Everything began to fall into place. However, in a stroke of cosmic irony, it was becoming apparent that the decision to pursue the Sport Pilot certificate was navigating me back to my aviation roots — and tender memories. I’d be back in an LSA (a Remos) — I soloed in an Aeronca Champ at age 16 — and one of my choices, First Landings, happened to be based at the airport where I did some of my touch and goes preparing for my first solo. Plus, If I chose Orlando-Apopka, Bob White Field, my dad’s “Grass Strip Forever,” would be in view each flight since it’s located only a couple of miles northwest. Finally, I would be remiss not to mention that if I trained out of Orlando-Apopka, the practice grounds would be a few minutes west, over the shores of Lake Apopka, the very same location where my dad and two other souls onboard crashed in his Waco.