.FLYINGHEAD 100 YEARS OF FLIGHT
.TITLE The spirit is born
.AUTHOR Kathy Walker
.FEATURE
.SUMMARY Kathy Walker has a degree in nursing and worked in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for seven years, transporting very ill children across the Pacific Northwest. She earned her private pilot’s license in 1981 in Spokane, Washington and this year attained her Multi-Engine Flight Instructor rating and Airline Transport Pilot’s license. In this moving article, she tells the story of a skinny little girl who grew up and learned to play in the clouds.
.BEGIN_SIDEBAR
.H1 About this special series
This article is one in our series honoring 100 years of flight. Be sure to read the fifteen articles across all our magazines for some amazingly powerful stories in honor of this special anniversary. Links to all the articles in the series are included at the end of this article.
.END_SIDEBAR
I grew up a little wild and free so it’s not surprising, perhaps, that my twelve year old brain was able to conjure up such an idea. But as we all know, ideas are one thing and carrying them out is quite another. It just might be true that the depth of one’s spirit is indicated by the fruition of an idea –even if it may seem like a crazy idea at the time.
Life moves slowly when you’re very young, and I remember spending a lot of time daydreaming about what my life would be like. My thoughts often took me to more exciting places and events than the banal surroundings and activities of a small rural family farm. What we did have, however, was wind, and it was rarely in short supply at that. We planted trees in order to frustrate the effects of that natural source, but still it swept the top soil into lofty brown clouds and moved bright fluffy clouds across the sky.
The sky was fascinating. When the wind and dirt weren’t moving so fast that my eyes were stinging from needles of dirt, I would sprawl my skinny body on the grass and admire the clouds. "Hey, that one’s wearing a skirt!" or "That cloud looks like an angel." Then there were the airplanes. They danced and flirted with the clouds, and a skinny girl who barely had any contact with airplanes started to dream. A tremendous sky and what seemed like an eternity’s amount of time stirred and ignited a great gift. A boring Saturday morning in the middle of nowhere now had adventure and spirit.
I would like to say that at this time I immediately took to the air, but in truth I took it to paper. If the means as well as the will had been available, I’m sure I would have been in there pitching all the way. However, I didn’t have the acquaintance of any real pilots, and other than watching the sky and dreaming, I didn’t see very many airplanes.
On paper I was brave and resourceful. If I couldn’t actually be part of that world in the sky, I could be there in spirit, and I committed it to permanence in words. I wrote about the idea and construction of a flying machine. Materials of wood, fabric and glue became the imperative framework to carry me up there. On top of the hill next to the house, I stood in just the right amount of wind and clouds with the frame of my flying machine attached to skinny body.
Hair blowing wildly indicating wind direction as well as any sock, I took off. I flew well and with conviction, an integral part of the show. I was not a mere spectator, but an active participant, and I was welcomed there. The wind and the clouds were smiling, and my smile matched and exceeded there’s in response.
That school paper came back with a red letter "A". I still have the paper. I came across it not long ago while cleaning and reorganizing after a most difficult time in my adult life. The paper is faded and crinkled around the edges, but do you know what’s still there? The spirit. I had it, I’ve always had it. Even when I didn’t know it existed, I found a way to recognize and authenticate it.
Years and years after I dreamed and wrote that paper, life brought flying around again. Once again, after a difficult period in my life, I found myself connected to that gift. After many years of caring for extremely ill patients in the back of aircraft, I actually took to the air at the controls of an airplane. It wasn’t always easy mastering the dream. Worthwhile attainments in this life are seldom free, but it was a joy nevertheless. It was a joy, in part, because it recognized my spirit, and the joy and spirit were in alliance. Any time this happens in life, it is a gift.
As you know, I grew up in the country on a family farm. After I received a degree in nursing, I worked in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for seven years, transporting very ill children across the Pacific Northwest. My dream to fly was rekindled by those experiences, and I acquired my private pilot’s license in 1981 in Spokane, Washington. I later relocated to southeast Washington when I married.
Undaunted and inspired, I climbed through the aviation ratings and started to teach flying in 1989. When I started teaching, my children were very young, ages three and four. The local male pilots used to say, "Would a mother do anything dangerous?" In addition to flight instructing, I towed gliders, sprayed mosquitoes,and flew photo flights, charter and freight.
Over three years ago, I was nearly killed in a head-on motor vehicle accident when another driver entered my lane. During my time in intensive care, under the influence of pain numbing narcotics, I asked everyone "Will I be able to walk again?" and "Will I be able to fly again?" I had no idea I had said those things, and it just made me realize again the importance of flying in my life.
The year following the accident I went through a painful divorce while still recovering from my injuries. I started flying again as soon as possible and this year I attained my Multi-Engine Flight Instructor rating and Airline Transport Pilot’s license. I’m now seeking employment as a corporate pilot.
.BEGIN_KEEP
I’ve flown quite a few hours now, but it never seems like quite enough. I’ve had some interesting jobs in flying, but the one that has been most in alliance has been that of sharing flying with those that have the spirit. When the person next to me is in personal rapture, I’m glad to be a part of it. It’s just amazing what life brings around. A skinny girl, who dreamed of a life out there while lying in the middle of a grassy field, captured and lives the dream.
.BEGIN_SIDEBAR
.H1 About this series
This week, we’re running fifteen articles celebrating the anniversary of flight across all our magazines. Be sure to read them all; they are each quite exceptional:
.BEGIN_LIST
.BULLET Read The twelve seconds that changed history by Mardell Haskins.
.BULLET Read An out of this world experience with Burning Blue by Dave Spragg.
.BULLET Read The Centennial by Marilyn Dash.
.BULLET Read Thanks, Wilbur and Orville by James Aronovsky.
.BULLET Read The Oshkosh Fly-In by Dennis Deery.
.BULLET Read The spirit is born by Kathy Walker.
.BULLET Read 99 years and 350+ days by Matthew Justice.
.BULLET Read First flights by John I. Williams, Jr.
.BULLET Read The British Chairwoman’s Challenge by Mardell Haskins.
.BULLET Read The Wonder Machine by Stephen Till.
.BULLET Read Faster than the sun by Mick Moignard.
.BULLET Read Tiger cruise by Jon Canfield.
.BULLET Read The age of romance by Mardell Haskins.
.BULLET Read Aviation firsts by Mardell Haskins.
.BULLET Read The World War II years and beyond by Mardell Haskins.
.BULLET And read my editorial Celebrating flight across the years and across the magazines.
.END_LIST
Next week, we resume our regular coverage.
.END_SIDEBAR
.BIO Kathy Walker has a degree in nursing and worked in a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for seven years, transporting very ill children across the Pacific Northwest. She earned her private pilot’s license in 1981 in Spokane, Washington and this year attained her Multi-Engine Flight Instructor rating and Airline Transport Pilot’s license. She’s now seeking employment as a corporate pilot.
.END_KEEP
