Crashing on my FIRST flying lesson!

              You have to have a little history to understand this true story:

      I left home in North Carolina when I was 20, and moved to Charleston, South Carolina.    Charleston, besides being an old Southern city, which is incredibly beautiful,  is every girl's dream: about ten men to every ONE woman because of all  the military schools and a huge Naval base, and an Air Force base.....

          I managed to get myself into all kinds of situations by associating mostly with the raunchy sailors.  The way I met Tom, my first husband, who was one of those sailors, was on a frosty January night when he dared me to go for a motorcycle ride with him.  I had only just met him at a friend's home, but I never liked to turn down a ride on a motorcycle behind a hunky man.....   even if it was only 18 degrees F outside...    Yes, and me only wearing a thin cotton dress!     I definitely froze my tuckus off behind him,  but totally loved the ride.... and later on, Tom himself.

          Tom was from Ohio, from a nice family.   He was of German descent;  he was short, blonde and blue eyed, but full of personality and daring - a former football player.   We discovered we even drove the same make and model of Oldsmobile car.  (You have to read about "My Old Smokey" to appreciate this irony.)    We dated, danced, romanced and got married about five months later.    It was the beginning of some really wild adventures, in the United States and over in Dunoon, Scotland.  If you read my Scotland adventures, you will see what I mean... we almost got arrested a couple times and certainly had some crazy times.  Tom was nothing if not nervy.   Sailors are like that...

Charleston SC Naval Yard

       I don't have a single photo of Tom and me, probably because I used them all as DART TARGETS..... but use your imagination.

      Although I wanted to kill him at least once a week, I do have to say he was the most fun of all of my FOUR husbands!    (Hey, don't judge me...  If I didn't get marriage right the first time, I tried again.... and again...)   We went to Scotland for two years just after getting married and then returned Stateside to Maryland where he went to school for the Navy.    It was here that the scariest adventure happened to ME!!  This one!

Me, back in the day, 1969

       Considering that after Scotland, he went into Explosive Ordinance Disposal training for the U S Navy, then got his private pilot's license and was working on his commercial pilot's licenses on his own,  this was normal for us -- always something new going on.  We drove our International Orange 1969 Corvette Stingray and owned two motorcycles which we rode.   In today's terms we would be a "power couple."   Yeah, a couple of young idiots!!

This was exactly like our Vette!

         In Maryland, on the East Coast of the United States near where we lived, there was a small local airport near Loveville, bordering on the Chesapeake Bay.   It was there he persuaded me to take MY FIRST FLYING LESSON!  (The concept being that I would co-pilot with him on his flights.)   This tiny airport was unique for two reasons:  a reverse air approach.... and not having a control tower.     In fact, all it had was a short runway and a few planes parked alongside,  and a small office where you could rent an airplane or buy flying lessons.  It was the latter that brought me and Tom there that day.

Me with our 'vette, kinda blurry.

        It is significant to note that "reverse approach" term.  Ninety percent of all American Airports had the planes approaching counter clockwise to land.  THIS one was clockwise, a distinction that was on every air map that every pilot had in his possession.  I did NOT know anything about that.  But it would prove very CRUCIAL to what happened next.   All I knew was that I had agreed to take my life in my hands and climb into a tiny, very fragile-looking small two seater airplane and launch myself into oblivion...  at the time I thought I could handle it.

This looks a lot like the one I flew that day.

       Tom paid for an hour of instruction and was waiting encouragingly on the ground as I watched my middle aged instructor/pilot climb into the back seat of our tiny plane where he had dual controls. That meant he could fly the plane from his seat, or I could fly it from the front seat.    I wedged my then much smaller self into the front seat and buckled up, all the time wishing I were anyplace but THERE.  The instructor pointed out the controls, the instruments, and fired up our plane.  The engine started with a throaty rumble and the whole plane began to vibrate.... it was REALLY, REALLY SMALL.    I was just beginning to wonder what on earth was I doing in it.

            He taxied down the short runway, facing a row of trees that bordered the Chesapeake Bay just beyond them.  I waved at Tom, who beamed proudly from the side of the runway and waved back, shouting encouragement.    I wanted to KILL him at that moment... What had he gotten me into??

           I was definitely NOT happy about doing this.  Number ONE thing,  I am terrified of heights to begin with.  I have nightmares about falling from tree tops, stair wells, the roofs of tall building, and anything above five inches off the ground....   I practically get nosebleeds just wearing high heel shoes!!   How Tom persuaded ME to get a flying lesson didn't make sense any more.   All I wanted to was to get OUT of that plane NOW!!   

          Before I could start screaming and protesting, the instructor/ pilot behind me had us off the ground and slowly flying over the airport, just a few hundred yards up in the air.  He turned clockwise (the correct approach) and lazily began circling the airport as he was telling me what to do to fly the plane.  He said 'KEEP your feet off the rudder pedals", so I did... mainly because I could not look down at my feet --  the floor of the plane seemed to be as thin as aluminum foil and it easily flexed underneath my shoes!!

         It occurred to me just then that I was in a DEATH trap made of very thin aluminum, a little steel, and God knows what else flimsy tissue paper stuff!  There was nothing between ME and DEATH but that flexible thin floor and the cardboard thin walls of the plane... and the ground looked VERY VERY far away!!    If I crashed I would be a puddle of bones and blood..... Not a comforting thought.    My stomach revolted....

        The instructor got us up to speed and the whine of the engine in front of us drowned out my anxious moans, I am sure...     He acted like it was totally normal to have a 24 year old woman throwng a "hissy fit" right in front of him.    I smelled alcohol on his foul breath as he leaned over my shoulder to lecture me....   He pointed out the "Artificial Horizon" gauge in front of my face on the instrument panel (dashboard)... an instrument which shows the ground, horizon line and a tiny plane moving above that.  The idea was to keep that plane level and above the horizon but not too above it.  That's how you knew you were climbing...  (and going to DIE!!!)

          He had me focus on keeping the wings of that little artificial plane in that gauge on a level, not tipped to either side,  and above the horizon line...   It took my fear away about 10 %...      at least I didn't vomit on myself or pee my pants....YET.   I gripped my yoke (like a steering wheel) in front of me, so hard that I think I left permanent dents in it as I tried to do what he said.    We were turning slowly above the air port.    I could see Tom standing near the runway, waving... 


        THE IDIOT!!    "Why isn't YOUR fuzzy butt up here instead of MINE!!"  (I thought angrily to myself)     I definitely planned to KILL him when we got safely back on the ground...

       The instructor assisted me, while I was sweating, (cursing, shaking and I am sure, whining alternately) as we flew around the airport.    Then we were going for another loop around.   I am sure somebody paid him handsomely NOT to smirk, laugh and to remain CALM... and to be CRUEL....

          It seemed like time stood still.  

          All I could think of was "I WANT TO GET THE H___ OUT OF HERE!!"  The instructor droned on, and I didn't listen anymore...  my ears were ringing, I was getting nauseous..... I was in shock and totally beyond comprehension at that point.

         Like in a dream, in slow motion, I could see out of the corner of my eye, to our LEFT, was a red and white object in the sky, moving towards us....  My instructor didn't seem to notice...  he was leaning forward, gripping my shoulder, pinching it, telling me something about he was "putting the flaps down to slow us so we could land....."     I just stared at that object, getting closer and CLOSER...

This was the red and white object I saw approaching us.

         Now, if I had been a pilot, a licensed, fully trained pilot, that would have alarmed me....    A PLANE APPROACHING FROM THE LEFT....   the wrong approach for THIS airport....      he should NOT have been there...  I watched, paralyzed, as the plane got closer and closer and suddenly,  IT WAS RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!!!

         I could see the red and white's pilot's face.... he was looking forward, getting ready to do a 'TOUCH DOWN AND TAKE OFF" landing.  He was so focused on that, he DIDN'T EVEN SEE US --- WE WERE HEADING RIGHT FOR HIM!!!  

         THERE WAS GOING TO BE A COLLISION IN MID AIR!!!  My heart stopped, I am sure of it, as I gasped, "Watch out!!"

        My middle aged instructor probably AGED a few years himself in two seconds, when he realized what I was looking at, and yelling about.    Immediately, our plane lurched sideways and dropped....    we missed that red and white by FEET, literally a few FEET!!!

       My instructor had hit the airplane pedals and flaps and had spun us sideways, and down out of the way of the slashing wings of that red and white plane bursting upon us...     He had barely avoided a mid air collision!!!  The red and white whizzed by us to land way below, for a few feet, and take off again, instantly....   

        I immediately knew we had a BIG problem when my instructor STARTED CURSING!!!  Something was terribly WRONG!!

       Our little plane didn't feel right.... it was dropping towards the ground... and we were NOT lined up right to land...   My instructor/ pilot gunned the plane engine and tried to bank right so we could straighten out and land, but we were crooked, and not coming in correctly...   (Tom told me later  it looked like we were going to flip over on the runway and crash as we tried to land.)

          The landing strip rushed towards us.... I KNEW WE WERE GOING TO CRASH AND DIE!!!   The little plane I was in, did a "crab walk" = side to side twisting motion as first one wheel and then the other touched the ground, alternately but NOT together at the same time.  We were bouncing up and down on the runway, twisting with every bounce.... I could see Tom's face and the look of HORROR on it....

       The huge ROAR of the engine took my attention away from certain death as my instructor gunned the engines, full power, and lifted us up crookedly away from the landing strip, again into the air...   He was trying to gain altitude to go around again to land properly.    We rose up and up, steeply, heading towards the end of the runway and that soldier line of trees standing to attention along the banks of the Chesapeake Bay....  We passed slowly, ever so slowly just over the trees...  almost brushing their tops....  I looked down into the face of DEATH.

It's not a clear photo but similar to the area I landed in.

       We were so close to the ground we barely made it over the tall trees at the end of the runway!   I felt like my life was going to end violently... You know how people say your whole life flashes before you when you are about to die?     That's BULL S___!!!   I was totally helpless as the Instructor tried to gain altitude and air speed to circle again...   

         But..... He failed...    The engine sputtered..  to a COMPLETE STALL in mid air!!!

     Silence.....TOTAL SILENCE... assaulted my ears....." I should NOT be hearing SILENCE... I should be hearing the ENGINE running, shouldn't I?"  My brain told me...

       Just over the beach, beyond the row of trees that lined it, I could see the water of the Chesapeake Bay, glittering menacingly, wide and deep and deadly almost under us.....  but we were NOT moving towards it...  we were stopped....

      THE ENGINE HAD STALLED AND WE HUNG LIKE A KITE IN THE AIR.... in absolute SILENCE......  hung like what seemed for ages, but I NOW know it was seconds, only seconds.....

             THEN WE DROPPED LIKE A ROCK TOWARDS THE GROUND and WATER!!!

       The impact of our fall, with half of the plane in water and half on the beach,  was enormous...    ENORMOUS!!!    The jolt totally knocked the wind out of me (and the crap and the pee.....)    Before I could speak, I realized I had been SCREAMING at the top of my lungs and so had the instructor!!!  

        That  "As___Ho___" instructor ROCKETED out of his seat belt, launched himself out of his seat, and BARRELED right over the top of me, (stepping on ME) and VAPORIZED himself out the door of the plane.....before I could take my first breath!!    He vanished faster than a leaf in a tornado......  thrashing in deep water, he left ME still buckled, TRAPPED in my seat, with the plane door open and WATER pouring inside the cockpit!!!

       At that sight, I went into TOTAL PANIC" AND BEGAN REALLY SHRIEKING LIKE A BANSHEE!!!!    Gasping for breath, I began tearing at my seat belt buckle and frantically trying to get loose, as the plane cockpit began to fill with water......  The wing was slowly sinking below the surface of the water!!!!   I WAS GOING TO DROWN!!!

        My husband, Tom, witnessing this stall,  hearing the impact of the crash, INSTANTLY gang-pressed the owners of a pickup truck (with a winch on the front) into rescue service.   They were speeding towards the tree line and the beach, turf flying and Tom leaning from the pickup window like a fiend, shouting orders.  (The owners of the truck had been there watching the airplanes, and had a load of wood in their pickup, and planned to leave soon....  but NOT after Tom barked commands at them!)

The device on the front is a winch with a big hook, and a powerful motor to pull things

       They sped in the truck towards the beach, whizzed between tall, ancient  trees, skidded into deep sand by the shore and ground the truck to a sandy stop in seconds.  TOM leaped from the truck and dived into the water to get to the plane... 

      The truck owners jumped out, grabbed the winch cable from the front of the truck,  and put it on the rear tail hook of my little plane.  It had landed tail first onto the beach..... the rest of it was sinking fast into the deep water beyond... WITH ME IN IT!!  They started up the winch and it struggled to pull the plane up onto the beach, and kept it from being carried out in the bay by the thirsty lapping waves.

      Thank God, that Tom had Navy SEAL water survival training, because he plowed through that choppy, ice cold, deep water to me in seconds and clambered  up the side of the open cockpit door like a squirrel after a giant bag of nuts....   with his handy Navy SEAL knife  (which he always carried --- I used to tease him about it)  he was fiercely hacking at the seat belt to free me!! 

            I was never so glad to see him in all my life and I ALSO WANTED TO KILL HIM FOR MAKING ME FLY THAT DAY!!!

         Tom pulled me out of the cockpit, banging my knees and shins on the door, and out onto the water-covered submerged plane wing...... but I slipped out of his arms into about 12 feet of water and went under!  I felt Tom's strong hand burn into my arm as he pulled me up, sopping wet, sputtering and still shrieking like a banshee, to the surface..... I just went limp after that....

        The next thing I remember was me sitting on the beach, wrapped in a cigarette smoke scented, dirty, old wool blanket and I was crying uncontrollably.....  BUT I was ALIVE and only bruised.

        I looked up and saw Tom and the truck owners using their electric winch to haul the airplane out of the water and totally up on the sand.  A small crowd of onlookers had gathered to watch and chatter about the catastrophe and I was glad they ignored me, a whimpering puddle to the side, by one of the trees...

        Turns out that the owners of the truck, which was full of firewood, had to use their chain saw to cut down four tall, big trees on the shore embankment,  just so they could fit the downed plane through them and haul it back up to the airport area.  They used their big truck and the winch to drag it through that gap they cut in the tree line,  to take it to the landing strip...    The rented plane was full of water, the tail was bent and torn....    but it was in one piece.

        I, however, was NOT.     I was having a total nervous BREAKDOWN!!!    I had crapped myself, peed myself, and vomited a few times, ON myself.... and was sobbing hysterically, in a very unlady-like manner, while cursing.....

       The memory of how I got home and what happened after that is still a blur to me.  I know Tom went back to try to find that "Son of a Bi___" instructor/pilot who ABANDONED ME,  but he was never seen after that.  Somebody told Tom before we left, that they had seen the gnarly wet guy "tearing up the beach to his car like he had an army of asassains on his tail..."     The instructor had apparently leased that airplane from another man, to make money giving flying lessons, and I'll bet the OWNER was looking for him too, after that....  I would have put him SECOND on my list of 'who to kill" that day.

      After a few weeks, I recovered my senses. 

      I never flew in another airplane until I was in my mid thirties and that was a commercial air liner.    I did have another "flashback" of that awful crash, however and that was funny, but not at the time.  It shows how things can scar you for life....

     Tom's commercial pilot's class had a tour of Andrews Air Force Base Control Tower a month or so later, and I went with him, on request...   We all climbed up the narrow stairs, way up into the top of the Air Force Base Control tower.  When we all got up there, we had a 360 degree spectacular view of the airport and surrounding area.    It was breathtaking.    The students got a lecture/tour of what went on in a control tower.   I was just bored.    I made the mistake of walking over to the outward arching all glass walls to look down....

      Right into the face of a window cleaner on the outside, hanging perilously from ropes, just outside the glass maybe 150 feet or more in the air.... and instantly my mind went THERE...  you know ... THERE...   THE CRASH.

       Well, my mind WENT, all right.... I started shrieking.... again, yeah, just like a BANSHEE!!! ...... and everybody whirled around to see Tom's wife losing it  - ME!!!    He turned bright red and grabbed two of his buddies, to strong arm me towards the exit....  they formed a BODY SANDWICH with them on each side and ME IN THE MIDDLE, and Tom led us as a group down the long, long narrow stairs, while I was bursting their eardrums yelling at the top of my lungs the whole time.... till we got to the ground.     He made me sit in the car, in the heat, while he and they returned to the top of the tower...

         It was NOT a pretty picture....   

         I embarrassed myself, Tom and all his friends....  but..

                                    HEY, IT'S NOT EVERY DAY YOU CRASH 
                                    ON YOUR FIRST FLYING LESSON!!!