||| |—|—| | | | It was hot in the shop. It was after six on a summer Friday night and we’d driven to Lakeland, Florida, to talk to Mike about a new interior for the Cheyenne. Our interior was original and we liked the seats, but the carpet and drapes were well past their life expectancy. When the airplane was built, Jimmy Carter was president. And, to tell the truth, the seats were pretty rough once you pictured them sitting in a fine vessel of new carpet and headliner. So we were thinking of doing the seats, and I was just beginning to suspect that this might lead to new cabinetry when the phone rang.
My wife and I had liked Mike immediately. He’d been recommended by our mechanic, Turley, and he had a nice, patient way with us. He didn’t press about the seats, he just sort of let us come to our own conclusion about the need to bite the bullet and buy some leather. Mike’s in his mid forties, compact and soft spoken. He looks you in the eye.
