Are we crazy, or just stupid?

I just returned from one of the hardest evenings of my life. Mary, my
kids, and I just attended the visitation for Blane Anderson, our
friend and fellow pilot who lost his life in the crash of a Spencer
Air Car (and amphibious homebuilt craft) last Friday, just west of
Iowa City. He was less than 20 minutes from home when his plane went
down, hard.

No cause has yet been determined, and the local aviation community is
freaking out about this seemingly inexplicable accident, and the death
of arguably our finest local pilot. Chief pilot of the FBO, CFII,
home-builder, tail-dragger, multi-engine, turbine -- you name it,
Blane flew it. Everyone who flew with him said he was a great stick.
And he had learned to fly in a Pietenpol, which is to say that he
*really* knew how to fly.

At age 34, Blane left so much on the table. A beautiful, young wife;
twin 5-years olds; a 2-year old. There were his parents, and grand-
parents, standing before his open casket, numbly greeting grieving
friends and relatives for well over five hours. The line stretched
out the door for hours on end, in sub-zero temperatures. No one
complained, and no one left.

Every pilot I know was there. We all feel and fear the same thing,
without saying a word. The thought on everyone's mind is simple: "If
this could happen to Blane, it could happen to any one of us." We
look at the grieving widow, and the crying children, and the body in
the casket, and realize that what we are doing for fun is terribly,
inescapably dangerous, and can claim any of us at any time.

We all are left to silently wonder -- are we crazy, or are we just
stupid? Is this irresistable call to the sky that we answer going to
be our swan song? Are we just being selfish, putting our kids at
terrible risk every time we strap them into the back seat?

Are the naysayers about general aviation *right*? Do we have any
right to risk ourselves and others for what amounts to a hobby?

I don't know. I've followed the call of aviation as far as I can, and
reaped benefits from it that few have enjoyed. I've slipped the surly
bonds of earth a thousand times, and have never felt closer to God or
more free then when I am flying.

But when I introduced my family to Blane's mom, all she could say,
with an intensity that can be brought about only through death, was
"Hold on to your children...as tightly as you can." And then she
wouldn't let my hands go, as her tear-filled eyes met mine...
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

Jay, My heart felt condolences for all.
I've been flying over 32 years... 20 years in the Air Force in some pretty
fast jets on dark nights, bad weather and close to the ground. I've lost
friends to stupid pilots... or just dumb accidents when you hit a 25 pound
brown pelican at 540knts.

You can say, that your friend LIVED A LIFE, living it to the FULLEST.

Could you say the same thing if he was wrapped up in cotton batting and
never left the house? Afraid of what was around the corner?

I've lost friends from falling off a roof retrieving a Frisbee when he was
playing in the yard with his kids.
I've lost friends to motorcycle accidents, getting hit by stupid drivers
through no fault of their own.
I've lost friends to car accidents, getting hit by drunk drivers.

Short version.
A story I tell often, you never know when it's your turn, and when it is
your turn, you cannot avoid it. You have to live life.

A friend was scheduled to be on a certain KC-135, but was sick with a cold
and did not make the flight, another squadron member took his spot and the
sick friend headed home. Another friend was heading into the squadron, saw
the one car coming his way, remembered something he had forgotten to bring
from home and turned around. He watched the KC-135 crash in his mirror, an
engine taking out the car of the one who did not get on board.

If he had not turned around, he would have been in the same spot getting hit
by the -135. It was not his turn.
The friend who was going home sick, it was his turn, and not getting on
the -135 did not change it.

We are neither crazy nor stupid, we train, we practice, we watch the weather
and we put our training to work.
We enjoy life. Life is to be lived, to the fullest that we can.

I've told my friends, and I've told my only child. You cannot be afraid of
tomorrow, go out, live, if you want to do something, fly, water ski, scuba
dive, mountain climbing, what ever, learn all that you can about it. Enough
people have done it before you and written great books and there are great
teachers, use their experience and knowledge and build your own experiences
and you can teach others.

You cannot have a life, if you never leave home.

BT

"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
ups.com...
I just returned from one of the hardest evenings of my life. Mary, my
kids, and I just attended the visitation for Blane Anderson, our
friend and fellow pilot who lost his life in the crash of a Spencer
Air Car (and amphibious homebuilt craft) last Friday, just west of
Iowa City. He was less than 20 minutes from home when his plane went
down, hard.

No cause has yet been determined, and the local aviation community is
freaking out about this seemingly inexplicable accident, and the death
of arguably our finest local pilot. Chief pilot of the FBO, CFII,
home-builder, tail-dragger, multi-engine, turbine -- you name it,
Blane flew it. Everyone who flew with him said he was a great stick.
And he had learned to fly in a Pietenpol, which is to say that he
*really* knew how to fly.

At age 34, Blane left so much on the table. A beautiful, young wife;
twin 5-years olds; a 2-year old. There were his parents, and grand-
parents, standing before his open casket, numbly greeting grieving
friends and relatives for well over five hours. The line stretched
out the door for hours on end, in sub-zero temperatures. No one
complained, and no one left.

Every pilot I know was there. We all feel and fear the same thing,
without saying a word. The thought on everyone's mind is simple: "If
this could happen to Blane, it could happen to any one of us." We
look at the grieving widow, and the crying children, and the body in
the casket, and realize that what we are doing for fun is terribly,
inescapably dangerous, and can claim any of us at any time.

We all are left to silently wonder -- are we crazy, or are we just
stupid? Is this irresistable call to the sky that we answer going to
be our swan song? Are we just being selfish, putting our kids at
terrible risk every time we strap them into the back seat?

Are the naysayers about general aviation *right*? Do we have any
right to risk ourselves and others for what amounts to a hobby?

I don't know. I've followed the call of aviation as far as I can, and
reaped benefits from it that few have enjoyed. I've slipped the surly
bonds of earth a thousand times, and have never felt closer to God or
more free then when I am flying.

But when I introduced my family to Blane's mom, all she could say,
with an intensity that can be brought about only through death, was
"Hold on to your children...as tightly as you can." And then she
wouldn't let my hands go, as her tear-filled eyes met mine...
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

What would you be doing if you weren't flying? Would it be safe?

Yeah, you probably ought to worry and you probably ought to let this
experience keep you sober. But how would you go about figuring out the
answer to your question without learning to see into the future?

I've had friends die driving a combine, others from the mundane car
accident, some from age and even one from a freak congenital disorder
at the age of 20. His mother and father were particularly deeply
affected. He was their only son, still in college and his death was no
more sensible than the combination of one fruit pie for breakfast and
an extra nerve in his heart. His death came about without even the
hint of risk in his lifestyle.

Comparing how to leave your loved ones is a fruitless enterprise and,
if you're respected and loved, you're going to leave deeply
heartbroken people behind.

Maybe this is futilistic but living seems to be a series of decisions
involving risk. Taking on some activity with increased risk means,
unfortunately, that activity is more likely to kill you. That's up to
you.

To answer your question more directly, it would only be insane to take
the risk without responsible reflection. Rationalization of your
willingness to take that risk may well be a matter of delusion but in
the case of aviation, there's a large body of data about your odds to
help you determine if you are rationalizing. Even if you don't crash
an airplane, you're part of that statistical body. And when you take a
balanced look at the way you fly and your other activities, how much
has your risk increased?

It's to be expected that you would ask these things of yourself in
shock and grief. I don't believe, though, you'd be doing your best,
sane thinking to attempt to answer the question while you're still
experiencing those reactions.

Greg


On Feb 5, 11:00 pm, "Jay Honeck" wrote:
I just returned from one of the hardest evenings of my life. Mary, my
kids, and I just attended the visitation for Blane Anderson, our
friend and fellow pilot who lost his life in the crash of a Spencer
Air Car (and amphibious homebuilt craft) last Friday, just west of
Iowa City. He was less than 20 minutes from home when his plane went
down, hard.

Jay you're friend would want you to keep flying. You're friend will not be
forgotten for a long time.

Take a look at what aviation means to you and your family. From what I can
see, (and what do I know), it looks after you and your family well. You are
constantly posting your experiences of majestic flights, viewing God's
greatest images. It generates your income through your Inn. It's been good
to you, and you obviously respect it. Your friend obviously respected it
too, judging by the way you spoke of him. It was obviously just his time,
and as heart wrenching as it may be, it is probable that had he not been
flying, it still would have been his time. He died doing what he, and the
rest of us love. He knew the risks, as did his wife, and family.
Don't question your sanity, or your ability to fly. Instead, make a memorial
flight in his honour. Just take off, and reflect quietly on his life and
your time with him. Then return home, greasing it in for the best landing
you've ever done, and realise once more exactly why we do what we do.
Not sure I'm getting across what I want to get across with these words Jay,
but I reakon you know what I'm trying to say.
Oz Lander

Jay and BT,
You both wrote very, very moving posts here tonight. Thank you both for
sharing your thoughts.

My friend and I had an engine failure in October due to an oil cooler
failure that dumped all our oil. The engine seized 6 minutes into the
flight. We landed in the desert about 3/4-mile from the other local
airport we were headed to. We were shaken up, bruised and grateful. The
plane was totaled.

That event makes you think many of the same thoughts and ask yourself
many of the same questions both of you listed. I questioned whether I'd
fly again. By the third day, I wanted to go complete the flight to that
other airport. I've only been flying since 2002. My kids are in their
20s. My daughter flies also. I think about "it" on some level every time
I fly. Some days it *isn't* worth the risk, and I stay home; other days
the lure of that wondrous, absolutely amazing and unique experience (is
there anything else like it?) outweighs the risk hands down, and I can't
wait to go!

My son and his girlfriend almost died in an apartment fire 10 years ago;
their friend didn't make it out alive. He hasn't ventured far from his
room since. He doesn't seem to feel like he's missing out on life, and
maybe it's harder on those of us who've seen him shut himself in than it
is for him.

Point is, we all deal with tragedies and near tragedies and the
resulting thoughts, questions and decisions differently.

My condolences to you and all who knew your friend, Jay. Even those of
us who didn't know him feel the loss, thanks to your thoughtful words.
Shirl


"BT" wrote:
Jay, My heart felt condolences for all.
I've been flying over 32 years... 20 years in the Air Force in some pretty
fast jets on dark nights, bad weather and close to the ground. I've lost
friends to stupid pilots... or just dumb accidents when you hit a 25 pound
brown pelican at 540knts.

You can say, that your friend LIVED A LIFE, living it to the FULLEST.

Could you say the same thing if he was wrapped up in cotton batting and
never left the house? Afraid of what was around the corner?

I've lost friends from falling off a roof retrieving a Frisbee when he was
playing in the yard with his kids.
I've lost friends to motorcycle accidents, getting hit by stupid drivers
through no fault of their own.
I've lost friends to car accidents, getting hit by drunk drivers.

Short version.
A story I tell often, you never know when it's your turn, and when it is
your turn, you cannot avoid it. You have to live life.

A friend was scheduled to be on a certain KC-135, but was sick with a cold
and did not make the flight, another squadron member took his spot and the
sick friend headed home. Another friend was heading into the squadron, saw
the one car coming his way, remembered something he had forgotten to bring
from home and turned around. He watched the KC-135 crash in his mirror, an
engine taking out the car of the one who did not get on board.

If he had not turned around, he would have been in the same spot getting hit
by the -135. It was not his turn.
The friend who was going home sick, it was his turn, and not getting on
the -135 did not change it.

We are neither crazy nor stupid, we train, we practice, we watch the weather
and we put our training to work.
We enjoy life. Life is to be lived, to the fullest that we can.

I've told my friends, and I've told my only child. You cannot be afraid of
tomorrow, go out, live, if you want to do something, fly, water ski, scuba
dive, mountain climbing, what ever, learn all that you can about it. Enough
people have done it before you and written great books and there are great
teachers, use their experience and knowledge and build your own experiences
and you can teach others.

You cannot have a life, if you never leave home.

BT

"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
ups.com...
I just returned from one of the hardest evenings of my life. Mary, my
kids, and I just attended the visitation for Blane Anderson, our
friend and fellow pilot who lost his life in the crash of a Spencer
Air Car (and amphibious homebuilt craft) last Friday, just west of
Iowa City. He was less than 20 minutes from home when his plane went
down, hard.

No cause has yet been determined, and the local aviation community is
freaking out about this seemingly inexplicable accident, and the death
of arguably our finest local pilot. Chief pilot of the FBO, CFII,
home-builder, tail-dragger, multi-engine, turbine -- you name it,
Blane flew it. Everyone who flew with him said he was a great stick.
And he had learned to fly in a Pietenpol, which is to say that he
*really* knew how to fly.

At age 34, Blane left so much on the table. A beautiful, young wife;
twin 5-years olds; a 2-year old. There were his parents, and grand-
parents, standing before his open casket, numbly greeting grieving
friends and relatives for well over five hours. The line stretched
out the door for hours on end, in sub-zero temperatures. No one
complained, and no one left.

Every pilot I know was there. We all feel and fear the same thing,
without saying a word. The thought on everyone's mind is simple: "If
this could happen to Blane, it could happen to any one of us." We
look at the grieving widow, and the crying children, and the body in
the casket, and realize that what we are doing for fun is terribly,
inescapably dangerous, and can claim any of us at any time.

We all are left to silently wonder -- are we crazy, or are we just
stupid? Is this irresistable call to the sky that we answer going to
be our swan song? Are we just being selfish, putting our kids at
terrible risk every time we strap them into the back seat?

Are the naysayers about general aviation *right*? Do we have any
right to risk ourselves and others for what amounts to a hobby?

I don't know. I've followed the call of aviation as far as I can, and
reaped benefits from it that few have enjoyed. I've slipped the surly
bonds of earth a thousand times, and have never felt closer to God or
more free then when I am flying.

But when I introduced my family to Blane's mom, all she could say,
with an intensity that can be brought about only through death, was
"Hold on to your children...as tightly as you can." And then she
wouldn't let my hands go, as her tear-filled eyes met mine...
--
Jay Honeck
Iowa City, IA
Pathfinder N56993
www.AlexisParkInn.com
"Your Aviation Destination"

We could all die in bed, having never done anything. Or we
could die at birth. Or in car accidents, bath tubs,
swimming pools, icy sidewalks. We might even live over 100
years and die wishing we had swum in the ocean [sharks,
barracuda and jelly fish].

Yes we are crazy and stupid.



"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
ups.com...
|I just returned from one of the hardest evenings of my
life. Mary, my
| kids, and I just attended the visitation for Blane
Anderson, our
| friend and fellow pilot who lost his life in the crash of
a Spencer
| Air Car (and amphibious homebuilt craft) last Friday, just
west of
| Iowa City. He was less than 20 minutes from home when his
plane went
| down, hard.
|
| No cause has yet been determined, and the local aviation
community is
| freaking out about this seemingly inexplicable accident,
and the death
| of arguably our finest local pilot. Chief pilot of the
FBO, CFII,
| home-builder, tail-dragger, multi-engine, turbine -- you
name it,
| Blane flew it. Everyone who flew with him said he was a
great stick.
| And he had learned to fly in a Pietenpol, which is to say
that he
| *really* knew how to fly.
|
| At age 34, Blane left so much on the table. A beautiful,
young wife;
| twin 5-years olds; a 2-year old. There were his parents,
and grand-
| parents, standing before his open casket, numbly greeting
grieving
| friends and relatives for well over five hours. The line
stretched
| out the door for hours on end, in sub-zero temperatures.
No one
| complained, and no one left.
|
| Every pilot I know was there. We all feel and fear the
same thing,
| without saying a word. The thought on everyone's mind is
simple: "If
| this could happen to Blane, it could happen to any one of
us." We
| look at the grieving widow, and the crying children, and
the body in
| the casket, and realize that what we are doing for fun is
terribly,
| inescapably dangerous, and can claim any of us at any
time.
|
| We all are left to silently wonder -- are we crazy, or are
we just
| stupid? Is this irresistable call to the sky that we
answer going to
| be our swan song? Are we just being selfish, putting our
kids at
| terrible risk every time we strap them into the back seat?
|
| Are the naysayers about general aviation *right*? Do we
have any
| right to risk ourselves and others for what amounts to a
hobby?
|
| I don't know. I've followed the call of aviation as far
as I can, and
| reaped benefits from it that few have enjoyed. I've
slipped the surly
| bonds of earth a thousand times, and have never felt
closer to God or
| more free then when I am flying.
|
| But when I introduced my family to Blane's mom, all she
could say,
| with an intensity that can be brought about only through
death, was
| "Hold on to your children...as tightly as you can." And
then she
| wouldn't let my hands go, as her tear-filled eyes met
mine...
| --
| Jay Honeck
| Iowa City, IA
| Pathfinder N56993
| www.AlexisParkInn.com
| "Your Aviation Destination"
|

Jay Honeck wrote:
But when I introduced my family to Blane's mom, all she could say,
with an intensity that can be brought about only through death, was
"Hold on to your children...as tightly as you can." And then she
wouldn't let my hands go, as her tear-filled eyes met mine...
--

Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

In article . com,
"Jay Honeck" wrote:

Are the naysayers about general aviation *right*? Do we have any
right to risk ourselves and others for what amounts to a hobby?

Jay:

I fly a small single-engine aircraft (yes, even at night). I even fly single
pilot IFR in my own single-engine aircraft (well, not right now since I'm
not current). I even ride a motorcycle.

But remember what happened to me last year in Cedar Rapids? I tripped
crossing a street, for pete's sake! My injury wasn't *immediately* life
threatening, but I wasn't in surgery a few hours later for kicks and giggles.

Enjoy life. Manage your risks, but enjoy life.

--
Bob Noel
Looking for a sig the
lawyers will hate

"Jay Honeck" wrote in message
ups.com...
The thought on everyone's mind is simple: "If this could happen to Blane,
it could
happen to any one of us."

Jay, I'm sorry for your loss.

So far, I've only lost one friend to a crash. I have lost more in automobile
crashes. This morning's news was about a high school freshman who was killed
when an SUV driven by a schoolmate (senior) lost control and hit him.

The only consolation I can find for your friend is that he died doing what
he loved. I cannot think of a better way to go.