA) of 1200 feet. Every airport has its own TPA, the maximum altitude an aircraft looking to land at that airport should maintain, upon entering the landing pattern until its ‘base’ leg. I parallel the runway on my left about a quarter mile away. As I pass the point at the end of the runway from where I took off, throttle back to 1200 rpm’s, drop 10 degrees of flap, roll in a little nose down trim, I feel the aircraft starting its descent. Looking back over my left shoulder, when the runway is approximately under my wing at my left shoulder, I key the radio and call “Princeton Tower, November 5404 Kilo turning left to ‘base leg’,” still descending, throttle back a little more, I am perpendicular to the runway, descending through 700 feet. At a given point over the ground I key the radio again, “Princeton Tower, November 5404 Kilo turning left onto ‘final’. Drop in flaps to 15 degrees, the control column is ‘pushing’ back so I roll in some nose down trim, this relieves the pressure on the control column. Three things are important in keeping things smooth on ‘final’, Pitch, Power and Trim, Pitch, Power and Trim. Suddenly I realize at this point that tears are running down my cheeks. I am crying, not sobbing uncontrollably, but I am definitely ‘tearing up’. This is what you have wanted since…forever. Get a grip, fella!

Nose down, pass over the Land Rover car dealership, on Rt. 206, cars are whizzing by beneath me as I pass over them, looking good, flare, sink rate good, throttle down; back on the column, main wheels hit with a little ‘chirp’, the nose wheel settles as I throttle back, rolling down the runway to the first taxiway. Flaps up, turn onto taxiway, Chuck is standing nearby, gives me a ‘thumbs up’ and walks back to the office. He cannot see the tears in my eyes, I did it, I finally did it! I think I did about seven or eight ‘touch &go’s’, taxied back to ‘the line’, conducted post-flight, tied down and went into the office where my tie was promptly cut in half, my shirt and what was left of my tie put up on wall in the office with a caricature drawing of me and the date of my solo signed by Chuck, along with the hundreds of other students who learned to fly there. I think my eyes were still a little teary; always my ‘emotions on my sleeves’.

I will admit here that the day I soloed was the greatest moment of my life, bar none, that includes the births of my kids, the day I married my wife and the times I was able to fulfill my other wish to be a ‘working cowboy’. I hope that does not shock and upset those that I love the most, but I harbored a love for flying long before they were a part of my existence, and I theirs. Our dreams sometimes are derailed as nothing is certain in this world, it is said, except ‘death and taxes’. Several months later, as if the horrors of 9/11 were not enough, I started to suffer from bouts of ‘vertigo’, not good at any time, and absolutely a deadly thing for a pilot, especially if you are aloft. They would come on unexpectedly and last for several hours. Advised not to fly by medical professionals, that was pretty much the end of ‘my dream’. But prior to that, after a couple more flights with Chuck to make certain I could handle emergencies and was proficient in the basics, he ‘cut me loose’ to fly solo out to the ‘practice area’ and to any other area airports and practice landings and takeoffs from other airdromes. Those were the happiest and most memorable of my flying experiences. Flying solo is indescribable! I still have my logbook; it lists everywhere I flew, how long it took and when, the exact aircraft flown, endorsed by Chuck or any instructor I could talk into going up with me, if needed and he was not available. But, as stated, medical reality set in and I have not piloted an aircraft since.

Even today, as I look up at any aircraft today in the landing pattern to nearby Trenton-Mercer Airport, I am ‘in the cockpit’ trying to emulate in my mind the procedures the pilots are going through. My love of aviation will always be with me, never to really go away. I hope that anyone who has a childhood dream, and has an opportunity to fulfill that childhood dream, feels the pure joy I felt as I turned onto ‘final approach’ that hot July day in 2001.

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About the author
Elliot O. Smith is a 75 year old student at MCCC, also retired law enforcement (30 years). A lifelong passion for aviation and desire to learn to fly was finally realized in 2001.

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