Never stop

It was my first solo. The takeoff was straightforward. But I was a little nervous entering the busy traffic pattern and landing the airplane. I called ATC for clearance.

“Punta Gorda Tower, Cherokee Six Niner-Papa-Zulu is eight to the west inbound for a full stop with November.”

Air traffic control quickly came back, luckily not too fast: “Six-Niner-Papa-Zulu, you’re number two behind an Airbus at your 10 o’clock. Report the 75 bridge.”

I looked to my left and saw the big Allegiant jet speeding toward the runway and replied, “Airbus in sight. Will report the bridge, Six-Niner-Papa-Zulu.”

As I was approaching the bridge, I mentally ran through the procedures for avoiding the wake turbulence of a big jet: stay above its wake and land beyond its touchdown point. Then I had to configure the airplane for landing. Landing lights on, fuel pump on, mixture rich. At four miles out I dropped 10 degrees of flaps and made sure I was on the proper descent path. It seemed the wind was picking up and shifting so I called for a wind check.

“Wind now two-zero-five at four gusting two-zero.”

OK, a gusty crosswind. As I was over the bridge, I dropped the flaps to 25 degrees and had to crab to the right to stay on the runway centerline.

“Six-Niner-Papa-Zulu is over the bridge,” I said.

“Papa-Zulu cleared to land. Turn left onto Taxiway Charlie if possible.”

The PAPI lights were showing one red and three white lights, meaning I was a little high. That was OK as I wanted to land long and avoid the Airbus wake turbulence. I put in the last notch of flaps as the airplane slowed to 70 knots.

I hit the runway pretty much on the centerline and slowed to turn off at Taxiway Charlie. I had a big smile on my face as well as a feeling of relief as I turned off the runway.

I was living the dream. Ever since my father took me to an airshow when I was 10 years old, I had wanted to fly. But too many things got in the way.

As a newly minted U.S. Army second lieutenant in 1966 I put in for fixed-wing flight training. The assignments officer was blunt: “We can’t guarantee fixed-wing training. Ninety percent of our prospective pilots are going to become helicopter pilots. So, if you volunteer to be a pilot, it’ll likely be a helicopter.”

Not me, I would be a ground pounder. Flying had to wait a while.

Next came an ever more demanding job, marriage, kids, and before too long I was crowding 50.

Then I started having ocular migraines that caused me to have compromised vision for up to an hour at a time. No way to fly with that. My dream of flying was history.

Then came the pandemic of 2020. By now I was well retired. While I was cooped up, I decided to make the most of that time. I bought the equipment to build a flight simulator. I logged more than 100 hours on the sim flying a Piper Cub, a Cessna Skyhawk, and a twin-engine Beech Baron. I was having fun and learning at the same time.

Then my doctor told me that I needed cardiac surgery. Happily, the surgery was a success, and I was good as new. An added side benefit—my ocular migraines became much less frequent and far less severe.

I saw my family doctor for a routine checkup. He is a pilot. I told him about my thoughts about becoming a pilot now that the biggest obstacle was gone.

“But I’m 81 years old. Will that disqualify me or should it disqualify me?” I asked. Surprisingly he said “Absolutely not. You’re in very good health and quite fit. Go for it!”

Once we were back in New Jersey for the summer, I looked for a flight school near us. The recommendation came back for Big Sky Aviation in Millville, New Jersey. I called and arranged a discovery flight.

My instructor, Mitchell Shields, gave me a 15-minute aircraft orientation. We did a thorough preflight of the Cessna. He put me in the left seat, and we taxied out to the runway. He carefully talked me through each step, and I lined up the airplane on the runway, took the yoke, put in full power, and we broke the surly bonds of Earth.

I was flying! I took the airplane over my house and over the ocean. Having flown the simulator made the actual flying experience easier. It was windy, and the turbulence worried me a bit as we bounced around, but on we went. Mitchell explained that as we got closer to the ocean that the meeting of the cool ocean and the warm Earth caused updrafts, but no reason to worry.

I came back, made a decent landing, meaning I didn’t bend the tin. I think Mitchell was ghosting me on the controls and I signed up for a couple of flights a week.

It was both exciting and humbling. We worked on the basics, and I began to get more comfortable. Understanding all the aviation acronyms was like learning a new language. I replayed each flight once I got home by chair flying.

Soon we were back in Florida, and I wanted to continue my flying and my education. Paragon Flight Training of Punta Gorda and Fort Myers came highly recommended. Once I got there, I could see why. I got a full orientation in the aircraft, a Piper Pilot 100i. It’s a variant of the venerable Cherokee. A very pilot-friendly airplane, it has amazing and comprehensive avionics.

Paragon gave me a backpack full of aviation manuals, chart plotters, and a mechanical E6B flight computer. My instructors, Tucker Tenbarge and Blake Belch, were first class. We started with ground school covering aerodynamics, FAA regulations, weather, and emergency procedures as they tested me on what I had learned in New Jersey.

In the air it was back to basics: We started with maneuvering in slow flight and power-on stalls and power-off stalls. We then went on to emergency descents, flying the pattern, S-turns, engine-out procedures, go-arounds, communication with ATC, and cross-country flights. I hadn’t studied this hard since college. After an hour of basic instrument flying under the foggles, I was dead tired from the intense concentration.

But it was exhilarating, and I was having fun. It was a great feeling to be presented with a challenge and meet it. As each flight went by, I learned more and felt more confident.

A side benefit was being with the young instructors and the other students. I was one of them, not an old guy. My chest swelled when one of the other instructors told me, as we were walking back from the flight line, “I heard you on the air with ATC. You sounded very professional.”

What a compliment! I was encouraged. The great thing about instructors is how supportive they are. They’re nurturing parents even though they’re less than a third of my age.

People ask me, why are you doing this? I sometimes jokingly say I’m hoping for a job with Delta or United. But the truth is I’m doing it for three reasons: First, because I always wanted to be a pilot. Second because I love the exhilaration of flying. The third is because it’s a challenge, a learning opportunity and a chance to expand my horizons, figuratively and literally.

I suppose that at some point climbing up on the wing will become too difficult or one of my instructors will say maybe, you should turn in your wings. If so, that’ll be fine because at least I tried.

I retired early but was determined not to just sit around and watch TV. I wanted to make an impact on my community and make it a better place. I did. I wanted to write a novel. I did. I wanted to learn to manage investments. I did. I wanted to be a pilot. I am.

Bill Dahms was commissioned as an intelligence officer in the U. S. Army during the Vietnam war. He is a retired senior vice president of J.P. Morgan Chase.