DOING TURNS WITH STU

In my over-twenty years of driving airplanes through the skies I held positions as a charter pilot, flight instructor, U.S. Mail pilot and corporate pilot. Of all these, the one that was the most rewarding was flight instructing. Anyone that teaches receives that rush of reward when the student finally "gets it", and understands the concept that is at hand.

The environment for flight instructing is as bad as it gets- small confined space, noisy, your instructor shouting in your ear to overcome that noise, vibration, a bunch of dials and knobs that do God-knows-what, and then being "suspended" in space inside of an object that you don't fully trust nor understand.

In addition to my regular students, I got the "problem students"- the ones that the other instructors couldn't make the light bulb go off for. Folks, it was rewarding. I have six of my former students that are captains on major airlines, and have never had a a student fail after I signed them off for a flight examination.

If you didnít starve to death on the wages an instructor makes, I would do it as an occupation today.

But then, there was Stu.

I inherited Stu as one of those students that no one else could reach. His enthusiasm was without bounds- he loved to fly. Stu flew airplanes in the most uncoordinated manner that you can imagine. The only time the ball was in the center was when the aircraft was on the ground.

With the engine off.

In any event, Stu wanted to get his Private Pilot license and I was his instructor. I tried to give subtle hints that this was not to be his lot in life, but Stu was not to be discouraged.

He was my only failure.

We were in the flight training area, and power-on stalls were the drill of the day. The aircraft was the venerable Cessna 150. Old Stu would just haul the wheel back with full power on and go damn near vertical. I tried to explain that we were trying to simulate a real life situation, and that he would most likely never put an airplane in that configuration. Instead of pulling straight back as he was doing, I told him to keep full power in and slowly bring the nose up...higher, higher, until the shudder of the stall.

Excuse me, I have to back up a second here.

The school that I instructed at was the same school that I received my ratings from. When it came time for me to do my Flight Instructor training I never did spins. The FAA required instructors to stall, spin, do 3 revolutions and come out on a heading. Well, the owner of the school (another story in itself) didn't want his airplanes spun- screws up the gyros he said. So, when I got my Flight Instructors certificate I had never spun an airplane. What about the Instructors flight exam? Well, FAA examiners don't like to do spins either, and they bought the phony endorsement in my log book that stated I had done spins, left and right, to a heading.

Back to Stu.

The nose is coming up better now, not as rushed, slowly, slowly.

Oh, did I mention that Stu flew uncoordinated?

I looked at the ball- it was straining against the edge of the glass. I was just forming the words "Stu, better step on that rudder", when the little 150 snapped over the top and went vertical.

Straight down.

How do you enter a spin? Full power, stall, stomp the rudder. Ah, Stu had done them all.

Stu froze. I froze. Hell, if you have never had the earth fill the windshield of an airplane before, it's an experience. I recovered from my stupor, and in as calm a voice as I could come up with told Stu that I had the aircraft.

Hmmm, let's see now- we're going down so I'll pull back on the wheel, that oughtta do it. Ahhhh no, that's not it...boy, look at the ground spinning around- and coming up kinda fast too.Better pull that power off. Well, power off and we're still going down like a bat. Wait, I read about spins in a book...what was that now?...oh yeah, push forward on the wheel (not exactly a normal reflex when rapidly descending)..and then something about the rudder...ah, opposite rudder. Suddenly we transitioned into a tight spiral and the approach to Earth slowed.

I looked over at Stu and he was catatonic. There was an airport near and I suggested that we land there so that he cold relax and calm down- hell, I was the one that needed to calm down. I tried to not let my shaking hands show as we discussed what had happened, and why.

I never saw Stu again after that day, and I always felt bad about it.

I still do.

I hope that he found someone that was able to make the light bulb go on for him.

© 1999, Hal Stoen

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