Episode 3... 2001: A Flight Odessy

The year 2001 was a year of special significance to me. The year began with me starting my sophomore year at the University of Memphis. By this time I had already found and was interested in attending Middle Tennessee State University for the Pro-Pilot major, and had declared that after earning my pilot’s license, I would transfer to there.

Not knowing when I would finally earn my pilot’s license, I continued to press on with my training. The beginning of the year was met with several “bumps” due to lack of money, lack of descent weather, and lack of time. I often described my flight training as playing a slot machine with the three wheels. If I have money, good weather, and the time (either me not working, school, or an airplane available), then I just hit the jackpot and could fly!

By the time the summer rolled around, I saw an end in sight. My instructor had given me an ultimatum: I had to take my FAA Written Exam, or not fly with him until it was complete. The reason for this ultimatum: I was afraid. I was afraid of failing the test which meant I was not a good pilot and therefore, would mean I could not become a pilot. In order to combat this, I stayed at the airport for hours, taking and retaking the practice test. I would then review the questions I missed and study those chapters in my Gleim FAA Exam book.

When I finally took the test, I passed it on the first try; I made an 87. With the first hurdle complete I moved onto the next; my long Cross-Country. On June 10th, I left the Olive Branch Airport in Cessna N48400 to begin this adventure. I flew down to Tupelo, MS. From there I turned the plane north and flew towards Corinth. In Corinth I refueled and headed back to Olive Branch. Upon landing I knew I had just completed the last requirement before the big finale: the checkride!

With the checkride scheduled on August 4, my instructor began drilling me. On July 24th, we went up for a mock checkride where he simulated everything from emergency engine out, to short field landings. After flying with him a few more times I was handed over to another instructor for a simulated checkride to get a different instructor’s perspective. Like my instructor, he thought I was ready.

The morning of the checkride I showed up to the airport about 2 hours early to plan my cross country flight and look over any other information I might need. When I arrived, the club secretary said, “Hey, I’m glad you’re here, I was just about to call you to see if you could come early because your examiner wants to start early.” It was all downhill from there.

Feeling rushed I couldn’t get comfortable. In the “oral question” segment of the checkride I missed question after question. I felt like I was being interrogated. I knew if I could just get to the plane, I would be ok. After what felt like an eternity we moved to the airplane, again N48400.

After preflighting, my examiner and I were off. I started on my cross country to Corinth to which he then diverted me due to fictional “bad weather.” We then began the other segments of the checkride including the infamous engine out procedure. He pulled the power out and I began my descent, however, I misjudged the winds and found myself being too high up and missing the field I was aiming for. We then did turns around a point, S turns over a road, and my personal favorite, steep turns. All of which I felt fairly comfortable with.

We then headed back to Olive Branch, where I would do the last of my checkride, the landings. The first landing would be a soft field landing. I came in and touched down, not the best, but not the worst. Upon landing he told me to make this one a Short field takeoff. I immediately gave full throttle and noticed something peculiar, I wasn’t speeding up like I usually do. It was almost as if someone had dropped an anchor. I kept watching the airspeed and the runway and was about to abort the takeoff when a he suddenly said, “Taxi off right here.” Then my heart sank, I had just busted the checkride.

When I pulled off the runway, I began to wonder what I did, when he asked me, “Do you know what happened back there?” That’s when I saw it, I had left my flaps fully down. I had never done that in the past, and only did it now. It was the longest taxi back to the ramp. He got out of the airplane and went inside. There I stayed, securing the airplane, and thinking about what happened, and what was going to happen.

Getting my pilot’s license had been a dream of mine since I had first started flying. My parents were sitting inside the terminal waiting to celebrate with me for getting my license. What were they going to say? I was devastated. I made the long walk back to the terminal and walked right pass my parents and into the flight club. There my examiner told me that he knew, that I knew the information and the regulations, but it was some sort of mental block. He had also shown some leniency during the checkride, but leaving the flaps down on takeoff could not be overlooked.

After the debriefing my instructor wanted to talk to me in private. I didn’t know what to expect. I went into the other room and sat down with my instructor. He told me, “This sucks.” But he also told me, it wasn’t over. A little more practice and I could go up again in a few weeks and accomplish it.

But he also said somethings that I had thought about but never mentioned to anyone before, and he was right. I had put flying on a pedestal. Only the greatest can be pilots; Orville and Wilbur Wright, Charles Lindbergh, Chuck Yeager, etc. I had my own demons to face. Since I am short, I had to overcome the mental barrier of being able to fly. Just setting the plane up for me was no simple measure; I carried two pillows with me to sit on so I could see over the cockpit. In time I became used to it. But this time I didn’t know what the FAA would say. Would the FAA say something different? Would the FAA allow it? Would the FAA say I should just give up?

After the chat with my instructor I went home. I didn’t say a word in the car. When I got home, I went straight to my room. Then I relived the checkride, and thought about what I had done wrong. But then I relived the meeting with my instructor. I wasn’t going to give up, I was going to continue on and get my license! I got out of bed and took a deep breath with a new resolve; I would bounce back.

It would have to wait. My mom’s aunt, my mom, and I were all going to Washington D.C. The beginning of the trip I kept repeating to myself (and they like to claim out loud as well), “I can’t believe I left the flaps down.”

D.C. gave me a chance to escape from flying. We enjoyed a guided tour of the Capitol Building, and on August 10th we had to be at the White House at 8:30 A.M. for our tour. During part of our trip I set out on Washington alone. I went to the Lincoln Memorial, Library of Congress, and the National Archives to see the most important document in American History: The Declaration of Independence.

Looking at that document, I knew what it meant for those men over 200 years ago. They were separating themselves from Great Britain to start out on a new journey, not knowing what the outcome would be.

As I walked around the Mall, I couldn’t help but notice the aircraft landing at Reagan National Airport just across the Potomac. Seeing these reminded me of my love of flight and eagerness to get home and finish my flight training. My aunt, mom, and I said goodbye to Washington and returned to Memphis where I started the fall semester at the U of M.

Because of the trip to D.C. and classes starting, my checkride had to be rescheduled for September 14th. My first flight after the disastrous checkride was on September 8th where we practiced emergency engine out, short and soft field landings. Feeling a little more confident I felt a little better about facing the checkride for a second time.

On the morning of September 11th, I got up and went to the library to print out part of the NTSB’s accident report on TWA Flight 400 and then went to my first class, Cultural Anthropology. There we broke up into groups and discussed the rise of cultures. As soon as that class was over I raced over to U.S. History where we were going to have a quiz. When I got there the professor walked in and asked if any of us had heard of what was happening. He usually began class with something from the present and would compare it to something in the past.

He then said something that changed my world. “Three aircraft have been hijacked…” to which I thought how this had anything to do with American History (At this time I always thought hijackings happened over in the Middle East, Asia, Africa, anywhere but not the U.S.). “… and flown into the World Trade Center. The Pentagon has been hit and there are rumors of a bomb in the Capitol Building.” I suddenly felt like someone had just punched me in my stomach. He cancelled class for the day saying that he was not in the mood to give a quiz and said, “Folks, this is what Pearl Harbor felt like.”

When I got back to my dorm room I turned on the news and saw the recordings of United Airlines Flight 175 impacting the World Trade Center. To me it looked too real, that it had to be fake. It looked like a movie. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I immediately called my dad and he brought me up to speed. All air traffic in the United States had been shut down. No one was going anywhere.

I continued to remain shocked for the entire day. I called my flight school to find out what was happening aviation wise and they told me it might be a few days that flights remain grounded. This meant my checkride would have to be postponed.

Then things began to improve. The FAA began allowing flights, but with restrictions; one of which was Class B Airspace became enhanced. This meant that Olive Branch Airport, which sat beneath Memphis Class B Airspace was now sitting deep inside Class B Airspace. No private pilot could fly unless they were flying Instrument Flight Rules.

The Aircraft Owner’s and Pilots Association began lobbying the FAA to allow flight training and the return flight to normal for General Aviation pilots. The FAA began allowing student pilots to fly solo in the Enhanced Class B Airspace, but Private Pilots would still not be able to fly.

It was under this new regulation, that my instructor and my checkride examiner found a loop hole. Since I would not be a licensed pilot during my exam, I would be able to fly as a student for “training” since an exam is still considered training.

September 11th lit a fire inside me. Terrorists from another country came to the United States and learned to fly so that they could use an airplane as a weapon. In short, they used my industry to which I love dearly to attack the country in which I love dearly. Now, because of their action, many people have died, the country attacked, and the industry uncertain. This was personal now.

On September 30th I showed up at the airport a new man. This was no longer just about me. Getting my pilot’s license was now my own personal way to show the terrorists that you can attack us, but you can’t take our freedoms away. I went up and I nailed the emergency engine out, the short field landing, the soft field landing and the oral questions. All without trying to takeoff with full flaps! When we landed I knew I passed!

I walked into the Office where the examiner endorsed my logbook and handed me a temporary Pilot’s License and held out his hand and said, “Congratulations, you’re grounded!” (Now that I was a licensed pilot without an instrument rating, I would not be able to fly inside of the enhanced class B airspace) That was one of the happiest moments of my life! I had finally accomplished my dream!

In October I began pursuing my next goal of attending MTSU to major in the Pro-Pilot program. My dad suggested that I wait and transfer in the fall so I won’t be beginning halfway through the year and have more time to get paperwork in and setup for MTSU. His argument made sense so I planned on attending the U of M for one more semester and then transfer.

It wasn’t until late November that I met with my academic advisor that I had a change of heart. She asked me if I was still planning on going to MTSU. She said if I really wanted to go that I should go in the spring because I have no more classes that I can take at the U of M that would transfer to MTSU. I agreed and began pressing it more that I would be going to MTSU to my parents.

It was during this time that my dad began resisting the move. I talked to him one day and he said something that I was in shock to hear. In all my life I had never heard him say “You can’t” to me. I had proven that “I could” by getting my license. I knew MTSU was where I belonged.

Somehow, as she always did, my mom found herself in the middle of our argument. My dad would say something to her about me, and I would say things to her about how I wish dad could understand. And why couldn’t he understand? It was my life, and my dream. I should have the right to try. I don’t know how she managed to keep neutral between her husband and her son.

On December 7th, 2001 the battle for MTSU reached its climax. Since I worked with my mom at the same office, we went to work together. I got up around 5 A.M. and got ready and was thankful that my dad would be asleep. When I got out of the shower, to my horror, he was awake and stressed out about me wanting to go to MTSU.

I sat down and didn’t mention anything about MTSU and tried not say anything. He then asked me how I planned on getting there, and if I had a backup plan. Everytime I tried to explain I felt like I was being cut off. It just seemed like he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He then said that I was trying to do this all by myself without including anyone else. Livid and frustrated I went to work stressed out.

It was while I was at work fuming that I wrote, what I now call, “My Declaration of Independence”. It was a letter not to my dad, but to my “Father”. In the letter I told him that I was going to MTSU and it was “not up for negotiation”. I also said that it was my life and dream and that I should be able to try to live it. If I am to succeed I wanted a chance to succeed and not live my life as, “What if.”

Since December 7th was the companies Christmas Party, I had to go home at lunch to get my change of clothes. I planned on leaving the letter for him to find when he woke up later since it was only 10 A.M. and he worked nights. When I walked in I found to my surprise he was awake. I put the letter in his hands got my clothes and left. When I got back to work my mom said he called and was upset by the letter.

I began thinking that I might have been a little harsh in the letter. Since I had forgotten my tie I would have to return home before the party again anyway, so I planned on apologizing and perhaps discussing me going to MTSU.

When I got home, I found my mom and dad in there room talking. I walked in and went up to my dad and said I was sorry that the letter hurt his feelings. He explained to me the first time he read it he was upset. However, when he reread it, he realized that I had some good points and that I should go to MTSU. In January of 2002 I moved to Murfreesboro, TN and began attending MTSU as a Pro-Pilot major.

Looking back, 2001 was a year of personal growth for me. I began the year with self doubt in being able to become a pilot. The horrors of September 11th angered me, and renewed my strength and confidence for getting my license. Then on December 7th 2001 I had the hardest battle to fight; my own father in being able to try to live my dream.

In the end it all worked out. Today, my dad and I are closer than we were before the battle for MTSU. Although I did not become an airline pilot like I wanted to be at the time, I did manage to find my niche in the Aviation Industry and love every minute of it. Without my pilot’s license, MTSU, and my dad, there is no telling how my life would be today. I thank God for blessing me with all three.