Now that I’m getting old, and it’s been 30+ years since I was a freightdog, and 10 years before that I was a member of a military precision drill team flinging M-1 Garands back and forth while marching in formation. Now I drop coffee mugs and let food fall off my fork onto a big belly. Sometimes I think back and wonder if it isn’t all a dream? The paths we chose and the breaks we’ve had. I think I’ve mentioned that a man who was hired by the company after I left, he leveraged his DC3 flying experience and networking into working for the Federal Aviation Administration in Flight Standards, and flies B-17s, B-25s, and a PBY. There were a couple of times that I started to be accepted in such communities, one an aviation museum out in New Mexico, but then had to move away. If I had stayed, would I be flying warbirds now? Who knows
I wasn’t the best pilot but I have some lifelong friends, and some unique experiences and memories.