LettersFromFlyoverCountry
Well Known Member
I will write a long story later.
As many of you know, N614EF is named after my parents wedding anniversary along with their first initials.
As I was building, I was dreaming of the day I could fly her "home," back to my ancestral homeland of Fitchburg Massachusetts.
I had hoped, years ago, that my mother could get a ride in it, but alas, at 92, time has made it impossible.
She fell recently at home and spent 7 hours on the ground before someone found her (nobody knew that those life alert things, you have to hold the button down for more than 5 seconds, so she pushed it and pushed it but nobody came). She doesn't move so well and I've vowed to get "home" more to check in on her as best I can and do what we can do to help keep her in her home (my twin brother redecked he outside where she fell so there are no steps and access to dangerous areas is restricted.
You just can't tell an old New England broad "no."
So yesterday, I flew her home. My mother waited outside "all afternoon" she said to see me fly over, but, alas, she went inside before I went over. I was an hour late getting out of South St. Paul and couldn't make it up in the air. 7 hours of flight time over 9 hours. The Indiana to Binghamton NY was murder on the bladder, but the plane was perfect.
Then it was once around my mom's house just in case she was there.
Past the city I grew up in.
On the final approach for Runway 14 at KFIT.
A friend I went to Sunday school with as a kid and haven't seen in about 50 years (we follow each other on Facebook) picked me up and delivered me to Mom's house while we reminisced about our city.
That was Friday.
Today, Mom got to meet her plane.
We walked over to the bench outside the airport restaurant and I went back, started the plane, taxied past her, and then took off on a crosswind runway, letting other people in the pattern, using the correct runway, know what I was up to.
I took off, and then made a low, high-speed pass as I announced on the radio (which was playing loudly in the fuel truck parked nearby) that this was a pilot's salute. I don't know if she heard that or not. We New Englanders don't really talk about such things.
Then I landed on the correct runway, and as I taxied past her, I blew her a kiss.
(A few more pictures of the trip here)
As many of you know, N614EF is named after my parents wedding anniversary along with their first initials.
As I was building, I was dreaming of the day I could fly her "home," back to my ancestral homeland of Fitchburg Massachusetts.
I had hoped, years ago, that my mother could get a ride in it, but alas, at 92, time has made it impossible.
She fell recently at home and spent 7 hours on the ground before someone found her (nobody knew that those life alert things, you have to hold the button down for more than 5 seconds, so she pushed it and pushed it but nobody came). She doesn't move so well and I've vowed to get "home" more to check in on her as best I can and do what we can do to help keep her in her home (my twin brother redecked he outside where she fell so there are no steps and access to dangerous areas is restricted.
You just can't tell an old New England broad "no."
So yesterday, I flew her home. My mother waited outside "all afternoon" she said to see me fly over, but, alas, she went inside before I went over. I was an hour late getting out of South St. Paul and couldn't make it up in the air. 7 hours of flight time over 9 hours. The Indiana to Binghamton NY was murder on the bladder, but the plane was perfect.
Then it was once around my mom's house just in case she was there.
Past the city I grew up in.
On the final approach for Runway 14 at KFIT.
A friend I went to Sunday school with as a kid and haven't seen in about 50 years (we follow each other on Facebook) picked me up and delivered me to Mom's house while we reminisced about our city.
That was Friday.
Today, Mom got to meet her plane.
We walked over to the bench outside the airport restaurant and I went back, started the plane, taxied past her, and then took off on a crosswind runway, letting other people in the pattern, using the correct runway, know what I was up to.
I took off, and then made a low, high-speed pass as I announced on the radio (which was playing loudly in the fuel truck parked nearby) that this was a pilot's salute. I don't know if she heard that or not. We New Englanders don't really talk about such things.
Then I landed on the correct runway, and as I taxied past her, I blew her a kiss.
(A few more pictures of the trip here)
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