Sojourners of the Sky (24 page)

Often, while sitting in class during his initial training, John daydreamed about his limitless future. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that with his background, after rising through the ranks of course, he would likely become the FAA administrator. John knew inside that he would eventually be the one setting policy and laying down the law. It would be up to him to single-handedly weed out the pilot ranks, ridding the airlines of their dead wood. He already had a few names on his list. It was a relief knowing that life was once again on the upswing. And as a much-beloved expert in the world of aviation, perhaps it would only be a matter of time before the President of the United States tapped him to become Secretary of Transportation. After that, who knew?

*

“Grandma, what about Mrs. Tacker?” interrupted Lucy.

“I’m getting to that, dear,” replied Lynn.

*

When Bill Pratt quite unexpectedly purchased the farm next door, John was outraged. It didn’t matter that his new neighbor’s land was less suited for farming, had a smaller house and came with a long, pothole-filled driveway. Having him as a neighbor would serve as a constant reminder that the Pratt family took a young kid who had it all and ground him into a middle-aged man with nothing. The Pratts were the ones that kicked the ball representing his future in the wrong direction. First it was the thieving son and then his heartless, incompetent father. Even knowing that he and Lynn Pratt were ill-suited to be marriage partners, and that he had actually managed to marry his soul mate, John could not forget the hurt from his past. No, having his number one enemy move in down the street was a shot across his bow, a clear challenge to his authority and an attempt by the Pratts to finish him off once and for all. John could simply not allow them to destroy what was left of his life. It was time to prepare, and then remain at the ready to attack.

“When the boy comes of age, I think we should enroll him in private school,” said John.

“We can’t afford that, John,” noted Liesel. “And what makes you say such a thing?”

“I will not have our son attending the same school as the Pratt children. I simply cannot allow that family to ruin another life,” said John.

“John, you simply must learn to put the past behind you,” she said. “We have a good life now. Things have worked out. We needn’t worry about such things anymore.”

“Exactly, my dear, but don’t allow yourself to be fooled. They will do whatever it takes to ruin what gains I’ve made,” he said. “I shall never let a day go by that I won’t remind our son just how evil the Pratt family is. I will forbid him from even looking upon any of them or their rock-filled land. My son will know the truth. I will make it known that it is only out of my love for him and my wish for him to succeed that I order him to steer clear of those devilish Pratts.”

“I read once that if a group of people were to sit in a circle and toss all of their problems out into the middle, after looking them over and seeing what the others had to deal with, each person would gladly take their own problems back,” said Liesel.

John paused for a moment. “Liesel, the Pratts started this. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have any problems.”

“My dear, mein Liebling, I truly hope that you will one day learn to let all of this go,” sighed Liesel.

Her words stopped him for a moment. He loved it when she spoke German to him. Though not a soft language, her accent often had a calming effect and helped ease some of life’s tensions. “That, my love, will be up to those next door,” said John in a much softer tone.

Liesel often spoke to her infant son in German when John wasn’t around, hoping he would become bilingual as many Europeans are. It was yet another secret she kept from the man she adored.

Aside from her secrets, however, having a child forced Liesel Tacker to remain faithful to her husband and his wishes. She even allowed him to have full rein over running their household. She missed her life as a stewardess terribly, but knew Pan Am would never rehire her--not with a husband and child to care for. Whenever Liesel heard an airplane pass overhead, it would serve as a reminder of a life once lived. The sound of the propellers slicing through the air whispered in her ears. She recalled the fun layovers, the beaches of Thailand, the food of Japan, the people of Egypt and the wine from Paris. She missed her carefree lifestyle, free to come and go with the breeze. She loved her husband and son dearly, but still…

One afternoon while sitting on the porch, the former stewardess and her husband looked up as a four-engine passenger jet flew high above their heads. The sleek silver bird was enroute to an unknown destination, located somewhere beyond the horizon. Neither spoke as they watched the contrail dissipate in the high altitude winds.

“Do you ever miss that life?” asked John, staring deeply into the sky.

“I sometimes do,” said Liesel. “I would never trade the life we have together for it, but I do miss the friendships and the fun layovers.”

“I wish I could have flown the new jets. I read that Boeing is going to build one that will hold three hundred people. At my seniority, I would have been a captain on one of those. I sure wish things had gone differently,” said John, his words trailing off at the end.

Liesel was caught off guard. She never expected to hear her husband say such a thing. She wanted to explore his feelings more, perhaps tell him how she really felt, but held back. She’d long ago learned to leave her husband be whenever he seemed melancholy. She knew there was nothing to be gained.

Over the years, letters were exchanged in the mail with her female airline friends, most of whom were eventually let go simply because of their age or weight. Liesel viewed the correspondence as opportunities to remind herself that those were the kind of things she did not miss about the airline business. Though the longing to go back lasted for many years, she knew that her carefree lifestyle was the sole reason she ended up living a mundane life in the hills of Pennsylvania. It was her choice.

Liesel loved the memories, and often replayed them in her mind while doing the laundry and sweeping the floor. And as the memories slowly faded, the reluctant mother willingly came to accept her fate. She never allowed herself to forget that things could have been much worse. Unlike her husband, happiness was something that Liesel never lacked.

Liesel first met Lynn at the grocery store. Though they’d waved across the field, it was the first time the two actually exchanged words. They instantly became friends. In the weeks that followed, they began speaking by telephone. When their husbands were out of town, the duo got together for lunch. The secrecy of their friendship was something Liesel needed far more than Lynn. It gave her the feeling of living on the edge, much like her wild days at the airline.

*

“And Grandpa never knew?” asked Lucy.

“Not until I told him. I waited until I thought he could handle it,” said Lynn.

“How did he take it?”

“Oh, I’d say things were a bit chilly for a day or so. But, Mrs. Tacker was a lonely woman. She needed a friend. Unlike your grandfather, Mr. Tacker was a taskmaster and would not allow his wife to stray too far from his side. The two of us had many heart to heart talks. Her personality was quite different from mine, but we were both married to pilots and that gave us a great deal of common ground.”

“What’s different about being married to a pilot?”

“Pilots are away from home a great deal. And because of that, a pilot’s wife has to learn to be independent, but also has to be willing to relinquish the controls when her man comes home. You see, they are used to being in command and it takes a long time for them to learn how to let that go when they are away from their job.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand men,” said Lucy.

“Lucy, when I was about your age my mom sat me down to talk about the birds and the bees. I was horrified, but she made it easy. She told me that men are simple creatures. They are nothing like us. If a man’s stomach is full, then he will be happy. Then she cautioned me about matters in the bedroom and that I may one day have to struggle to stay interested. She also told me that once a week or so, I should put a ribbon in my hair and wear a nice dress. I was to do this because a man needs to know that his woman cares about him. I was aghast. I almost started laughing. But looking back, I must say, it was good advice. She was right. I’ve been happily married for a long time.”

“That advice sounds both ridiculous and ancient,” said Lucy.

“I’m sure it sounds as absurd to you as it did to me, but if a woman remembers those three things she will likely have a long and happy marriage. Yes, some men will still stray, but most will not.”

“Really? Well, what about guys? Do they have to do anything, or do they just show up?” quipped Lucy.

“It’s our job to teach them to listen and to learn how to be sensitive. They certainly aren’t born that way. And men do not like feeling that they are dumber than their spouse. Their egos are as fragile as a fine piece of china.”

“It’s not worth it, Grandma.”

“It’s always been a man’s world, but that’s slowly changing. We just need to be patient. Our time is coming. I think things will be different for you. ”

“They’d better be. If you ask me, it sounds like men are nothing but a bunch of losers,” said Lucy.

“One time, many years ago, your granddad was burning some brush out in the field. The fire wasn’t burning fast enough for him so he grabbed a can of gasoline. I wanted to remind him just how foolish he was being and that nothing good could come from tossing gasoline on a fire. But times were much different then, so I bit my tongue. Well, sir, he dumped some gasoline on that fire and I don’t have to tell you what happened. Suddenly there was a huge fireball and your granddad started running. He got a few feet away and then stopped. He looked down at his hand and realized that he was still holding the can of gasoline. What’s worse was that there were flames shooting out of the top of it. He threw the can to the ground and ran like the dickens. I wanted to laugh in his face, but I didn’t. His eyebrows were singed away, some of his hair was gone, and he had burns on his hands. It was the dumbest thing I’d ever seen anyone do.”

“What did you do, Grandma?” asked Lucy with a giggling voice.

Lynn laughed. “I kept my silence, but laughed my head off when I was alone.”

“It’s hard to imagine grandpa being so stupid,” said Lucy.

“With men, you have to ask yourself if the good times outweigh the bad. And as far as your grandfather is concerned, the good times definitely outnumbered the bad. Once he became comfortable being the man of the house, I began letting him know who was really in charge of things.”

“That’s funny, Grandma.”

“When your mom started dating, your grandfather was a bear. He hated every boy that came to the front door. One beau in particular kept him on edge. One afternoon, your mom and her new boyfriend were sitting in his car out in the driveway. It was like a bee suddenly flew into your grandfather’s bonnet. He jumped up, grabbed a rake and smashed the handle over the hood of our car. It snapped the handle in half and left a big dent in the hood. When he came inside I let him have it, and I’ve been the boss ever since.”

“Wow, Grandma, your husband sounds like a real nut-job,” said Lucy.

“They’re all nut-jobs, dear,” whispered Lynn.

“It’s tough to be a woman, isn’t it, Grandma?”

“It can be. It’s the burden we must bear. But I don’t think it’s a whole lot easier being a man either.”

“Did Mrs. Tacker know about you and her husband?”

“We never discussed it, but I’m sure he must have told her,” said Lynn.

“Grandma, whatever happened to Mrs. Tacker?”

“Oh, that’s a long story, Lucy,” sighed Lynn.

Lucy sensed her grandmother’s reluctance to continue. She decided not to pursue any more about Liesel Tacker until the time was right. Instead, she turned her gaze outside and looked across the field. She could see her grandfather and brother walking toward the house. She had lots of things on her mind—things about her family and her life. She exhaled loudly.

“I know you have a ton of questions, dear, but don’t worry, I’ll help you find the answers. However, right now, I have to get dinner started. I had no idea it was this late.”

“OK, Grandma. I’ll be in to help in a minute. I have to study for my flight lesson tomorrow. I’m a little nervous about it. We’re going to practice stalls.”

“Oh, dear!”

Twenty Five

“L
ucy, your eyes are spending too much time inside the cockpit,” said Lucy’s granddad. “Most of what you need to know is outside the airplane.”

“OK, Grandpa,” she replied.

“Of course, every now and then you should bring your eyes inside and check everything over. Look at the airspeed to make sure it’s where it’s supposed to be and then look at the altimeter,” he said, touching each gauge with his finger as he spoke. “Glance at your directional gyro to make sure you’re heading in the right direction, then immediately look up at the compass and compare the two.”

Lucy’s eyes followed her grandfather’s hand as it moved across the instrument panel of their Cessna 150. She was thinking there was too much to keep track of, too many things to remember. She didn’t think she would ever be good enough to fly an airplane by herself.

“Then do a quick scan over the fuel and engine gauges,” her seasoned instructor added. It only takes a quick look to make sure everything is ship-shape. But mostly, my dear, your eyes should be out there. Look at the horizon, it will tell you if you’re on course and whether or not you’re climbing or turning. Look at the clouds, they will warn you if it’s going to rain or get turbulent.”

Lucy knew her grandfather was right; she’d heard him say those same things at least a dozen times. She told herself to keep her eyes moving and to keep her head on a swivel. She wondered if her brother was being told the same things over and over. She had her doubts since her younger sibling had always been a fast learner.

Flying high above the Pennsylvania farmland, the teenager’s grandfather continued the lesson. “Lucy, reduce the power to idle and maintain altitude. Let’s see how slow ‘626 can fly.”

As instructed, Lucy had the tiny Cessna flying as slow as it possibly could when it sent the first of two possible warnings to the pilots that they’d better pay attention. The stall warning horn, sounding more like a wounded animal than a horn, activated and caused Lucy to flinch in fear. The creepy sound came out of nowhere and was totally unexpected. It was something her grandfather had purposely left out of the morning ground school.

“That noise startled you, didn’t it?” said Lucy’s granddad.

“Uh, um, yeah,” she muttered.

“I wanted it to be a surprise because a sudden bang, or the silence of an engine failure, would certainly startle you. That’s to be expected. You must remember to always be on your guard and be ready to handle anything that crops up. Never allow yourself to panic. Once you realize something’s gone wrong, deal with the problem. And no matter what, Lucy, always remember to fly the airplane first and let everything else come after that.”

Lucy nodded her head, still feeling a little spooked by the intermittent warning horn.

“OK, Lucy, I want you to gently pull the nose up a little more. In a few seconds, you will feel the air spilling off the back of our wing and onto the horizontal stabilizer. You’re also going to hear it. You’ll hear a rumbling sound and the controls will start to buck a little in your hand. This will be the airplane’s final warning to you that you’re getting close to stall speed. If we then allow our airplane to slow further, the wing will lose most of its lift and stall.”

Suddenly, the whole airplane began to shake and they could hear the metal skin of the Cessna flexing in and out. The bending metal caused a continuous deep rumble that could be both felt and heard.

“I know it’s unnerving for you to be flying this slowly, especially with the stall warning horn going off. But Lucy, we’re still flying; we’re not crashing,” observed her granddad with a grin.

Her grandfather’s remarks brought a smile to Lucy’s young face. It was true: they were flying and not crashing…yet anyway.

Lucy gripped the control yoke tightly with sweaty palms. She was feeling quite uncomfortable because she feared she might lose control of the airplane at any moment. The controls felt sloppy, and she was distracted by the unfamiliar noises. The young teen licked her lips and shifted nervously in her seat.

“Reduce the power to idle now and slowly pull the nose up,” ordered Lucy’s granddad. “In a few seconds the wing will stall. Like I said on the ground, once there is no lift the wing will stall and drop toward the ground. Remember, if one wing stalls first, that one will drop while the other one keeps flying.”

Lucy did as instructed. Almost instantly the annoying “cat scream” grew louder, blaring continuously as the airplane slowed. After a few moments, the entire airplane began to shake and buffet even more violently. Lucy could feel the controls go limp in her hands, and she could hear the alarming sound of the metal skin on the airplane as it popped and banged, bending in and out with the changing airflow. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead.

Lucy’s grandfather had briefed her on this maneuver, but that was on the ground. Flying six thousand feet above the ground in an airplane that felt as though it was about to shake itself to pieces, while a crazy feline cried out in pain from somewhere underneath the instrument panel, was frightening beyond anything she’d ever experienced. But as alarming as all that was, and as much as her grandfather had tried to prepare her on the ground for what would take place, there was no way Lucy could have been fully ready for what was about to happen.

The moment one of the wings stopped flying, Lucy, acting out of fear, inadvertently pushed the left rudder pedal toward the floor. All of a sudden, the Cessna snapped violently to the left! Then, in nearly the same confusing moment, the airplane’s nose dropped abruptly toward the ground. For a few very long seconds, Lucy believed they were upside down. She looked out the front window, but everything was a blur as the ground spun around and around and around. With each terrifying rotation, the airplane’s occupants were tossed violently to the left and right. Lucy could feel her stomach come up into her throat. She might have vomited had she not been so scared. She’d ridden quite a few amusement park rides in her life, but a spinning Cessna was far beyond anything Lucy had ever experienced.

Lucy could vaguely make out the sound of the angry tomcat and the air banging against the airplane’s skin, but the sounds were difficult to discern. Too many things were happening at once and her sensory inputs quickly became overloaded. Lucy could see the airplane was pointing straight down, and the wild gyrations convinced her that it was also completely out of control! She wanted to react but couldn’t. With the ground rushing up at an incredible rate, the young aviator froze.

Sounds and colors merged together into a distorted haze. Time, at least as far as Lucy was concerned, stopped. She swiftly placed her hands over her face in anticipation of the end.

“Lucy, don’t be frightened,” advised her granddad. “We’re in a spin. Do you remember how to get out of it?” he asked calmly.

“Um, uh, lower the nose?” she muttered under her breath.

“Put your hands on the controls and follow me,” he said with a soothing voice.

Lucy’s granddad grabbed the control yoke and placed his feet firmly on the rudder pedals. He then pushed the right rudder pedal to stop the rotation, while smoothly pulling the tiny engine’s power to idle. Next, he gently applied forward pressure on the control yoke to break the stall.

A moment later the wings were level, but Lucy observed that the nose of the airplane was still pointing straight down. And even more horrifying, through the kaleidoscope of sights and sounds, Lucy noticed that their airspeed had begun to increase at an incredible rate! The young student pilot remained frozen with fear, unable to move.

“Lucy, put your hands on the controls,” repeated her grandfather, using a much firmer tone.

Lucy reluctantly placed her left hand on the control yoke as she had been told, and could feel her grandfather slowly bringing the nose of the airplane skyward. As the blue sky slowly replaced the solid ground in their windshield, Lucy sensed the increased “G” forces pushing on her body. It was almost as if she could feel the skin on her face being peeled back.

Time resumed ever-so-slowly. Though the maneuver took less than a minute from start to finish, and they’d only lost seven hundred feet of altitude, the experience left Lucy feeling completely drained.

“Lucy, it’s just another exercise. If you know what to do when it happens, you won’t allow yourself to be frightened; you’ll simply react. Next time we fly we’ll practice a few more stalls, but without the spins. If you remember to keep your rudder centered, you shouldn’t have any problem with this maneuver. Then after you’re comfortable with stalls, we’ll practice a few spins so you can get used to them, too. But for now, I think you’ve had enough. Let’s head back to the barn,” suggested her granddad.

Lucy looked around, but was so disoriented it took a few minutes for her to figure out which way was home. Once she located the town of Clarks Summit, she scanned the horizon looking for Fords Pond. She knew her grandfather’s small farm was a little to the north and west of there. The moment she spotted the tiny body of water, she pointed the airplane toward the old gray barn on the hill.

“Grandpa, I can see Mr. Tacker’s car at the bottom of the driveway. I wonder what he wants now?” asked Lucy.

“Don’t worry about him, Lucy. He’s just a bitter old man with nothing better to do with his time,” said Lucy’s granddad.

Lucy pursed her lips. “He’s been snooping around ever since we started putting ‘626 back together and running the engine,” said Lucy. “You’re not going to get into trouble, are you?”

Lucy’s granddad did not immediately respond. He glanced out his side window and mumbled, “Never again.”

“I think he’s mean. He acts like he’s always mad,” added Lucy. She looked over toward her grandfather, awaiting an acknowledgment, but saw only a frown.

Before lining up for landing, they circled the field once, making sure no animals had wandered onto the runway in their absence.

Official landing practice wouldn’t begin for a few more lessons, but Lucy’s grandfather had been allowing her to be at the controls with him while he talked her through the lineup and touchdown on the grassy field behind his barn. Hoping to prevent fear from taking over after such a stressful lesson, he decided to give Lucy a little more leeway and permit her to land the airplane by herself.

Lucy poured every ounce of concentration she had into setting up for the landing on her granddad’s short homemade strip. She set the flaps, pulled the knob for carburetor heat and slowly reduced the power without seeking her grandfather’s approval. She acted as if her instructor wasn’t even there.

While the young aviator worked, the old man in the right seat looked on with the smile of a ten-year-old plastered on his face. He watched how his granddaughter’s long dark hair swirled in the light breeze flowing through the cockpit, occasionally blowing across her face, and how her tiny young hands told the airplane to do what she wanted, when she wanted. He could not possibly remember ever being as happy as he was in that moment. His head was so far up in the clouds, he barely even noticed Lucy’s smooth touchdown. It was her first actual landing.

It had always been Bill Pratt’s dream to teach his children to fly. He’d spent months searching for just the right airplane. He finally settled on a red and white 1975 Cessna 150 with N63626 stenciled on its tail. It became his pride and joy. He took it aloft nearly every day. But when his children finally came of age, it seemed both his son and daughter had other things on their minds. Even after much prodding, Bill’s children showed absolutely no interest in sharing his love of aviation.

The retired aviator-turned-farmer eventually lost all of his love for flying. There were tears in his eyes the day Bill reluctantly removed the wings from his Cessna. He placed them under some old blankets next to the fuselage and stored the pieces as far back into the barn as possible. He had no intention of ever gazing upon his lost love again. He then left explicit instructions for his wife to sell the airplane upon his death.

Since his retirement, Bill’s days turned into months and the months into years, each looking pretty much like the one before. Time passed unremarkably with nary the sound of a child being heard within the walls of Bill and Lynn Pratt’s country home. Bill had withdrawn, mistakenly believing that silence was golden.

Initially, both Bill and Lynn were far from excited about the prospect of having a couple of children “dumped” on them for the summer. The kids were practically strangers. But what they’d failed to realize was just how much life the two young grandchildren would bring with them.

Things got off to a slow start. At first the two youngsters were testy and reclusive, but boredom eventually drove them out of the house, forcing them to explore the family farm. They began to open up.

Bill soon noticed that Lucy and Jack were different from his own children. Though Lucy was more stubborn than her brother, each had an adventurous spirit just waiting for an outlet. They discovered the airplane one day and pestered the old man endlessly to put it back together and take them for a ride. He fought them at first, but eventually succumbed. Though the love of flying had been long dormant for the retired airman, he would later have to admit that his grandchildren quite unexpectedly managed to reignite his passion.