Hearing this song reminds me of the first time I heard it. Not knowing the name, I crunched my brain into trying to figure out who made it.
The first time I heard this song was back in 2002. It was the first time I heard this song, and the first time I saw Sean D. Tucker perform in his Challenger II in its famous Oracle Red paint.
This was my second time at MCAS Miramar for the airshow. My first was in 2000...that year, I was bent on trying to make a career as an airshow pilot. Later, my political views and my view on war would dissuade me from performing at performing at military venues (let's get this straight...I'm a supporter of aviation. I am not a supporter of war. Airplanes know no boundaries. Neither should pilots). I could not live with myself knowing I performed at an airshow, where someone was inspired by my flying, and got into the military, only to kill. I do not want blood over my head. Absolutely not, but that's another story for another time.
I saw those colors in the sky...I saw those patterns in the sky...and it inspired me. Not to get into the military, but to fly. My high school years, I was obsessed about flight. This childhood love for flying grew incessantly, and continues to grow today.
"Paths of Water" is a song by Yanni that just so happened to be that song I heard at Sean D. Tucker's performance (which he still uses today). It's a beautiful song. And it's quite fitting with aerobatics...an alternative to the staccato of rock and pop that is normally heard with most other performers...this music adds a certain refinement to aerobatics, eliminating the view of "danger" and replacing it with "grace". Rather than aerobatics, it becomes more like "sky dancing". Your partner is the airplane, and your ballroom floor is the sky above the flightline.
Enjoy!
Showing posts with label aerobatics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aerobatics. Show all posts
27 April 2009
20 March 2009
Cecil Field Air Show...This One's For You, Alan...
I have been going to airshows for almost 20 years. I've learned a lot about the airshow industry (for a while, I even wanted to get into the airshow industry as a pilot). I have had dreams of Oshkosh, performing in front of a hundred thousand people, me, and my airplane, merging into one being, making the sky my canvas, the airplane my paintbrush.
This airshow is going to be a special one. And although it is a good distance away from me, I am contemplating going. The drive to and from Jacksonville, Florida, can be done within a day, as long as driving is done at night. And although the tickets are $10, it's still not bad. It's something that I am seriously considering going to.
Why am I so bent on attending this airshow?
Alan Henley, the lead pilot for the Aeroshell Flight Team (which I have had the joy to see three times since moving here to Florida), was in a tragic accident at home not too long ago. The accident left him paralyzed from the chest down. It gutted his flying career. But it has not gutted his love for aviation. And the love the industry has for him is also unwavering. The airshow industry took it hard when the accident occurred. He, and his team, was one of the movers and shakers of the industry. One thing is for certain. The industry was willing and able to help a fallen brother. And that is what this airshow is about.
This airshow is unlike any other one in the sense that the time alone is much longer than the typical airshow. Most airshows don't start until noon, maybe afterward, and end at around 4 PM. This one will start at 10 AM and end at 5 PM. A full SEVEN HOURS of airshow performances. And while on performances, 35 performers are currently slated to fly the show. All the big names of the industry will be there.
If anything, this airshow, in the aspect of civilian performances, may surpass Oshkosh (but of course, I wouldn't know, because I have yet to go to my first AirVenture). This has never been done before. Thirty-five civilian performers, a full seven hours of air time, and the primary purpose is charity. It's not about military recruitment, or patriotism, but about helping out a fallen aviator and his family. This may be the airshow in its purest sense of the word.
I'll try to head out to it.
Here is the video from Aero-TV, and the airshow's website.
Blue Skies and Tailwinds, Alan. And a speedy recovery!
This airshow is going to be a special one. And although it is a good distance away from me, I am contemplating going. The drive to and from Jacksonville, Florida, can be done within a day, as long as driving is done at night. And although the tickets are $10, it's still not bad. It's something that I am seriously considering going to.
Why am I so bent on attending this airshow?
Alan Henley, the lead pilot for the Aeroshell Flight Team (which I have had the joy to see three times since moving here to Florida), was in a tragic accident at home not too long ago. The accident left him paralyzed from the chest down. It gutted his flying career. But it has not gutted his love for aviation. And the love the industry has for him is also unwavering. The airshow industry took it hard when the accident occurred. He, and his team, was one of the movers and shakers of the industry. One thing is for certain. The industry was willing and able to help a fallen brother. And that is what this airshow is about.
This airshow is unlike any other one in the sense that the time alone is much longer than the typical airshow. Most airshows don't start until noon, maybe afterward, and end at around 4 PM. This one will start at 10 AM and end at 5 PM. A full SEVEN HOURS of airshow performances. And while on performances, 35 performers are currently slated to fly the show. All the big names of the industry will be there.
If anything, this airshow, in the aspect of civilian performances, may surpass Oshkosh (but of course, I wouldn't know, because I have yet to go to my first AirVenture). This has never been done before. Thirty-five civilian performers, a full seven hours of air time, and the primary purpose is charity. It's not about military recruitment, or patriotism, but about helping out a fallen aviator and his family. This may be the airshow in its purest sense of the word.
I'll try to head out to it.
Here is the video from Aero-TV, and the airshow's website.
Blue Skies and Tailwinds, Alan. And a speedy recovery!
16 November 2008
My First Airshow...El Toro '93
Imagine a warm, sunny day in Orange County, California. Back in 1993, when Marine Corps Air Station El Toro was still open and holding its annual airshow, my family went for the first time. And it was an experience. I had never been around so many airplanes, nor had I been so close to both civilian and military planes alike (I was one of those boys in elementary schools who had practically learned a good portion of the inventory of the US arsenal that had wings on it). But I had no preference. Both were cool.
I remember seeing the Red Barons fly for the first time there. Hearing those roaring Stearmans flying, and seeing them fly a graceful show was something.
Seeing Patty Wagstaff fly for the first time in my life. That was also inspiring.
The USAF Thunderbirds were there as well. It was the first time I saw an F-16 fly in person. Of course, I was 6 years old at the time. And, on top of that, one fly over me.
It was also the first time I saw aviation's ugly side. An F-86 Sabre, pulling out of a loop way too low slams against the flightline, and created a huge fireball. One larger than the controlled pyrotechnics of the air attack demonstration. That one made the ground shake significantly. The explosion caught my attention, and I looked to see a huge plume of smoke, in three different colors: white, yellow, and black. I was too short to see what was going on, and I heard my dad say, "He crashed...". I stood on my tiptoes to see what happened, but to no avail. At the time, I had no compulsion to do anything but watch and try to see what would happen next. A lot like Ernest K. Gann's experience when he saw a DC-3 crash, sitting in a jeep with another pilot, and so suddenly, and insidiously stunned, that they were unable to do anything to help.
I never thought that I would see a plane crash in person. And although some memories of that day were foggy, I remember the atmosphere felt different.
The airshow went on, however. The civilian acts continued, and the Thunderbirds did fly. By that time, I had forgotten about the crash. I was in aviation-sensory-overload, seeing so many airplanes fly, and being around so many people who went for one thing: to see planes and pilots do what they do best. To fly. Watching in the same awe that people had when barnstormers flew into their towns and gave rides, or even daring aerobatic acts in their biplanes.
From what I understand and remember, the pilot of the Vietnam-era F-86 unfortunately died.
You can download the video here, and you will see the crash that I, and about 200,000 other people saw.
I have read in the scant accounts of that event that many people left after the crash. I have also read accounts of airshow enthusiasts driving home mid-show right after a crash. As if they cannot stomach the rest of the show. And with such a bitter note that an accident brings, who can blame them? I never understood it until reflecting on what I experienced that day over 15 years ago.
Since then, I have not seen a plane crash in person. But I have seen airshow pilots perform during one of their last airshows, like Eric Beard, Jimmy Franklin, Bobby Younkin and Jim LeRoy. Seeing such great pilots fall is something that all aviation enthusiasts feel pain in. A heavy, hard pain. Seeing their acts, and sharing their love for flight and adventure creates a bond between performer and attendee, pilot and spectator, aviator to dreamer. I nearly cried when I heard about those fine men losing their lives doing what they loved. It hurts the airshow industry by fueling the reputation that airshows are dangerous. It hurts pilots because it hurts their professional reputation. It hurts enthusiasts and fans dearly, because they lost a figure, a friend.
I still attend airshows, and obviously, I still love flying, of course. I had been attending airshows for years, and will continue to do so for years to come. Flying is something beautiful, too beautiful to keep to yourself. It needs to be shared. You embrace the good in that it provides wonderful memories for life. You also learn to embrace the bad, since each accident has a lesson that all pilots should learn. It's why I am so bent on becoming a pilot. And it's why I'm pursuing a minor in aviation safety at ERAU (my major is professional aeronautics). Each error has a lesson to be learned. And, although there is no such thing as a working crystal ball, anticipating such errors, be it in airmanship or in design, is key. The latter can only go so far, and though morbid in thought, it will take an error of the scale of an incident or accident for all pilots to learn something. Though it is not a positive experience, it is part of "growing pains", so to speak, in our pilot careers.
Blue Skies and Tailwinds to all.
I remember seeing the Red Barons fly for the first time there. Hearing those roaring Stearmans flying, and seeing them fly a graceful show was something.
Seeing Patty Wagstaff fly for the first time in my life. That was also inspiring.
The USAF Thunderbirds were there as well. It was the first time I saw an F-16 fly in person. Of course, I was 6 years old at the time. And, on top of that, one fly over me.
It was also the first time I saw aviation's ugly side. An F-86 Sabre, pulling out of a loop way too low slams against the flightline, and created a huge fireball. One larger than the controlled pyrotechnics of the air attack demonstration. That one made the ground shake significantly. The explosion caught my attention, and I looked to see a huge plume of smoke, in three different colors: white, yellow, and black. I was too short to see what was going on, and I heard my dad say, "He crashed...". I stood on my tiptoes to see what happened, but to no avail. At the time, I had no compulsion to do anything but watch and try to see what would happen next. A lot like Ernest K. Gann's experience when he saw a DC-3 crash, sitting in a jeep with another pilot, and so suddenly, and insidiously stunned, that they were unable to do anything to help.
I never thought that I would see a plane crash in person. And although some memories of that day were foggy, I remember the atmosphere felt different.
The airshow went on, however. The civilian acts continued, and the Thunderbirds did fly. By that time, I had forgotten about the crash. I was in aviation-sensory-overload, seeing so many airplanes fly, and being around so many people who went for one thing: to see planes and pilots do what they do best. To fly. Watching in the same awe that people had when barnstormers flew into their towns and gave rides, or even daring aerobatic acts in their biplanes.
From what I understand and remember, the pilot of the Vietnam-era F-86 unfortunately died.
You can download the video here, and you will see the crash that I, and about 200,000 other people saw.
I have read in the scant accounts of that event that many people left after the crash. I have also read accounts of airshow enthusiasts driving home mid-show right after a crash. As if they cannot stomach the rest of the show. And with such a bitter note that an accident brings, who can blame them? I never understood it until reflecting on what I experienced that day over 15 years ago.
Since then, I have not seen a plane crash in person. But I have seen airshow pilots perform during one of their last airshows, like Eric Beard, Jimmy Franklin, Bobby Younkin and Jim LeRoy. Seeing such great pilots fall is something that all aviation enthusiasts feel pain in. A heavy, hard pain. Seeing their acts, and sharing their love for flight and adventure creates a bond between performer and attendee, pilot and spectator, aviator to dreamer. I nearly cried when I heard about those fine men losing their lives doing what they loved. It hurts the airshow industry by fueling the reputation that airshows are dangerous. It hurts pilots because it hurts their professional reputation. It hurts enthusiasts and fans dearly, because they lost a figure, a friend.
I still attend airshows, and obviously, I still love flying, of course. I had been attending airshows for years, and will continue to do so for years to come. Flying is something beautiful, too beautiful to keep to yourself. It needs to be shared. You embrace the good in that it provides wonderful memories for life. You also learn to embrace the bad, since each accident has a lesson that all pilots should learn. It's why I am so bent on becoming a pilot. And it's why I'm pursuing a minor in aviation safety at ERAU (my major is professional aeronautics). Each error has a lesson to be learned. And, although there is no such thing as a working crystal ball, anticipating such errors, be it in airmanship or in design, is key. The latter can only go so far, and though morbid in thought, it will take an error of the scale of an incident or accident for all pilots to learn something. Though it is not a positive experience, it is part of "growing pains", so to speak, in our pilot careers.
Blue Skies and Tailwinds to all.
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