AOPA Pilot Magazine - October 2018 - 26

FLYING LIFE

Three days with my brother

BY NATALIE BINGHAM HOOVER

Seeing aviation with fresh eyes

NATALIE BINGHAM
HOOVER will speak
at the AOPA Fly-In
in Carbondale,
Illinois, October 5
and 6.

26 | AOPA PILOT October 2018

BIRTH ORDER PERSONALITIES HAVE ALWAYS fascinated
me. Unlike most stereotypes, this one actually seems
to hold true. First-borns are the classic Type A-overachiever, highly ordered, and disciplined. The baby of
the family tends to be more fun-loving, relaxed, and
free-spirited. My brother and I are no exception. Chas
was born when I was almost 10 years old, and for some
reason, still puts up with me, even after dealing with a
bossy older sister for most of his formative years. Now
that we're both adults, I'm grateful to call him not only
my brother, but also one of my closest friends.
Our father, a U.S. Air Force and FedEx pilot, died
when Chas was 11 years old. So through the years, I
have tried to share an "adult" perspective on the man
I knew our father to be. I have told as many stories as
I remember and shared pictures and little mementos
that Dad had given me. When EAA's annual AirVenture
(that's Oshkosh to you regulars) rolled around this
year, I found myself with an empty seat in my Cessna
172 and knew just whom to bring. This would be a
perfect opportunity to share one more piece of our
father's life so that Chas could feel closer to the man
he had too little time with. Like the first-born that I
am, my mind started spinning with all sorts of plans.
I had visions of us doing ground school at the fuel
stops, practicing stalls and slow flight during cruise,
and reviewing emergency procedures over meals. In
short, I was going to take this three-day trip and turn
it into a whirlwind flight training experience.
However, as is often the case, my fun-loving
brother ended up being the one teaching me. When
we approached Wittman Field in Oshkosh and saw
nothing but a sky full of airplanes all descending on
AirVenture at the same time, I felt my shoulders start
to tense. How were we supposed to safely navigate
an unfamiliar visual approach that was already saturated with traffic? My brother must have sensed the
cockpit atmosphere change because he immediately
started doing what he does best, making me laugh.
When we found ourselves in the middle of a long line
of approaching aircraft-some of which were cutting in front of us with barely a half-mile separation,
while others flew right overhead or underneath-Chas
shouted, "Bogey on the tail, Captain!" pointing behind
us, then grinning over at me.
He did not understand the implications of wake
turbulence or the fact that I was having to fly slower

than I wanted because of the aircraft that was slowing
in front of me. But still, given that we were heading
into the world's largest fly-in, about to spend three
days at an aviator's paradise, my brother's enthusiasm was more than appropriate. After nearly an hour
spent circling over Oshkosh, waiting for our turn to
land, we heard the words we had been hoping for,
"High-wing Cessna over Fisk (the last visual waypoint on the approach), turn right and enter a left
base for Runway 36. Welcome to the show!" By this
point, my brother's infectious attitude was starting to
rub off on me. I gave him a high five as we celebrated
our good fortune.
When we landed and made our way to aircraft
camping, I got out and immediately began the business
of tying down the wings and setting up the tent. My
brother, however, had other thoughts. "Nat, come over
here and take a picture. We made it!" The rest of our
time at Oshkosh proceeded in similar fashion-with
my brother continuing to school me on what really
matters. Chas made fast friends with our neighbors at
the campground: a horseshoe farrier from Amarillo
who flies his Super Cub into various ranches to see
his four-legged clients, and another big-hatted Texan
who runs a crop-dusting outfit and often came to chat
over coffee in the morning or a cold beer in the evening. While I was busy studying the map and planning
the most efficient route to different exhibits, Chas was
content to wander, taking videos of the airshow, chatting with our neighbors, or marveling over the size of
the engines on the Airbus.
When it was time for us to head home, my student flew the entire last leg with minimal help from
me, proving that he was indeed paying attention.
Somewhere over St. Louis, my brother said, "Nat, I
know you explained how airplanes fly, with the high
and low pressure and all that, but it still feels like magic
to me."
And so I think we had a successful trip to Oshkosh,
one where I got to share with my brother a little piece
of our father's life, but also where my brother shared
with me a gift equally as precious: a reminder that
while we should be serious about flying safely, we need
not be serious about ourselves. Aviation is meant to
be marveled at and enjoyed-both the aircraft and the
people who fly them.
AOPA
www.myaviation101.com

http://www.myaviation101.com

AOPA Pilot Magazine - October 2018

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