Most pilots say they began dreaming about flying when they were a kid. I too am a part of that camp of dreamers.

My first up-close experience with an airplane was at the LA County Fair when I was about eight years old. My parents let me climb into the cockpit of a Cessna on display. There, behind all the gages, levers and lights, I thought to myself how 'cool" it would be to fly.

When I was even younger, Mom used to take us kids to Laguna Beach and then Balboa Island for dinner at the Jolly Roger. Coming home after dark we drove past what is known now as John Wayne Airport. I remember recognizing the airfield miles away by the flashing green and white beacon in the distance.

Sometimes a small plane would take off or land, lighting up the space around it with its flashing navigation lights against the colorful runway lights.

Flying began to fill my thought life after I took a five-minute ride in a helicopter at Ports O' Call, a Bell 47 and later a Beech Bonanza.

But my first dream of flying came true when...

Read on>>>