My first flight was in a crop duster when I was a little kid in the 40s. I can still remember that the door was hooked on with bailing wire, but I loved every second of that flight. I couldn't have been much more than six, maybe seven, at the time. In the early 50s I can remember going to the Quad City Airport (MLI) to pick up my uncle who flew in on a really big plane--probably a DC-3.
I was excited beyond belief when I had the opportunity to fly from Chicago to Palm Beach when I was, maybe 10. I thought I was the cat's meow. I can still remember the red coat I wore on that flight.
My love affair with flying has spanned many decades and shows no signs of slowing down.
We own a company that designs and produces trade show exhibits and graphics, so our work entails a decent amount of flying, much of which we have passed on to the younger generation, but we still get in our share.
I guess now we pick and choose and end up with more of the fun stuff, and less of the grunt flying work. Which is as it should be.
I am hoping to be going strong 30 years from now. ^