It’s not often that one has the chance to be involved in an event which, taken at face value, does not seem that important or earth shaking initially, but upon later reflection make you realize that you were part of something special. The early evening of this last July 1st just passed was just such an event. But first, some background…
In April I received a call from a woman identifying herself as the mother of an 11- year old boy interested in RC model airplanes. Usually when I get this type of call, I automatically experience double, conflicting sensations. On one side, I’m glad to hear about a young person expressing interest in the hobby. On the other side, I cringe at the possibility of having to deal with a family who does not have, shall we say, the best of intentions as far as their wunderkind are concerned. We are not a baby sitting service, after all.
Also, there is always the possibility of the kid involved being in need of massive amounts of (have to be careful here)… help? Both of the, ah, “structural” type, and even, in some cases, “chemical”, when all else fails. Having helped run a municipal day camp for a number of years (many, many moons ago) I am familiar with the pro’s and con’s of dealing with kids- all the way from aspiring Angels to certifiable Devils-In-Training. Bottom line- we’re glad to mentor and help any youngster interest in the hobby…within reason, and with the support of their family.
Back to our new prospective pilot. I agreed to meet with him, his Mom and Dad at the field the following weekend. Alex and his family greeted me cordially at the agreed upon time and we sat under the canopies on one of the picnic tables. For a few minutes we discussed his prior experience, where he wanted to go, and what he wanted to do, with RC model airplanes, along with the requirements for club membership, and being an RC pilot in general.
My first impression of Alex was one of manners and upbringing that- if I had my way- all families would share and cultivate in their children. Bright, soft-spoken and more… precise?... than any previous 11 year old of recent acquaintance, he told me in fair detail of his previous and fairly expansive “experience” flying electrics (if memory serves) in, among other places, Prospect Park down in the City. His Dad had taken a video of the last ill fated flight of one of his planes, which we reviewed.
As we continued to chat, it turned out that there is a bit of aviation history in the blood line. Alex’s grandfather was involved with the Yakolev Design Bureau during WWII for the former Soviet Union. Now the “precision” I detected before made sense. Alex did not bring any aircraft to fly that day, but we agreed that after he returned from a vacation they were going on, we’d link up again to finish membership details and get him in the air with an Instructor. He would not return until late June, if I recall.
We fast forward to a few days before 7/1, when Alex’s Mom called to say they were back and ready to go. I was fortunate to have off during the week of the Fourth (although it was tempered by yet another visit by a roving kidney stone) and invited them to Training Tuesdays on the 1st. Our current excellent Training Director- Bob M- was in attendance, and after introductions and pleasantries were exchanged, we got down to business.

Alex had brought a well worn but serviceable 3 channel “Cessna” type electric foamie sporting what looked like a 36 inch wingspan, which Bob checked out and pronounced ready for flight. The plan was to have me hand launch initially (although Alex indicated he had ROG’d with the supplied landing gear previously) and Bob trim out as necessary in the air, with Alex taking over once everything was good to go.
If ever there was a picture that exemplified Junior RC aircraft training at its best, I was flat-out staring at it as the next few minutes went by. By now Alex was, in fact, flying, and doing a very respectable job of it. Bob was doing his usual excellent job of lending a hand with his calm, streaming delivery of suggestions, instruction and commands (although not that many of the last category). Alex got two flights in before his batteries decided to call it a day. As he was walking back from retrieving the plane the last time around Bob confided with a chuckle that the kid flew better than half of the club. I couldn’t help but agree.
At this point I felt something was smacking me in the back of the head, or so it seemed. I turned around and peeked back at Alex’s Mom, who we had invited to sit next to the shed on one of our deluxe, world famous MAAW plastic chairs. I realized then that what I felt was the smile a kilometer or so wide on her face, as she watched her son enter another new social experience, and universe, in which he would learn and develop. Talk about radiating pride…
While all of this was going on, the skies to the East were starting to cloud up and turn that shade of Summer Darkness that is made all the more black as it contrasts with the setting sun in the cloudless West, over the river. I had gotten in a quick short flight with a Park Zone Focke Wulf I had brought along, and handed it over to Bob with a second battery pack for him to try out.
After being shown off (“… gee- it CAN fly upside down…”) I suggested he take Alex up with it while we still had some juice. There was lightning in the distance, and that smell of dense rain approaching, along with- a rainbow! Meanwhile, there was Alex flying the Focke Wulf beautifully around the field. Bob did the landing honors (yeah, I KNOW you went to school on my earlier humpty-bump arrival) and suddenly everyone was packing up and heading for the shelter of their vehicles.
I bid Alex and his Mom safe home. They told me they were going on vacation again to Russia, and would not be back until September. I told Alex to find a simulator and continue to practice. Something told me Alex would have preferred to wait a bit longer before leaving town. The last of us left the parking lot just as the curtain of rain descended. I was driving slowly down the hill- as the wipers kept a steady gentle tempo with the sheets of water on the windshield- thinking of Alex.
It had been a long time since I was involved in a New Beginning for a youngster starting to get his legs in the hobby. I had forgotten how those first successful “official” flights affect (and infect) everyone involved within striking distance of their epicenter- someone short on years, but long on enthusiasm and fascination. The kidney stone was talking to me again, but I didn’t notice- it had been a great early evening. Hope some of you get to meet Alex in the Fall. We could all take some tips from our newest, and youngest, pilot…

Until next time, fly safely, but FLY!