tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591915516727969122024-02-18T20:08:40.783-08:00BONNIE TIBURZI CAPUTO'S BUZZAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-16749392180844497452014-01-23T09:00:00.000-08:002014-01-23T09:00:24.057-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>WHAT COULD BE BETTER THAN A SNOW DAY!</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogVVt8bOnJnDffr_BOBs5KQsX_6q8WfbV5Vrx5YiKpq6Jglu2va2t3VQxyUyor_tstIB8K9iOWvIzIb7FQ6-WnkS9igtIBoVZCe-h2L5rfZTpoSNd83KvGlgBqVox0FU_HKDBJFLFRsE/s1600/aal+snowglobe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiogVVt8bOnJnDffr_BOBs5KQsX_6q8WfbV5Vrx5YiKpq6Jglu2va2t3VQxyUyor_tstIB8K9iOWvIzIb7FQ6-WnkS9igtIBoVZCe-h2L5rfZTpoSNd83KvGlgBqVox0FU_HKDBJFLFRsE/s1600/aal+snowglobe.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday was a snow day here on the East Coast. The temperature began to plummet during the early morning hours and just after sunrise the snow began to fall. Only a few fluffy flakes at first sparsely coating the tree branches. Hardcore joggers were out barely clothed for the temperature, newspapers were being delivered from a van slipping and sliding up the street and I was bundling up to go out and shovel my sidewalk before the children began to arrive</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at the school adjacent to our house. It was 7:00 in the morning. By 8:00 the day was in full blast as was the predicted blizzard dropping the most thickly packed snow flakes I had ever seen. I had shoveled and salted our sidewalk four times within the hour.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was in Snow Day Heaven!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though I've been retired for 15 years now I still completely appreciate days like these when I don't have to worry that I might get that dreaded phone call from Crew Scheduling asking/telling me to rearrange my life to help fix the flight cancellations going on around the nation due to weather. When the weather is acting up a pilot, no matter how senior, no matter prior plans, is on standby status. A pilot's life is not their own and that actually should be OK because it is what we signed up for the day we were hired into our dream job. In reality however you hope that phone never rings - but go figure, it always does -</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "Captain how long will it take you to get to JFK? We need you to ferry a plane to <i>wherever</i>!"<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwduBqxG-itB2YzipruVTwDfUsGd1fp6XzRcd6o9eM1gD9K50JpihwFuuia7HxOesdQPedzaHeTv0OAmlqWYZLcBih5Vzu3aq2XX1t3lDUqXrASiFonm3QzesFdgzMp2y9jHTbCQRW-X8/s1600/cockpit+covered+in+snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwduBqxG-itB2YzipruVTwDfUsGd1fp6XzRcd6o9eM1gD9K50JpihwFuuia7HxOesdQPedzaHeTv0OAmlqWYZLcBih5Vzu3aq2XX1t3lDUqXrASiFonm3QzesFdgzMp2y9jHTbCQRW-X8/s1600/cockpit+covered+in+snow.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>A snowcovered airplane parked at the gate<br />Photo downloaded from the internet</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christmas, New Years, Easter, hurricanes, kids birthdays, champion lacrosse games - no exceptions! If Crew Schedule needs you, you go.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01ELAVpKQvMs2kR7u-9xHtkBJGGDPSJQFuVb6Hxro9Vc3ErENZ_odF2ZNn3bx3XBhi5szRE94YXkpQVBfENu2oPp02s9AWxNIIjULSpAaR16bw3OhM6NBYkr-nI1Sku37Gtdmelolqxg/s1600/snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01ELAVpKQvMs2kR7u-9xHtkBJGGDPSJQFuVb6Hxro9Vc3ErENZ_odF2ZNn3bx3XBhi5szRE94YXkpQVBfENu2oPp02s9AWxNIIjULSpAaR16bw3OhM6NBYkr-nI1Sku37Gtdmelolqxg/s1600/snow.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Boeing 767 being shoveled out and de-iced<br />Photo downloaded from the internet</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I must say once you drag yourself to the airport you shift into high gear, it's exhilarating - a team of people, your colleagues - the crew, the dispatchers, crew scheduling, the mechanics, the ticket agents, the cabin cleaners - are all working together to put the puzzle back together and begin the process of getting your airline back to normal and flying again.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After all the complaining the reality is you live for these moments. A life separate from your family life but a really good life all the same.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3lW7ofUjk-_AG1naXUhBaDoK7UfLjLYOg_M6kMod4YoPCh4rCZpcwbgaGfyTiPXGjJ5cWPxeeL6uNr6tC7m71yR4CrKk7aUm3MeFWpBlbk4kjGgtFmPKcLW5wy5KmN24EzrDAI2A0KCI/s1600/props+in+snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3lW7ofUjk-_AG1naXUhBaDoK7UfLjLYOg_M6kMod4YoPCh4rCZpcwbgaGfyTiPXGjJ5cWPxeeL6uNr6tC7m71yR4CrKk7aUm3MeFWpBlbk4kjGgtFmPKcLW5wy5KmN24EzrDAI2A0KCI/s1600/props+in+snow.jpg" height="227" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>I love this photo - only the props are visible above the snow</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo downloaded from the internet</i></span></div>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me it is all about my family now and that is certainly why yesterday was a such a great day! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After shoveling and salting for the eight time I met my son Tony for lunch :o)</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-2176926295551674282014-01-19T14:46:00.000-08:002014-01-19T14:46:01.953-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Welcome to the New Year!</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWgSmG2YInaQv_6ZoKtcxceXhV-KamY0wMFnuFGlWX7rrjQFH2zWzAgkYobT1r-S-FDa1h0Gf_FSd2LPLT0tdVGwnQyhEwmHElXtAQG7zc3MTubcRgm2hqx2xikeeGxbeaw47B3nyKuk/s1600/IMG_0199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWgSmG2YInaQv_6ZoKtcxceXhV-KamY0wMFnuFGlWX7rrjQFH2zWzAgkYobT1r-S-FDa1h0Gf_FSd2LPLT0tdVGwnQyhEwmHElXtAQG7zc3MTubcRgm2hqx2xikeeGxbeaw47B3nyKuk/s1600/IMG_0199.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I hope the remaining 345 days in 2014 will be happy, healthy, safe and jolly. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">So far my New Year has be terrific. Not for any big, particular reason other than my husband and I went to our place on the East Coast of South Florida for a week. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">For me Florida is a magical place. </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">It is another planet - worlds away from </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">the hustle bustle of New York City - </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">but definitely an energy all</span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"> its own energy.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8b4gZSZ-nn_fHCRDkrFmoqDgCv_JRsuVwnfGJrfITwqvRcdhQF6TzyM6_jQP1qZ-fBGv2qlKlafk4bMjRjnz2iHkO20A3AXP5gtY46IAfeHSfCXaMeXJ5Yh4WJSuVxj5lQ_wfkH1pvk/s1600/DSCN2067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS8b4gZSZ-nn_fHCRDkrFmoqDgCv_JRsuVwnfGJrfITwqvRcdhQF6TzyM6_jQP1qZ-fBGv2qlKlafk4bMjRjnz2iHkO20A3AXP5gtY46IAfeHSfCXaMeXJ5Yh4WJSuVxj5lQ_wfkH1pvk/s1600/DSCN2067.JPG" height="199" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We woke each morning before sunrise and went </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">down to the seawall with a freshly brewed cup of coffee and sat </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">where the beach meets the ocean. </span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The anticipation of the sun peeking up over the horizon starts minutes before it actually makes its debut but the sky begins to give pastel glues long before the suns arrival. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUl4n0fL97jnb7Ad7Od8JxQBn5et-yX0iEYVF1QctFj9QmQ5B5_o4sJPbHh5dJaiTnV71-wxxMDXHl81hl7RkXuIY0FLaxzEqO6RbX2w32zODKbz1_PR2Qa3I5weurlSL4lz_AqFoAp4/s1600/DSCN2060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUl4n0fL97jnb7Ad7Od8JxQBn5et-yX0iEYVF1QctFj9QmQ5B5_o4sJPbHh5dJaiTnV71-wxxMDXHl81hl7RkXuIY0FLaxzEqO6RbX2w32zODKbz1_PR2Qa3I5weurlSL4lz_AqFoAp4/s1600/DSCN2060.JPG" height="193" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The dark sky begins to lighten and the stars fade away opening up the horizon to an incredibly pale blue - almost white - sky. The stratus clouds turn light pink and then transition into orange. </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The mini-size cumluous clouds have deep gray bottoms and shimmering white tops - sometimes lined with a few golden sunbeams highlighting their shapes. </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You understand that the day is not quite ready to begin - not yet. The air is still regardless if the sea is silky smooth or angry. It's peaceful all the same - just waiting, anticipating something wonderful.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When daytime finally arrives the sky turns its predictable shades of blue, the clouds a variety of white and gray and the ocean turns from charcoal to a number of different hues of green and blue. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>Good Morning to the New Day!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Personal moments with nature like these describes my life as a pilot. I often said the part of flying I will miss the most are the skyscapes - and I do. They can be unpredictable at times but skyscapes are always fascinatingly beautiful. Looking out from 33,000 feet the sunrises, sunsets and moonrises are like skyscapes on steroids - a kaleidoscope of colors wrapped 270 degrees around the plane.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I was still flying I often wished I could have asked each and every passenger to come up to the cockpit and see what what I was experiencing - </span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <i><b>The view of a lifetime!</b></i></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-837983609064385032013-12-15T10:13:00.001-08:002013-12-15T10:13:24.428-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>Friends Celebrating Friends</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcim3ScT_XA8W9nAqsZzZWv3FK24fmEa5jTDb3guOjzXAC7DsiVy-RSTA_Sl3GtdBLJBlXNMV78vRdCtRZmSwbK5eAssS9ompdmS_4C6B63ZSXPCtQ0a4CaIuvgesNwkVJ0v5dHA6qzNQ/s1600/IMG_0932.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcim3ScT_XA8W9nAqsZzZWv3FK24fmEa5jTDb3guOjzXAC7DsiVy-RSTA_Sl3GtdBLJBlXNMV78vRdCtRZmSwbK5eAssS9ompdmS_4C6B63ZSXPCtQ0a4CaIuvgesNwkVJ0v5dHA6qzNQ/s320/IMG_0932.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For twenty-six years with American Airlines I ate my meals from a flimsy tray balanced haphazardly on my lap while enjoying the view at 37,000 feet.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Only after retiring as an airline pilot did my schedule allow me to discover the pleasures of dining with my earthbound friends - girlfriends - and usually at a table. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a wonderful way for me to transition from "one of the boys" to "one of the girls."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I certainly appreciate sharing a meal with someone other than the autopilot.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Two nights ago, on a cold snowy night in New York, was one of those special moments.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went to a fun filled surprise party for my friend Lynn's 60th birthday. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even though there were only about 20 guests all crowded into a tiny Upper East Side restaurant </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the celebration was spectacular.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaD4cYBf-Rj36iPlKOSibEuqW0-8ZBaVapGmfbuzddgYtdB7DoHsoWpxfUVZZMPdADl3-9E-e8lDHplJgv-BwVLQJBxesPXdWeNE7lRAaDR2tvmF7VW1JE9GjJ16jhmQU_kADAVcjYVs/s1600/IMG_0909.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYaD4cYBf-Rj36iPlKOSibEuqW0-8ZBaVapGmfbuzddgYtdB7DoHsoWpxfUVZZMPdADl3-9E-e8lDHplJgv-BwVLQJBxesPXdWeNE7lRAaDR2tvmF7VW1JE9GjJ16jhmQU_kADAVcjYVs/s200/IMG_0909.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Nichola, the birthday girl and Caroline</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The mixture of old friends, brand new friends and young friends from my daughter's Brearley School class of 2004 filled the space with non-stop chatter and laughter. I loved seeing bunches of women here and there enjoying the moment and each other.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Truly, the best part of the evening for me was knowing that it was Lynn's daughters, Nichola and Caroline, who organized the birthday bash. To begin with they chose a cozy space that probably measures only </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">12'x20' yet somehow they managed to squeeze in a </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">long L-shaped table. Then they decorated the table with white linen, votive candles and red kalanchoes in shiny silver mint julep cups.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Nichola in front of the wall mounted menu. <br />The food was of course French.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The hint of red was echoed with red bandanas given to each of the party goers along with French berets and moustaches applied with black eyeliner all leading up to the ultimate birthday gift - A TRIP TO PARIS FOR THREE!!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="font-size: large;"> <i>OOH LAH LAH!</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am always inspired by the creativity and imagination of my friends, their children and family with the ways they celebrate a special event or even a day.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In <i>The Day of Pooh,</i> Pooh suggests he visits his friends to wish them "a very happy Thursday."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The childhood favorite may seem silly, but I agree with Pooh. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Any excuse to be with friends is a good excuse and any time is the perfect time! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6asEKHtiho6XxQX6MxSOTbQ3ho1nGd_3_KWJBqx0me70hcSsMNKNKQcF2hZw6smAcZMjDKCOaDwpML_C3n9n0j7B6KKDAL04Pwy0mDmPfrbohYQKKuszSaM3BwM-PUBBBNu-F0k721Ko/s1600/photo+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></i></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6asEKHtiho6XxQX6MxSOTbQ3ho1nGd_3_KWJBqx0me70hcSsMNKNKQcF2hZw6smAcZMjDKCOaDwpML_C3n9n0j7B6KKDAL04Pwy0mDmPfrbohYQKKuszSaM3BwM-PUBBBNu-F0k721Ko/s1600/photo+(9).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br /></i></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-64650517236818159552013-07-11T10:14:00.000-07:002013-07-11T10:14:00.173-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Halfway between the earth and sky one seems to be closer to God.</b></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>There is a peace of mind and heart, </i></span><i style="color: #0b5394;">a satisfaction </i></b></div>
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<i style="color: #0b5394;"><b>that walls cannot give.</b></i></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Flying is a symbol of freedom from limitations"</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Barnstormer Margery Brown - 1920</b></i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdD4TpBSZChP4vymAUIr4cg3EVupq9BgJ96SlLBf6aWHMeTU9BuvplYI9Nf60FdJDdbqS3UtsK8tkFr0A0FVeqHgzzaWAdduACkkw9NDokX8fRH_2LM7L-e2_Rw3nv8q6EAfSwuKjJxw/s1600/jetplane+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIdD4TpBSZChP4vymAUIr4cg3EVupq9BgJ96SlLBf6aWHMeTU9BuvplYI9Nf60FdJDdbqS3UtsK8tkFr0A0FVeqHgzzaWAdduACkkw9NDokX8fRH_2LM7L-e2_Rw3nv8q6EAfSwuKjJxw/s320/jetplane+001.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">SKYWARD Why Flyers Fly<br />by Russel Munson</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's soundless in the cockpit of a jetliner. You sense the wind and the wisps of clouds rushing by. You see the ground 24,000 feet below and watch weather patterns, sunsets and moon rises off in the distance. But you can't hear a thing. I love the silence.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time also seems to freeze as you chase the sun westward and prolong dusk miles above the earth's surface. Beryl Markham, in her lovely 1942 memoirs, <i>West with the Night,</i> describes the quiet, immensely private thrill of piloting a plane by flying westward, on the tails of night itself. A solo traveler and navigator of the skies, she belonged to the first crop of female aviators, whose daring exploration of the skies shaped modern day air travel during gallant flights in glorious solitude.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What I later discovered by flying myself and learning about my aviation predecessors that solo flights - capsules of solitude - are opportunities for self-fulfillment and capturing each moment with clarity. It was an unspoken common thread female </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pilots seemed to share. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Flying was their sanctuary - their time alone - precious moments for themselves. It was intensely personal time: time to cast aside the daily routine of an earthbound existence in, what was then, a narrow society. It was precious slivers of time, whittled from their lives so that they could be who they wanted to be. It was their moment to live their dreams at a time when society was telling them that their dreams didn't belong to them.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5l5JgWrO1ERw5j6lVv4zUUnxrZ_FLfciPGQ5a9pZ0d-ofCLfDYM8z9SsYsEp7yBrszCUcpg5KJm81jyIo4tCpanLhRZKx58KhbUMzUbpydsikawjTPbVCsTHi7iHjoKbSRLkf-7Enew8/s1600/amy+johnson+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5l5JgWrO1ERw5j6lVv4zUUnxrZ_FLfciPGQ5a9pZ0d-ofCLfDYM8z9SsYsEp7yBrszCUcpg5KJm81jyIo4tCpanLhRZKx58KhbUMzUbpydsikawjTPbVCsTHi7iHjoKbSRLkf-7Enew8/s320/amy+johnson+001.jpg" width="235" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Amy Johnson<br />Photo credit - Women Aloft<br />by Time-Life Books</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 1930 British secretary turned aviator Amy Johnson said, "There is nothing more wonderful and thrilling than going up into the spaciousness of the skies in a tiny plane where you feel alone, at peace with everyone, and exactly free to do what you want and go where you will and you need not come down to earth until your petrol runs out."</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think everyone can identify in someway to Amy's thoughts. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My fascination with flying has also been personal. There is no organized or even verbalized prayer in the cockpit, but there is a sense of reverie. There is something awesome about taking flight, something mysterious,not begin earthbound - alone with one's thoughts - clear</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">uncluttered thoughts, with room to appreciate the spellbinding beauty of the atmosphere and uninterrupted freedom to be yourself. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Earhart reflected that, "You haven't seen a tree until you've seen its shadow from the sky." And Anne Morrow Lindbergh, the shy retiring wife of the famous Charles, was so retiring and so lyrical a writer about what she called "the fundamental magic of flying" and "peering through the ruffled surface of life to a calmness down below" that people forgot she was also a capable pilot, navigator and radio operator.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The airplanes I flew were a miraculous balance of metal and nature not unlike the everyday balance of one's life. Unlike today, flying was risky business when my favorite aviatrix flew. Our lives are privileged in comparison, more secure, but perhaps not as fulfilling. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZwNwZjT81Zyp2QhLpp6gNYlpMQ0t6M4HKt1tOgoHUzaaq7_ckWcsEcERwWW0C5i1uLFXxDJVv-UIWiBS7eNFCA5AM9lP3nIWAXtYzXhKwm-1c-ZBP4RXR-ZSJDeLKWty_3KPBxQzGaY/s1600/aviatrix+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRZwNwZjT81Zyp2QhLpp6gNYlpMQ0t6M4HKt1tOgoHUzaaq7_ckWcsEcERwWW0C5i1uLFXxDJVv-UIWiBS7eNFCA5AM9lP3nIWAXtYzXhKwm-1c-ZBP4RXR-ZSJDeLKWty_3KPBxQzGaY/s320/aviatrix+001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">From left to right, Louise Thaden,Bobbi Trout, Patty Willis, Marvel Crosson, </span><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;"> Blanche Noyes, Vera Walker, Amelia Earhart, Marjorie Crawford, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"> Ruth Elder and Florence "Pancho" Barnes with their trophies from the 1929 Women's Air Derby.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Photo credit - Women Aloft by Time-Life Books</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Old black and white photographs capture my pioneer buddies - they all seem tall, reserved and glamorous. Usually with eyes slightly hidden in the shade of the sun, they seem starry-eyed yet pragmatic standing with their airplanes. They have seen countless horizons. They were adventuresome and at the same time had respect for the enormous beauty of the atmosphere </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and natural forces, as well as the mechanics and science that lifted them into the sky in the first place.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can easily see why there becomes a cultural love and respect from and for other aviators - both male and female - that bonds us all to the skies.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And perhaps the most challenging part of life is simply taking time to enjoy the view.</span>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-78200547618630036142013-05-16T05:39:00.000-07:002013-12-24T07:03:45.577-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>IT'S YOUR LIFE, LIVE IT TO THE MAX!</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2My0Nbq79MM_fB6pMIm_etBfe-hWgjjjWlRJfSqfH7_uarVj7-cyhy0UPSbR6OvCmuYiWWdYdxxrCpk2SVhDFPAFLkYlTgEGbtFx6wEkTkncQa6Vit0pa_wXveKJT8IcDWZzLJ25dNI/s1600/snoopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2My0Nbq79MM_fB6pMIm_etBfe-hWgjjjWlRJfSqfH7_uarVj7-cyhy0UPSbR6OvCmuYiWWdYdxxrCpk2SVhDFPAFLkYlTgEGbtFx6wEkTkncQa6Vit0pa_wXveKJT8IcDWZzLJ25dNI/s1600/snoopy.jpg" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I think there has always been a primal, human fascination with flying from Icarus and his wax wings to those fabulous </span><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Young Men in their Flying Machines. </i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Flight symbolizes freedom, adventure and danger. Until the Wright brothers finally lifted off the ground, man's yearning to conquer the skies was intertwined with fantasy myth, and adventures with manifested in many cultures and many forms including flying carpets, flying horses, </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Superman and even Snoopy in his aviator goggles. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
<span style="color: #0b5394;">Don't you think there is romance, magic and heroism in the myth of the early aviators and a possibility for this in life itself. It is exciting stuff and a</span><span style="color: #0b5394;">ctors chosen to play pilots are nearly always dashing heroes, the Errol Flynn types.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let's face it - the pioneer aviators were sexy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0b5394;">In the mid-Sixties my high school guidance counselor warned, "Look Bonnie if your sole ambition and talents are to become a pilot, then you'll grow up to be nothing." This was at a time when the nation was in the thick of ratifying the Equal Rights Amendment. Betty Friedan published the <i>Feminine Mystique </i>and Gloria Steinem introduced<i> Ms </i>Magazine. Women were breaking out of stereotypes yet a female guidance counselor was telling a young girl that she could not do what she wanted because she was a mere girl. Weren't we encouraged to find something we liked to do and then to pursue it with a sense of genuine purpose and happiness? There was a real momentum going here.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Had we learned nothing from those early female flyers?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVF9fCwssUFbPbN8DJskqeuWkq-GcquFTo1iikHdHL97489JHaIJBrDSL38RuWzLP7iNvgBlA6pjU-WfOgEGqaONNVqYuZN6h-Zqx11FDkT_28J2iHpUX8VtEAxAUgRjrb5hloMlXGk0I/s1600/delaroche002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVF9fCwssUFbPbN8DJskqeuWkq-GcquFTo1iikHdHL97489JHaIJBrDSL38RuWzLP7iNvgBlA6pjU-WfOgEGqaONNVqYuZN6h-Zqx11FDkT_28J2iHpUX8VtEAxAUgRjrb5hloMlXGk0I/s200/delaroche002.jpg" width="135" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue;">Baroness Raymonde de Laroche</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Being an excruciatingly shy teenager at the time I didn't have the nerve to tell</span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> my guidance counselor that even when it was considered rather bold for women to drive automobiles the self-proclaimed French Baroness Raymonde de Laroche - who had herself driven racing cars - learned to fly one of Gabriel and Charles Voisin's first aircraft ever built. It was a contraption resembling two cardboard boxes held together by blind faith. Granted the idea of flying two cardboard boxes had little appeal for me but airplane design had come a long way since the turn of the 20th Century.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sometimes imagined I was the Baroness - well connected in French society and a famous stage performer combined with drop dead gorgeous looks. Being her I would have no </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">trouble convincing someone that flying was for me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagination - perhaps that is how dreams actually do come to life.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was impressed by the Baroness's bold approach to life truly living it to the max. After her first flight with Charles Voisin she proclaimed, "This is the way we humans are meant to travel." I bet onlookers and aviators were dazzled by her natural skill as a flyer and her incredible allure.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIrafwyzLUlgX5FQmj0E9bEzn_n7Y8f7KQ-uwlXfkFf6uieD0VvckJ38l20EgPCedzyBeVIn6wtPs7WwJclu2G7M4EHgYiZUzwFIhwbjgfmpKpogYRZtwlEIMxOqpt01lcQiv05AG_s8/s1600/delaroche1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIrafwyzLUlgX5FQmj0E9bEzn_n7Y8f7KQ-uwlXfkFf6uieD0VvckJ38l20EgPCedzyBeVIn6wtPs7WwJclu2G7M4EHgYiZUzwFIhwbjgfmpKpogYRZtwlEIMxOqpt01lcQiv05AG_s8/s200/delaroche1.jpg" width="198" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> In-other-words she was hot!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think for the Baroness flying was the role of a lifetime and she went after her new found passion with a combination of guts and gusto. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Remarkably this took place in 1910 - just two years after practical airplanes were in the air. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not to fill you with too many facts all at once, but also in 1910, across the Atlantic, a little pit bull of a gal - measuring 5'1" tall in boots and bonnet - named Blanche Stuart Scott popped onto the aviation scene. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Totally taken with the thought of being airborne the feisty redhead had to do some heavy coaxing to get the famous aircraft designer Glenn Curtiss to teacher to fly. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was less than a seismic request since flyers were beginning to buzz around the powder blue skies in record numbers. But Curtiss apparently thought no one was as capable a pilot as he was especially - God forbid - a woman. He apparently told anyone in earshot Scott was to be his first and last female student. I suspected that Curtiss wasn't concerned in the least about Scott's safety but for his glossy reputation as an aircraft designer and builder and his precious flying machine that looked like an anorexic insect that sprayed heaps of hot castrol oil on its pilot's face and clothes.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYaNa0UpqWv3qnAecEJQRIlL7L_Cb00_z2ygVV5pXipcgoXQP9Go7puXJNRQ82QJhdrZeKKrCChqDzjY3pS3P2tY8c9FrhQj5aj7jkEp_HOttjVJ6m4tAYCTJr7lqmIO9xIaWdE3u2dM/s1600/250px-Bundesarchiv_Bild_183-B02092,_Hanna_Reitsch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRYaNa0UpqWv3qnAecEJQRIlL7L_Cb00_z2ygVV5pXipcgoXQP9Go7puXJNRQ82QJhdrZeKKrCChqDzjY3pS3P2tY8c9FrhQj5aj7jkEp_HOttjVJ6m4tAYCTJr7lqmIO9xIaWdE3u2dM/s200/250px-Bundesarchiv_Bild_183-B02092,_Hanna_Reitsch.jpg" width="141" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Hanna Reitsch</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet for all his chest beating Curtiss knew, and Scott knew, she was a natural. By her own admission Scott had a "yen for machinery."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few decades later a starry eyed little girl with her head in the clouds, 19 year old German glider pilot Hanna Reitsch, standing a fraction over 5 feet tall and never pushing the scale passed 90 pounds, desire to fly began with an image of flying like, "The storks in their quiet and steady flight and the buzzards circling ever higher in the summer air." And soon Hanna would discover that flying was indeed, "Potent, yet gentle, like some seductive wine, the fever of flying descended on me coursing through me to my very fingertips."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think 1930's German air racer Thea Rasche summed it up best when she said, "Flying was more thrilling than love for a man and far less dangerous."</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You've got to love these gals!</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-20962463216494265832013-03-03T12:50:00.001-08:002013-03-03T12:50:14.496-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><i>"The Joy of Accomplishment"</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>"The joy of achievement has no gender. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>It doesn't not mean beating anyone at anyone else's game. </i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>It simply means doing the best you can with what you have, whoever you are;</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>it's being true to oneself."</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amelia Earhart</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6XoWC6Nro6bz2VYutSvFHFVEZCfl6kOoRtEjDd-tG-Ph-Mjt2UZDxW8wcXj2Q22SfxJafKRd2rv9RpdqYN0loMQlZL03bBI53KQAdVKXGyX2I1oxaxy3yYaZtq2ok4YnYukHA86nBkKM/s1600/001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6XoWC6Nro6bz2VYutSvFHFVEZCfl6kOoRtEjDd-tG-Ph-Mjt2UZDxW8wcXj2Q22SfxJafKRd2rv9RpdqYN0loMQlZL03bBI53KQAdVKXGyX2I1oxaxy3yYaZtq2ok4YnYukHA86nBkKM/s320/001.jpg" width="233" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ruth Law getting some well deserved<br />recognition after her record breaking flight. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When Earhart made these remarks perhaps she was thinking of Ruth Law, whose non-stop Chicago to New York flight in 1915 made her the first woman to fly at night. Numbed by freezing temperatures, piloting a rickety 100-horsepower Curtiss Pusher biplane perched on something resembling a lawn chair fastened to the root of the wing, she also broke two other records that day - American non-stop cross-country flight for men and for women and longest non-stop cross-country flight for women anywhere in the world. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At a prestigious Hotel Astor dinner in her honor, attended by President Wilson and the </span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">First Lady, one speaker noted that a man could merit a dinner easily enough as a <i>"Mason or a naughty Elk", but "for a woman to sit in glory at the Hotel Astor she must do something superhuman."</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Superhuman indeed.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She dared to fly faster and higher than anyone before her, in dark, cold and nasty skies. Not only that, she pioneered in an era unaccustomed to women voting much less flaunting bold loops and spectacular stunts in the middle of the night - did I mention Law was an aerobatic pilot as well!</span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Doing all this made Ruth Law an instant celebrity but by her own account she did not do it for the fame or the fortune and with "<i>no expectations of rewards", but for "the pure joy of accomplishment" </i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In 1935 aviator Jean Batten, a New Zealand stunner said it so well after her flight in a closed-cockpit Percival Gull monoplane on a non-stop flight across the dark stretches of the Atlantic from Africa to South America - <i>"I experienced once again the greatest and most lasting of joys: the joy of achievement."</i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH09f2qUOKaPgWOqzs0olVXYBx2yYN3O009nCYbhD4NHxyNh-zdVU4IxdmewAamBYOAAWWzRMx_i72IdOyLSgekrUidpAeXNkA25khpEmh-lKq1qmq-P-o3wWwyxtqRcg9Y3hNYpdyUCg/s1600/jean+batten+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH09f2qUOKaPgWOqzs0olVXYBx2yYN3O009nCYbhD4NHxyNh-zdVU4IxdmewAamBYOAAWWzRMx_i72IdOyLSgekrUidpAeXNkA25khpEmh-lKq1qmq-P-o3wWwyxtqRcg9Y3hNYpdyUCg/s200/jean+batten+001.jpg" width="143" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jean Batten -Always the lady!<br />Even while working on an airplane engine</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fame and fortune can be short lived but the feeling of having done something meaningful is everlasting. Accomplishments, no matter how big or small, count for something wonderful. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perhaps that's what motivates all of us.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-6052370570530274722013-02-04T11:02:00.002-08:002013-02-04T11:02:47.430-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>My Place In Space</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to say the question I am <i>always</i> asked is how I got into flying in the first place. My</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">automatic response had been, "My father flew and so did my brother - being a tomboy it seemed to be the path to follow." But I've come to realize it was more than that. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My father, with the rugged good looks of a modern day George Clooney, embodied the glory of aviation and while he certainly inspired my love of flying, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my own desire to become a pilot came from somewhere deep inside. It was pure and spontaneous.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3R1DLDqlxsy5WshzY_U_lPbfDxsMjzT_38W41kKqLYt03_qfHNRe49SJWOCeVWT1Bu4luXHpp17bzurEzyCtH5DQFpPqToOPHIyTK0OAXKK0o3t6vsS7lPa8X-M2OM_pFTW6WzzpHrv4/s1600/daddy+shooting+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3R1DLDqlxsy5WshzY_U_lPbfDxsMjzT_38W41kKqLYt03_qfHNRe49SJWOCeVWT1Bu4luXHpp17bzurEzyCtH5DQFpPqToOPHIyTK0OAXKK0o3t6vsS7lPa8X-M2OM_pFTW6WzzpHrv4/s200/daddy+shooting+001.jpg" width="113" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Captain "Gus" Tiburzi</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Try to be me for a moment and imagine the beauty of flying at an altitude of 30,000 feet with a stunning 270 degree view of three brewing thunderstorms while you are at the controls of a 400,000 pound beast of a machine, nimbly darting through layers of tumultuous atmosphere. While the instrument panels blink urgently with complex technical readings and meteorological data, you delicately steer the airplane around rumbling patches of flashing gray and purple clouds to the east, in full view of a crystal blue sky to the west all a flame with the orange glow of the setting sun. On all sides, in perfect harmony, the sky explodes with magnificent colors and electricity. The mass of the plane and the force of the wind are both awesome. You and your airplane engage in a daunting dance with the heavens themselves, while back in the cabin, two hundred passengers, to borrow from T.S. Elliot, "talk of Michelangelo."</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Years of training, exhausting concentration, huge responsibility - and <i>what a view!</i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At the end of the day what you remember is the sheer thrill of soaring through the skies and the quieter joy of accomplishment. Your two co-pilots and you have just crossed an ocean together in a tightly orchestrated, silent camaraderie. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Who wouldn't want to be part of that world?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is hard to believe that more than forty years earlier, I admired the same sky from 30,000 feet below while lying on my back in our back yard as a child. My heart followed each plane across the expanse of the sky. Where were they going? How did it work? I was fascinated by the sight and sound of the majestic aircraft as they approached the little landing strip. Ponderously heavy on those tiny tricycle wheels, yet so light and elegant in the sky. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyQmDwBfOCdz0sdA5DR9GnzX24Cb-3Viinqb4mJ13sW7kfzoeZu6yj9y9JEs4rHNJPfe6W51yWCJ3LvSsgYAlDqeZ3JCb2bWA1SYJrQ0-Y6i9mdKyAZhNIBsqX4Av6a4Xw_7_kk0Tf1g/s1600/pby1+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwyQmDwBfOCdz0sdA5DR9GnzX24Cb-3Viinqb4mJ13sW7kfzoeZu6yj9y9JEs4rHNJPfe6W51yWCJ3LvSsgYAlDqeZ3JCb2bWA1SYJrQ0-Y6i9mdKyAZhNIBsqX4Av6a4Xw_7_kk0Tf1g/s320/pby1+001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PBY-5 Catalina </span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my Dad took me up for my first flying lesson he was tanned and unshaven just back from a long three months of flying a tadpole look-a-like twin-engine PBY-5 Catalina airplane for the Air Transport Command in the Amazon Jungle. We were at Danbury Airport, a small two runway airfield nestled between rolling hills in northwestern Connecticut not far from our home. I was only eleven years old when I felt the sky wrap around our small two-seater Cessna. It seemed as though the sky was holding us up, like the night holds the stars. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">From that day flying had become a part of who I was. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-40857508796714346402012-12-26T10:14:00.001-08:002012-12-26T10:14:31.596-08:00EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW I LEARNED FROM FLYING<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">EVERYTHING I NEEDED TO KNOW I LEARNED FROM FLYING</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial;">"<span style="font-size: x-small;"><em>Just watch all you men. I'll show you what a woman can do.</em> <em>I'll go across</em></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em> the country, </em></span></span><em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">I'll race to the Moon. I'll never look back."</span></em><br />
<em><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Helicopter pilot Edna Gardner Whyte - 1931</span></em></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Amelia Earhart</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Photo credit - Women Aloft, Time-Life Books</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">When I reflect on the female aviators who came before me the images aren't always the glamorous ones that most non-aviators conjure up. Take Amelia Earhart - her happily-ever-after character is misleading at best and at worst, actually false. On the surface she was a stunning young woman who married a wealthy man who was able and willing to finance her passion for flight. She flew where she wanted to go, when she wanted to. She did not have to earn a living. Her publicist husband made sure that she had at least as much recognition as she deserved. Like Shirley Temple, she was America's sweetheart. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">This fairy tale life doesn't really represent the history of women in aviation and that unique profile is not the true story - even for Amelia. </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Women in aviation prior to 1973 were denied, rebuffed and for the most part, unrecognized. They were relegated to flying jobs that men considered to be too dangerous or too poorly paid. Many were forced to quit flying and move on to fields where they could at least make a living. Many died</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">while flying those flights men considered too dangerous. Most died when there was no basis to believe that women would ever be treated equally in aviation. </span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The history of female aviators is filled with unrecognized bravery, overwhelming prejudice and heartbreaking tragedy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;">WOW! I've really painted a pretty grim picture but there is a happy outcome - promise. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">The legacy of women flyer's who actually broke into the world of aviation was truly amazing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">They were pioneer airwomen who worked at every type of flying - barnstorming, stunt flying, cross-country</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">racing, setting endurance and altitude records, flight instruction - everything except airline flying. Those big paying jobs were reserved for the men. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Daredevils, risk-takers all, the names of the women who made it are now mostly forgotten. It is a rich inspiring history of spirited individuals full of curiosity, passion. inner strength, the joy of accomplishment and a sense of the sheer beauty of flight. But today, when people think of female pilots, the only names that seem to come to mind are Amelia Earhart and Goldfinger's Pussy Galore.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">For me the pioneering "aviatrix" embodied life itself. Their dreams were played out in real time. Their passions led them to face each new challenge with guts and gusto. They lived the here-and-now, not waiting for someday knowing that illusive day might not ever come. They were exceptional women with full, complex and exceptional lives. They embodied characteristics that I realized I need to juggle a complex, successful and full life as a woman. The resourcefulness and courage they harnessed to master the skies was as much a part of their indomitable character as the flying itself. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">These women didn't just break sound barriers; they blazed a trail for those of us who followed both in aviation and in life. They didn't set out to show any of us that you could "have it all". They simply wanted to do something that had never been done, so they had to buck systems, rules and all sorts of other obstacles to attain it. And by doing so they left a legacy of lessons that can guide and inspire men and women today.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">They made flying a metaphor for life because it was full of risks and the unknown. It was exhilarating and uncharted territory, a place where unexpected beauty was as often part of the scenery as was unexpected danger. Today flying is predictable yet unpredictable, beautiful and - in rare moments - cruel. </span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">I became an airline pilot in March of 1973 and today, I also have two grown children, a husband and a home. Having all this, negotiating in a man's world, fighting to the top, where the few women there were all vying for the same places, took skill, humor, determination, optimism and passion.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">And there you have it - how I learned everything I needed to know about having a full life from flying and in my next few blogs I'd like to share some of the fascinating stories about these pioneer aviators with you. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;">Perhaps you too will learn something new about navigating your own life.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-1170690240626132262012-11-25T11:29:00.001-08:002012-11-25T11:29:33.174-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <span style="background-color: white;"> <span style="color: #0b5394;">CHILDLIKE CURIOSITY THAT LASTS</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My daughter was only five years old when she joined me on one of my scheduled trips.</span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;">The 2 1/2 hour flight to the island of Bermuda, a jeweled oasis in the unforgiving waters of the Atlantic Ocean, was flawless - sun gleaming and smooth air. The passengers sat in armchair comfort, munching and snoozing, having no thoughts of the goings-on beyond the cabin. Britt however, her little button nose pressed up against the porthole window was captivated by her fluffy companions, puffs of clouds floating in harmony around the Boeing 757 like rows of apple trees flush with spring blossoms. Their fanciful forms fascinated her.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;">Fifteen years later, and still fascinated with skyscapes, Britt took this photo while returning</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">home from her college graduation trip to the Far East with friends. She accompanied the photo with this wonderful quote from Alain de Botton's book <em>The Art of Travel.</em></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>"The planes engines show none of the effort required to take us to this place. They hang there in the inconceivable cold, patiently and invisibly powering the craft, their sole request, painted on their inner flanks in red letters, being that we do not walk on them and that we feed them "oil only: D50TFI-S4", a message for a forthcoming set of men in overalls, 4000 miles away and still asleep.</em></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;"><em>There is not much talk about the clouds that are visible up here. No one seems to think it remarkable that somewhere above an ocean we are flying past a vast white candy-floss island that would have made a perfect seat for an angel or even God himself in a painting</em></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;"><em>by Piero della Francesca. In the cabin, no one stands up to announce with requisite emphasis that if we look out the window, we will see that we are flying over a cloud, a matter </em></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;"><em>that would have detained Leonardo and Poussin, Claude and Constable.</em></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;"><em>When scrutinised, our airborne companions outside the window do not look as we might expect them to. In paintings and from the ground, they appear to be horizontal ovoids, but up here they resemble giant obelisks made of piles of unsteady shaving foam. </em></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;"><em>Their kinship with steam becomes clearer: they seem more volatile, perhaps the product of something that has just exploded and is still mutating. It remains perplexing that it should be impossible to sit on one."</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"> <span style="color: #0b5394;">This photo and quote sits beside my computer where I work most days.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;">Not only do I love my gift and the thought that my daughter was thinking of me while crossing the globe at 30,000 feet with her friends but it also inspires me each time I</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Arial;">look at it to keep finding the childlike curiosity in myself - even at my age!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-559191551672796912.post-29411662816609029652012-11-15T14:50:00.000-08:002012-11-15T14:50:18.615-08:00Ready for Takeoff!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hi I'm Bonnie Tiburzi Caputo and I've decided to write a blog . How fun will this be. I am a retired Captain from a major commercial airline and if you are over the age of 50 you have probably flown</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with me. I hope you'll join me while I explore the <em>bloggersphere</em> and will find my blog inspirational, fun and a great ride. So buckle up!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17797235790509407330noreply@blogger.com3