Former aspiring pilot
When I was very young, I took a ride in a Piper Cub. From that point forward, I dreamed of being a
pilot. That dream never came true, and I'll tell you why in a moment.
Even in grade school, I spent many hours reading about planes. I studied pilot training materials sent to me by my cousin's husband, who was a pilot.
He was both thrilled and amazed at my passion for aviation. He said I must have been born with wings.
When the news of Neil Armstrong's impending journey to the moon came out, I (still a child) insisted my parents take me to my pilot cousin's home to watch it on television--no other location would do!
That event fueled my passion for flying even more. One day, I was excitedly going over some pilot exam information with my mother--though I was still years away from being old enough to get a driver's license. She suddenly looked at me with horror.
One of the requirements for commercial piloting was to have 20/20 vision in each eye. What I did not
know until that moment was I had a very weak left eye as a result of an injury--sustained beyond the horizon of my memory. Something inside me died at that moment.
Today, I fly as a passenger (sometimes)--and often feel I'd rather drive. The seats are cramped, the schedules are whacky, and many passengers are downright rude. Sometimes, however, I look out that window from above the clouds
and suddenly all is right with the world.