It was a typical Saturday afternoon at the local Lapeer country airport in about 1972, Cessnas and Pipers coming and going. The cowboy flew in in his Citabria, in need of a paint touch up because the cows had been gnawing at the tail again. He had repaired the fabric at home, but wanted the shop to do the paint work. He was still learning to fly aerobatics with it. A dream that would never come true, but that is another story.
In the distance there was a bit of a rumble and growl from the sky. A couple of Cadillac Fleetwoods pulled up and parked in the lot waiting. And a small business jet landed, taxied up to the office. Half a dozen men got out, with luggage and golf clubs, got into the waiting cars and left. The Pilot stood around and talked for a few minutes after they left. The Jet belonged to Vlasic, the pickle people. They normally flew in and out of a much larger airport 30 miles farther west. The runway at Lapeer was not long enough when the plane was loaded with passengers and fuel. That afternoon the plane would depart with only an hour's fuel and no passengers. The runway at Lapeer was long enough for him to take off.
It was the first business jet I had seen live and in person. Needless to say I was impressed. The pilot said, "let me show you what it will do on the way out." He taxied to the end of the main runway, lined up, and spooled the engines up to full power, released the brakes and about half way down the runway lifted off, and then pulled the nose almost straight up. With no passengers and a light load of fuel, he would climb to 10,000 feet in less than two minutes. Normally they would do that climb in five to ten minutes, a gentle climb, easier for the passengers, easier on fuel, but when they want to, the plane could really climb.
I will never forget that first time.
One of the Vlasic sons graduated from Rollins the same year I did. He was amazingly down to earth and kind. He married the daughter of a professor who was a friend of mine.
I don't recall my first time to fly, but I do recall when I worked at Coldwater Creek. The owners were impresses with my work and that of my co-visual partner at the Marlton NJ location, they flew us back to Sandpoint, Idaho, in the private jet they owned to help with the virtual store, which aided with photos for the directives we used. And flew us back. Talk about being pampered.
ReplyDeleteWe should always be treated like that.
DeleteMy first time was from Rochester, NY to La Guardia. Nothing as exciting as yours. But I DO remember it.
ReplyDeleteLife is filled with fun adventures.
DeleteI remember my first time vividly....err, not flying. I remember Cadillac Fleetwoods here. There were very few and they had power steering and air conditioning. Now I remember my first flight, to New Zealand in about 1984. It wasn't a great experience and has not improved since.
ReplyDeleteThe Fleetwood was the biggest of the big cars.
DeleteMy first flight was from Los Angeles back home to Sacramento after visiting family. I was amazed they gave you an actual meal, though nowadays it's a Biscotti and some nuts.
ReplyDeleteTimes change.
I had a 90 mile flight from Lexington Kentucky to Cincinnati one morning, where they tried to serve breakfast, the winds were in the right direction, it was a 22 minute flight.
DeleteMy first flight was on a small plane from Chicago to Oshkosh, WI. I was scared to death and, then, on the return flight, I was sick as a dog. It was awhile before I flew again!
ReplyDeleteMy mother had a similar experience
DeleteThat's a great memory. I'm not sure when I saw my first private jet. I do know that my dad and I would drive out to the airport in Quincy just to watch the planes take off and land.
ReplyDeletePlane spotting is fun,
DeleteTalk about a roundabout way to link yourself to a pickle empire! 🥒
ReplyDeleteA friend of my sisters worked as a pickle packer.
DeleteI remember my first flight: a family trip to Philadelphia. I was so excited
ReplyDeletePhilly is a fun city to visit.
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