27 years after my last flight, having said goodbye to aviation, I would start flying again. It was the summer of 2021. Why then? (???)

That “last flight” was on September 13th, 1994. I knew it was going to be my last. The Cold War was over, the Air Force was drawing down, and they just didn’t need many fighter pilots my age (43.) I had been trying to prepare emotionally for it all to end.

The following years were full ones. I had a good civilian job; the kids grew up and went their own ways. In 2011, Jan, my wife for all this time, finally realized her own dream. She got a horse! She had loved horses since she was a little girl, and we could finally afford to keep one. (If you don’t already know, when you say hello to your own horse, say goodbye to money!) So, it was a full life, both good and bad.

From time to time, someone would ask about flying, “Do you miss it?” My answer was always the same: “I miss it every day.” Flying had been a passion for me, bordering on obsession. But like much that has passed, the ache diminished over the years.

Amazingly, Jan stuck with me. That’s to her credit, not mine. Jan is a very forgiving woman. (The anniversary card says, “Holy S***! We’re still married!”)

And through all those years, she wished we could move to a place by Lake Michigan in Wisconsin, where she grew up. Finally, we did, and it’s beautiful here. The 48th wedding anniversary came around, and I took her to a nice hotel, one she likes--about a five hour drive from our Wisconsin home. Did the “anniversary package” thing with the champagne and flowers sent to the room, all that.

The next morning, she gave me my present. It is a 2005 Corvette.

Let me say it again: “My wife bought me a Vette.”

She bought me a Vette!

I was amazed, delighted, stunned. Love me my bright red Vette!

After a day or so, it hit me. The 50th is in two years. I can’t top the Vette, but I better think of something.

I know two things Jan really likes. She likes doing touristy things up in Door County. Especially likes eating Swedish Meatballs at a touristy place up there called Al Johnson’s.

She also likes Grand Hotel up on Mackinac Island. My thought was, maybe we could do both on our 50th anniversary trip.

We could drive in my nice red Vette.

Here’s the drive to Al Johnson’s.

After that, here’s the drive from Al Johnson’s to catch the ferry to Mackinac Island. Two-lane roads, small towns. An hour and a half of backtracking. Real world, it would be more like seven hours. Add the trip to Al Johnson’s, close to twelve hours all told.

Not a memorable start to a Golden Anniversary.

Or we could fly.

Near both Al Johnson’s and Grand Hotel are small, uncontrolled airfields. Total flying time, less than two hours.

Mackinac Island doesn’t allow cars, but you can land at their airstrip and call for a horse drawn taxi. (I may have mentioned that Jan likes horses.) Add two hours for that lunch, and you’re in your room less than five hours after departure. Five hours vs twelve. OK, Fly, don’t drive. But neither airfield has any scheduled air service. So how?

The first thing I looked at was chartering a flight. I found some charters and air taxis. They were way out of my financial reach (Jan has horses), even with two years to save up the money. I guess I’d “have to” fly it myself. If I could. If I couldn’t, I’d have to plan some other way. I had two years.

When I found the Sheboygan Flying Club, told their chief pilot my story, it was established that I could, in fact, fly. The decision was made. Also, when I ran the numbers, it was the least expensive way. I decided that I would surprise her on the day before our anniversary.

But it was still two years before the Big Trip. I would have to stay current and proficient for all that time. I flew once or twice a month for the next two years, early mornings. Jan’s not a morning person, so I was usually back before she got up. If she was up and she asked, I’d say I was out driving the Vette. It was technically true. I drove it to the airport to go fly.

I told Eldon, the man who runs the club, I would surprise her on the day of the flight. He said, “you will never keep it secret from your wife for two years.” But I did. On July 27th, 2023, I drove with Jan (in the Vette, of course) to the Sheboygan County Memorial Airport. When she saw the plane, she said, “What are you doing? You can’t fly that!” If Eldon hadn’t been there, she might not have got in the plane with me. Eldon convinced her that I could actually fly. Eldon had come out to see us off. He was looking forward to it, too. And we went.

So that’s what got me flying again.