The Old Way In Is the New Way In

A very long time ago, when I was 13 years old, still in my home state of Minnesota, I found out about a local FBO that was starting an Explorer Post (a teen version of Scouting that concentrated on specific adventure activities) focusing on aviation. Specifically, this FBO had partnered with the 3M Aviation Club to sponsor the post, and it was focused on the rebuilding of a couple of Piper L-4 Cubs that he had acquired and wanted to rebuild as J-3s. The idea was that teens would join up and be part of the restoration, working a couple of nights each week in the hangar at the local airport, and when the airplanes were finished, the teens would get to fly them for a huge discount, based on how many hours of sweat equity they put in. It worked out to an hour of flight time for the price of gas and oil for every two hours that you worked on the airplane. That was an incredible deal—gas and oil being about $4.50 an hour for those little C-65s.

But what was really special about this program was that it was at the airport. We are fortunate today to have many “teen build” programs that expose kids to aviation in high school classes, and I don’t want to downplay those programs. But they are at school, for an hour (or maybe two) per day—and it is rare that you can finish an airplane before the school year is over and the students move on to something else. The program I was part of met at the FBO’s hangar, in the evening—the hangar door open to the flight line, airplanes taxiing by, airplanes taking off and landing. And on nice evenings, the adults that were mentoring the students would sometimes announce that they “were taking their 182 up for a little flight—who wanted to come along?!” Wow—working on airplanes, being around airplanes, and getting to fly airplanes? I thought I’d died and gone to heaven!

Not only did we get to work on the airplanes and take some ground school sessions—several of us became hangar rats—showing up on our bicycles when we had time to sweep floors, move parts around, fuel airplanes—it was total immersion in the airport community. We didn’t get paid in money—but we sure made it up in experience! It was good for us, good for the FBO—and good for the future of aviation. And before you raise your hand and talk about liability, security, and child labor laws—creative thinking and a will to succeed can solve those problems.

Being at the airport was cool—and of course, this was in the days before fences kept kids out. Today’s environment is not quite as welcoming … but what if it was? What if you created a program like this, got the kids involved, got them access to the airport and flight line so that they could come and go like the adults … what a way to hook the kids into aviation for the long haul! Sure, Young Eagles are great for giving kids a ride—but how many of them show up to the airport that one time, get a ride, and never get the opportunity (or don’t have the drive) to come back? It’s a moment of exposure—not a way to really give them the chance to join up.

I got thinking about this today after receiving a note from an aviation museum director back in Houston, a place where I worked in the space program and flew all the time for over three decades. They are starting up a teen build, and it sounds like it will be at the airport—just the kind of project that hooked me into this adventure over 50 years ago. Imagine the atmosphere—a nice evening, the hangar door open, adults setting up tasks and teaching a group of kids how to rivet, or Cleco a skin in place. The more experienced kids are making fuel lines, or mentoring the newer kids—and all the time, airplanes are going by (on the ground or in the air), and the hustle and bustle of the airport is becoming a part of these kids’ lives. Throw in the smell of new-mown grass (if you’re at a small-town or suburban field) and this is as close to perfect as you can make it for a kid enamored by stories and the traditions of flight. Teach ground school, send books like AC 43.13 home with the kids who want to learn more, and get some instructors involved who can take the kids up for introductory flights. The only thing that makes it all more perfect is an old-fashioned Coke machine with glass bottles …

Who pays the bills for all this? Well, the adults … us in short. We tend to bemoan the death of general aviation, lament the prohibitive cost of entry for the newbie. But how about putting our money where our mouths are? Subsidize a kid’s way into aviation! If you own an airplane, you probably have some discretionary spending money—put it to good use. And if you don’t, then volunteer your time. This is more than a Young Eagles exposure—this is immersion. There are kids who want in—let’s give them the way! Want to make them feel like they are earning it? Have airplane washes (like car washes, but kids get to touch real airplanes!) to help fund special events, like field trips to airplane factories, the tower, or the TRACON—or Center.

How many kids will you hook? Maybe one or two, maybe more—maybe none. It’s like fishing—sometimes they bite, and sometimes they don’t. For me, a kid that had flying machines on the brain since he was three years old (according to my mom), this program was a godsend. How many of the 20 or 30 kids that started with me got into aviation full time? I really don’t know. I know one or two got certificates. Maybe some went on to fly professionally. But even if it was just me—that’s one more person that became an aviation professional than if I hadn’t.

Depending on which statistics you look at, aviation is either dying or thriving. I expect the “thriving” part is the schools turning out students to fill airline seats. But there are lots more ways to make a living—or just have a life—in aviation, and we need to fill those roles as well. I’m not advertising a particular program—I am just throwing out the idea. Maybe it will inspire someone to look at their own local community and decide that hey—they’ve got the bones of an old Champ—and someone has some hangar space … and someone else has some money for dope and fabric … and that gets the ball rolling. You don’t need a national organization—aviation, like politics, works well at the local and grassroots level. Ask yourself—what am I doing to replace myself in aviation? No one is in it forever, and we owe it to the passion of flight to give someone a chance.