CHAPTER 1

ADVENTURE NO. 1:THE BEGINNING

The adventures began in Chicago, Illinois one summer Saturday eveningon July 10, 1976 at a social dance that my wife, Edna and I attended atthe invitation of a close friend. We had been married about ten yearsand except for a lot of hard work trying to survive in a small business,we did not do too much of anything but attend yearly social functionslike this one. The same friends dressed up and spent time with drinksin hand talking and gossiping and exchanging experiences. After mosthad a few drinks the dancing started and this group knew how to dance.I was known for my dancing and on this particular night did a lot ofit. After having had more than my share of alcoholic drinks, I startedwaving my arms up and down like a person doing the "chicken", adance popular at that time and then I started making crazy statementsabout wanting to fly like a bird. It all drew a few laughs and the morepeople laughed the more I danced and talked about flying like a bird.I had spent many Saturday evenings in the past exhibiting this sameaimless behavior. There seemed to be nothing better for me to do. Ihad practically exhausted myself when there was a tug on my arm andmy good friend, Dr. Wilbur Pettitt, pulled me aside and said that heoccasionally goes flying with a friend on Sundays and would I like togo with them. "You can get a chance to fly like a bird" he said smiling.I retorted "What are you saying; go flying like a bird?". In my drunkenstupor nothing else occurred to me but to say "yes" after making thesewild statements. "Yes that would be great". Having said that I expectedto hear no more about it. I managed to get home safely and got a prettygood nights sleep. To my surprise, early the next morning, Wilbur calledme to make good on his invitation and said that they were going flyingtoday and to meet him at the Lansing, Illinois Airport about noon at thenorth side of the field at a hanger on the west end . "This will give youtime enough for the alcoholic drinks to wear off". I reluctantly acceptedthe invitation and he then gave me specific directions on how to get tothe airport. Edna cooked a delightful breakfast and after eating, perhapsmy last meal, I showered and was on my way. Remembering my tripto the airport I thought about kicking myself for agreeing to this crazyadventure. I am not a "fraidy cat" but this flying; well I really don'tknow. As the landscape passed by, I kept thinking that this might bethe last time seeing it. I had no experience flying and at 47 years old,wasn't doing too bad on the ground; why take a chance on my life byflying around in a small airplane. While pondering these ideas, a fiftyminute ride to the airport seemed like only ten minutes. I got confusedabout the directions and thought that it might be a good idea to go backhome, where it was safe, and tell Wilbur about getting lost. But howwould that look? Knowing Wilbur, every time he would see me againhe would laugh and say that I was all talk and no action. I just couldn'thave that. After driving around in Lansing, I stumbled on the airport.When I got inside the airport I parked my car in the small parking lot atthe west side of the hanger and there was Wilbur waiting for me at thegate with a big smile on his face as if to say "you are not the chicken Ithought you were". Wilbur greeted me with his usual greeting "brotherJohn" and said "you did find the airport" and then he walked me outto the plane through a long line of planes parked facing each other. Heintroduced me to Dr. Russ Ellison, the pilot, a very pleasant man, buton his knees under the wing obviously concerned about the conditionof the airplane. He was looking at the fuel in a small test tube andexamining the plane like a mechanic who was trying to find out whatwas wrong. My confidence sank and I wondered what in the world wasI was getting into.

It was a beautiful July day and the airport was very busy. Smallplanes were landing and taking off. Occasionally a large airplane, not asbig as an airliner but with at least two engines, would take off or land.Other pilots were working on their airplanes and they too were doingthe same thing Russ was doing; on their knees examining the planeas if something was wrong with it. Wilbur had brought his daughterStephne along with us, however, she appeared completely at ease withthe prospect of going flying.

Russ completed what he said was a preflight inspection. He smiledsuspecting my apprehension and after completing this inspection anddoing a few other things to the plane we piled into the cockpit and theyplaced me in the front seat along with the pilot. If something happenedI would surely get it first along with the pilot,...