“Do You Want to Fly?”

Off you can go into the wild blue yonder.

By E. M. Treston

“Do you want to fly?” asked the voice on the other line.

“Do I wanna what?” I asked, perplexed.

“Fly,” stated the voice.

“Ya mean like an airplane?” Suddenly I remembered that I had e-mailed a company I found on the Internet about flying for people with disabilities.

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate, especially since my significant other had been touting his prowess on Real Flight Simulator for months and my attempts at the game landed my 747 in Jamaica Bay off Long Island, New York, at every take-off.

I was going to do the real thing!

My SCI/D philosophy is one must try something new every year. Flying fit the bill. Hell, flying was beyond anything I even imagined!

Down But Not Grounded

Jim Kaler is a pilot. He’s also a T-11/12 paraplegic due to a surfing accident in Maui.

Prior to joining our exclusive club of people with SCI/D, Jim flew private jets-Gulfstream IV and a Falcon 50-all over the world for wealthy business tycoons.

“During rehabilitation a physical therapist told me that I wouldn’t be able to fly anymore,” Jim says. ” I knew that he was wrong.”

Jim decided that he wasn’t going to let his inability to move on two legs stop him from his career as a pilot. He started a nonprofit organization aptly named Able to Aviation. It is the first nonprofit organization to give the dream of flying, at no cost, to people with physical disabilities. They have certified and trained volunteers who teach adaptive flying techniques, flying skills, and aviation procedures to many with the will and initiative to fly a plane. Able to Aviation exists through Jim’s dedication, fundraising and donations.

I arrived at the airfield on a bright sunny day. The Aerodrome in Bayport, Long Island, New York is home to a host of historic aircraft. World War II bi-planes and various colored Cessnas dot the acreage with bright colors against fields of brown and patches of green. Ghosts of old Long Island seem to haunt the airfield and surrounding buildings. An old butcher shop from 1899 houses Able to Aviation itself, modified with a newly-fitted ramp and accessible bathroom.

My stomach was a bit tense as I heard the planes take off and I began to have some doubts. Until then, my only experience of flying was sitting in coach. As many of you know, commercial flying isn’t fun. At times you can feel like a piece of luggage strapped to an aisle seat. I became a bit apprehensive wondering how they would manage to get my 36-inch inseam into a small plane without me becoming Gumby.

At the shop, we met Jim and one of his fellow pilots. Out of the corner of my eye a bright yellow Cessna 177 Cardinal aircraft banked toward terra firma. Jim called out, “There she is!” My adrenaline gave my body a shot as the realization that I would soon be in that aircraft became reality.

Jim and his team have made the act of getting people on the aircraft a science. He has a prototype of a ramp with a level surface that meets the seat level for an easier transfer. I was sitting in the right side of the plane in less than 60 seconds. The Cessna is equipped with hand controls for those who don’t have use of their legs. I was seat belted in, given the pair of head phones to listen to the local air traffic, and was ready to fly.

I Was Rich’s Co-Pilot

My pilot’s name was Rich. He was actually trained by Jim before his accident and fi nds that teaching other people this unique experience to be a calling. We ran through a list, checking gauges and checking levels to ensure a safe flight. I kept one eye on my abandoned wheelchair as the engine of the plane vibrated gently beneath me. The yoke swiveled slightly in front of me, and we were off down the airfield picking up speed and then leaving the ground. Out of the corner of my eye I watched my QuickieTi become a faint speck and smiled a secret smile of victory.

We traveled along the south shore of Long Island. Expensive homes and lighthouses trimmed the shore. It was an amazing experience. Rich said, “Take the yoke.”

“What?” I stuttered.

I put my hands on the yoke and Rich told me to bank to the right. Unfortunately for Rich I have zero sense of direction. I need a building, a landmark to turn at, not a cloud. Rich pointed out the compass which highlighted our direction back to the Aerodrome. I smiled.

We landed softly, the smile still on my face.

If you want a sense of freedom, a unique experience or to learn how to fly give Jim a call at 631-374-3680 or check out his Web site: www.able-to-aviation.org.

E.M. Treston is a frequent contributor to Action.