IV Takes Flight

A year ago this coming Friday, my grandfather passed into the sleep of the just. His was a life writ large, in spite of an essential humility that would have chosen a smaller script. My grandfather left me a great many things, among them a collection of reflections upon his life that he put to paper in his last few years. I hope to share of few of them. The reflection I shall post below resonated especially during a time of difficult transition. I'll try to reproduce it with his emphases and punctuation intact. The picture above is a PT-17 Stearman.
"My Pilot Training
I was not meant to fly.
I tried to get in a navy officer training school but the quota was already full. Two hundred and fifty dollars a month flying looked a whole lot better than $21 a month walking--so I joined the Army Air Corps. I waited 7 months to be called.
Preflight at Maxwell Field (AL) was easy--then came Primary Flight Training at Camden, SC (PT-17 (Stearmans) were the planes). They had an open cockpit--the first time up I was petrified. Had the instructor turned the plane upside down I would have stayed on top. I tried and I prayed but the ensuing weeks brought no peace to my mind, or expertise in flying. I got in the "washing machine"--the instructors were civilians--when your instructor gave up there was one civilian test flight, then an army officer test flight which was an automatic out.
After my "civilian" test flight, the instructor asked me if I really wanted to fly. I said yes although that was not really true. For I had been taught not to fail, so if learning to fly was the escape from failure, I had to say yes. I also had had an encounter with the Lord the night before (after the test flight) at which time I accepted "washing out," which got "self" and ego out of the way and in almost audible words the answer came "it's going to be alright." And alright it was because I had no more fear nor trouble in learning to fly.
I became a B-17 Pilot, a Group Leader, did a combat tour and was being checked out as an instructor when VE Day came and I got out of the service."


1 Comments:
There was a hymn sung in your grandfather's church in the 60s and 70s, a favorite of the then pastor. I think of it often when I hear this IV story, as I did many times while he was alive. The hymn was "Let Go and Let God Have His Way". Now, I see this as a state of mind rather than as a spriritual event. Whatever works. Peace.
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