Hello Folks,
For those of you hoping to see an update on my flying in this post, I apologize. The weather has just not been agreeable for any type of flying, the last week. I continue to "chair fly" my maneuvers in the Arrow, and also study my ground materials. I feel the taking some time away from the skies, in addition to making the heart grow fonder, also helps me appreciate where I am now more.
As I continue to hone-in on my Commercial Pilot's License, the "flashbacks," reflections, of the people, places, and objects that have brought me to this point continue. In this post, I wish to focus particularly on the "people" I refer to. One person, in particular, was a harbinger for me becoming an aviator. His name? Charles England, "Chuck."
The year was 1988. My father, having recently heard an advertisement on the radio for the "Wings of Eagles" Airshow, decided to take a venture to the National Warplane Museum, to see for himself. Once my dad arrived in Geneseo, he opted to take a tour of the museum. When he arrived at the centerpiece of the NWM, the crown jewel B-17G "Fuddy Duddy," he was greeted by a man named "Chuck." The man introduced himself as one of the pilot's of the fine machine, and proceeded to give my father a tour of her. Chuck even allowed dad to sit in the pilot's seat! Upon conclusion of the B-17 walkthrough, Mr. England proposed that my father become a member of the Warplane Museum. My dad was "sold," right then and there.
Fast forward 9 years, to 1997. A 6 year-old me was attending Mrs. Leonard's 1st grade class, at Avon Elementary. At this tender age, I was already very much leaning towards a career in piloting. At the time, being an F-14 "Tomcat" pilot in the Navy was my particular focus (though mum had some things to say about that!) My 6 years on earth up to this point had been mostly spent with my dad, down at the Warplane Museum. Sadly, around 1996-1997, the NWM suffered a split amongst the membership, and was moved to Elmira. My heart was broken, mainly because my favorite thing ever...err...plane in the world was included in said move.
One random day in 1997, my mother received a phone-call from her sister (my aunt) Nancy, of Asheville, NC. Aunt Nan was a longtime employee of the famous Biltmore Estate, located there. In a truly small-world moment, Nancy asked my mother is she knew of a man named "Chuck England." At the time, the name did not ring a bell with my mom or my dad, however, the bio of Chuck did. Aunt Nan mentioned that he, and his wife Sandy, had recently migrated to Asheville from Rochester, and were working at the Biltmore alongside her. Apparently, it came out in comversation that Chuck was a pilot (go figure!), and had been involved with the same museum as her brother-in-law and nephew! In the 9 years that separated my father and aunt's 1st meetings with Chuck, the name's had gotten forgotten. However, the memories had not.
The obvious next step was for me to get in touch with Mr. England, to "chat" about the Warplane Museum, and flying warbirds (ala "Fuddy Duddy.") I'll never forget the 1st letter I received from Chuck, it was like receiving the "Golden Ticket." I had come home from a rather exhausting day of 1st grade, only to be greeted by a cheerful voice from my mother. "You got something in the mail today!" "Me?!," I thought. Sure enough, a letter from Mr. Chuck England had arrived, just for yours truly. He introduced himself, and told the unique story of how he came to be in contact with me. He told of the times he had flown "Fuddy Duddy," and a few other neat NWM experiences he recalled. Chuck offered that he had also flown B-25 Mitchell's during WWII, albeit stateside as he enlisted too late to see combat. Needless to say, after this first letter, we became "pen pals."
Possible paint schemes, Pre-"Fuddy Duddy"
What would follow for the next 3 years were continued exchanges of letters, between Chuck and I. Each time, the content grew more robust, and occasionally I would receive a magazine or some sort of aviation literature from him. The "holy grail," if you will, of said mailings was a tube which contained a few posters of possible paint schemes for the NWM B-17 (before she got her name via member vote) along with the Boeing factory name-badge, from "Fuddy Duddy's" cockpit! He snuck it from the 'ole gal before she was dragged to Elmira. That day, receiving that package after a brutal day of 3rd grade, was the greatest day of my life to that point. As I recall, my return letter for said package started off with "THANK YOU VERY, VERY, VERY, VERY MUCH FOR...," a thank-you note headliner that I reserved for the most thrilling of gifts as a child...
After receiving the 1st data-plate from Chuck, I grabbed the closest box I could find and began my "Fuddy Duddy Stuff" box. Over the years, it would become more populated...
An old wing-piece off "Fuddy Duddy" from when she had a major wing-overhaul done.
The original "Fuddy Duddy," from WWII. She was shot-down over Germany.
The next few years would be more of the same, exchanging letters and little "mementos" of the old NWM/"Fuddy Duddy" days. However, one day, I got a bit of exciting news. Chuck and Sandy (his wife) would be visiting family in Rochester...and wanted to meet us! I still remember that day. I walked home from a TGIF day of 4th Grade, which at the time was a simple hop across the street to Hunter Hall Apartments. As I crossed the street, I was greeted by my parents, and two sweet looking individuals, who could easily have been my grandparent...Chuck and Sandy. The best post-school day sight ever.
The first meeting was s smashing success, Sandy even helped me finish my weekend homework before we talked airplanes! The event was highlighted by a gift that I still keep close to my heart. Transported very carefully from NC, via multiple garbage bags and foam peanuts, a 1/48th scale model of "Fuddy Duddy" made it's way to me. I kept it hanging in my room at Hunter Hall from that day on. Meeting Chuck and Sandy was everything I had expected, and more. I felt like I had a 3rd set of grandparents. For all intents and purposes, I did.
After their visit, the letters continued. We'd only grow stronger in our relationship. They became family to me.
At this point, it was a foregone conclusion that I would become a pilot. Chuck and Sandy would come back to visit again a couple years later, to confirm the above. I never took this connection for granted. And, due to one fateful day in 2004, I'm glad I never did. Chuck sadly died in Fall of 2004, during an accident in Maine. Sandy was with him, and she also suffered injuries. This was a very difficult period for me, personally. I took the news very hard, and I recall crying all that day I found out. At the time, I was in 8th grade, the "rigors" of a cruel Jr. High. I was a victim of bullying that year, and was already feeling quite low. Yet, there was also a positive in my life, the soon-to-be arrival of a little brother or sister. My emotions were so mixed at the time. I decided to focus on the positives, and began studying for the Private Pilot training. This was a nice way to help keep my mind focused, it's what Chuck would have wanted.
A memorial service was held for Chuck, here in Rochester. Sandy attended, and I was greeted by the biggest hug I had ever received. It was a nice day of closure and memories. To this day, I still keep in touch with Sandy, and have met her multiple times. She carries on the zest and spirit of Chuck in everything she does. I will always cherish our friendship. An interesting side-story, when my mentioned-above sibling arrived, he (David) was born on Sandy's birthday (12/14!) Even better, he was due on Chuck's B-Day of 12/8! It was quite the confirmation that there was a family-esque connection between the Englands and Hancocks.
With all the above said, I'd like to summarize by relaying the message that everything I do in aviation is with Chuck in mind. Every time I fly, I carry a picture of he and I together on my kneeboard. I take as many opportunities to mentor young aspiring aviators as I can. My plans to fly warbirds (particularly "Fuddy Duddy"), to operate my own warbird-outfit, and become a professional pilot are all pursued with him there in spirit. He is my co-pilot. So, to Chuck England, I say "Thank You." I hope that I have lived up to the expectations you had set for me, and have made you proud. I will never forget you. Love ya, Chuck!
1/48th "Fuddy Duddy," still "flying" today...
The "Charles E. England Memorial Hangar," future home of my warbird outfit.
Until next time, "Keep 'Em Flying," and "Never, Never, Never Give Up."
