A man I had met at the flight school the previous Saturday was missing. He flew a Cessna 170. He was one of those lucky folks who lived at an airpark, but on Saturdays he stopped in at the municipal field for the coffee and company.
On February 29 around 3:45 p.m., the aircraft owner and a friend launched from the airpark with the intent of heading to a nontowered airport about an hour away. The route entailed a flight over the Puget Sound. They did not make it. I am not mentioning his name because his family doesn’t need to relive that experience, but suffice to say they reported him missing, instigating a search.
