Mixing it up, style-wise. Wearing David’s Civil Air Patrol Jacket with his goggles and helmet to go up in the biplane last Saturday. I was a bit of a curiosity on the grounds, and eventually one fellow inquired which squadron I belonged to. I explained that it was my husband’s jacket, and he was with Mount Pocono in the 31st Wing.
My seatmate in the biplane happened to be the former Vice-Commander for New Jersey; 26 years in the Civil Air Patrol. He didn’t look much older than David, but despite getting his pilot’s license in 1981, 14 years ahead of David, he’d accumulated fewer hours in the air. (David had about 760 or so.) That was what David was trying to avoid — attaining rank meant more paperwork and less of what he liked best: aerospace education, especially the hands-on kind.
“My husband was enthusiastic about his o(rientation)-flights,” I said. “I think he held some kind of CAP record.”
I often think about the cadets David taught over the years and how highly he spoke of them. Tripp House was filled with uniforms on December 28, and some of David’s former cadets stood up and shared their stories to pay tribute. Some still keep in touch with me. I know David’s legacy extends beyond his occupational and social networks; I wore his Civil Air Patrol jacket on Saturday with pride.
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