UNCLE CHARLIE'S LAST FLIGHT

Back when I was flight instructing, one of my students Uncles died. I don't recall either the student's or the Uncle's names, but for the sake of this story I'll refer to them as Stu and Charlie, respectively.

Anyway, when Uncle Charlie passed on, Stu volunteered his services as a pilot to the family. You see, Uncle Charlie was cremated, and his wishes were to be scattered over a lake that he loved to fish on, a local lake by the name of Lake Minnetonka.

Stu was still a student pilot, but I had given him his solo endorsement several weeks prior to this "event". He asked if it would be OK to take old Uncle Charlie's ashes up to do the deed. Now Stu couldn't carry passengers of course, he just had that student ticket, but we both figured that Charlie really didn't qualify as a passenger as such, after all he was pretty well confined to a cardboard box.

So one fine Minnesota summer day Stu departed Flying Cloud airport in a little Cessna 150 to do his duty for the family and old Charlie. His plan was to climb up to around 3,000 feet over the lake, open the window on his side of the aircraft, and pour out Charlie into the slipstream.

For those of you not familiar with the venerable Cessna 150, the windows are hinged at the top and swing outwards and upwards. It was kind of nifty to fly along on a hot summer's day with the window open and your elbow parked on the ledge. Just like cruising along in your car with the window down. Well, a little bit faster perhaps.

There was just one problem with Stu's idea.

Due to the idiosyncrasies of aerodynamics, opening the window on a Cessna 150 created a negative draft inside of the airplane.

Uncle Charlie wasn't going to end up drifting down gently over the waters of Lake Minnetonka.

Stu reached 3,000 feet about the same time as he arrived over the lake. He reached over to the seat on his right and opened the container that held Uncle Charlie's remains. The latch was twisted, and the window opened into the breeze. Stu reached over in front of himself and, holding onto the container, tossed Uncle Charlie overboard.

Uncle Charlie promptly re-boarded the aircraft.

Stu was blinded by the ash, and momentarily lost control of the aircraft. Coughing furiously, he cleared his eyes to find that he, and the interior of the airplane, were now literally wearing Charlie's remains.

Poor Uncle Charlie ended up in a Kirby vacuum cleaner.

The family never found out.

© Hal Stoen
5/12/01

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