The 1st 500

I'll always remember January 17, 1994.  From a deep slumber I was awakened by something that sounded like a freight train that was about to run through my bedroom.  It's funny how all of your senses can come alive in a split second, even when you're half asleep.  But before I could figure out what was making that sound -- BOOM, it hit.

It was such a violent jolt that I was literally thrown from my bed and landed face down on the floor.  I lunged for the doorway and clung on for dear life.  My door started to slam against me so I threw my foot up to push it open and stop it from hitting me; my back now firmly wedged against the door frame.  Behind the door were a couple of shelves that contained some model airplanes and one model aircraft carrier.  My grandfather used to build models and since we both shared a passion for aviation I just remember how sad I felt to hear them all come crashing down.  There was nothing I could do to stop them.  I couldn't even stand.  I still didn't fully grasp what was going on, I just thought -- not my airplanes.

As I turned my head away from that crashing sound, I heard the sound of glass breaking.  The picture frames that my parents had on the walls.  All of the dishes, the glasses that were in the kitchen, they all came crashing down.  As the house finally stopped shaking and the deafening roar of seismic waves and things breaking ceased, I heard a voice from above call down to me.  No, it wasn't God.  It was my parents.  My mom yelled down from their upstairs bedroom, "are you okay down there?"  I barely got out a short response, "yeah, I'm good. You?"  Then the shaking started again and she yelled, "hang on, here comes more!"

When things finally calmed down, I was able to find some shoes to put on.  I knew I'd need them with all that broken ceramic and glass.  I still couldn't look behind my door.  My parents and I got out of the house and stepped into the front yard.  The ground shook some more.  It would continue to shake for days.  But what really struck us at that moment was seeing the horizon to the west in this weird orange color.  We could hear explosions.  Later we'd find out that it was a major gas line that had erupted and was set ablaze.  My mom remarked, "it's like we're in a war zone."

Cal State Northridge

We lived about three miles from the epicenter of the Northridge earthquake.  Fortunately, our house remained stable so we never had to move out but it did need some repairs.  Lots of things needed replacing.  To this day my parents only use paper plates.  They say, what does it matter, as soon as we buy new dishes they're just going to break again.  Some things you just can't replace, like model airplanes.  I was able to put a couple back together but most of them were damaged beyond repair.  I loved that aircraft carrier.

Near the interchange I'd take to SMO

So what does this story have to do with an aviation blog?  I was in the middle of training for my instrument rating.  I had just completed my private pilot's license at the end of December.  I flew everyday of the week and took weekends to study.  I prided myself on getting things done in minimum hours.  I thought that made me a better pilot but in hindsight I really don't know why I was so rushed.  The earthquake and all of its damage to infrastructure would set back my training by a few weeks.  I ended up getting my instrument in late March.  It felt like it took forever.

Reading about the new joint strike fighter with grandpa

Just about a month after getting my instrument, I took up my first passenger -- my grandpa.  When he was a kid he used to ride his bike to the airports in the Valley to watch airplanes.  A local pilot noticed him coming to the airport and offered to teach him to fly but since he was underage they required his parent's signature.  His mom was scared of flying and refused to sign the paperwork.  A couple of years later he was drafted into the U.S. Army during WWII.  Life happened and he never got a chance to get his license. It was such an honor for me to be able to take him up.  I even let him grab the yolk and take control for a few minutes.

Pic taken Dec 1994 at SMO

At that time I would never have guessed that my life would take so many twists and turns.  For several years I barely flew.  Maybe once or twice a year, if I was lucky.  I made sure to always do my biennial flight review so I could at least say that I had a current BFR even if I wasn't active.  It wasn't until the summer of 2001 that I finally figured out how to fly nearly once a month.  I had SMO-AVX-SMO all over my logbook.
To escape the hustle and bustle of the city, I'd take a Cessna 172 out of Santa Monica airport where I learned to fly and I would head over to Catalina Island.  They have a great airport cafe there and I'd get a buffalo burger.  Just sitting in their outside seating area you could overlook the water and make out Long Beach in the distance.  It was gorgeous and serene.

Back then I was working retail, a Group Sales Manager for Macy's Beverly Center.  I managed a couple of departments that included shirts and ties.  In June 2001, I was awarded the Tie Department Manager of the Year by the Neckwear Association of America.  Truth be told, I had never heard of that organization but hey, if you want to give me an award and fly me to New York for the ceremony then I'm your biggest fan!

During the trip I got to take the Circle Line cruise around Manhattan.  I have pictures of the old skyline in the background and one with a close up shot of me and the twin towers right over my shoulder.  It was an impressive sight.  Back to reality and California I went.  Less than three months later I'd see those same towers come crashing down. I had that same feeling of helplessness that I had during the earthquake.  I wanted to do something but wasn't able.  That's when I started thinking about my next move.

Job perk: touring Air Force One

I knew all along that I wanted to be in aviation.  I just didn't know how to get there.  About three months later I would leave my hometown of Los Angeles and head east and start pursuing my career in aviation and government.  From Embry-Riddle in Florida to Burbank to Kansas to the mid-Atlantic (for a short time) and then back to Kansas.  All along I've been chasing my dream.  In real life you don't have a magenta line to follow, there is no "Direct To" button.  And without an industry mentor, you forge your own path -- if you really want it.

Even though most people don't know what a state director of aviation does, I know that I'm blessed to be where I am.  I'm living the dream, doing the things I knew that I've always wanted to do.  I'm also an active pilot with a commercial license that's just about to cross the 500 hour threshold.  It may have taken me a while to get here, but I wouldn't change a thing.  As John Wooden said, "success is a journey, not a destination."  These are just my first 500 hours of flight, spread over 21 years.  Even if it takes another 21 to get to 1,000, my journey continues.  This is what I do.  This is who I am.