The aviation gene is dominant in my family. My dad was an aerospace engineer and mom took flying lessons as a teenager, although she did not achieve certification. She died when I was just out of my teens, before I earned my wings, and often I wonder if she would have enjoyed flying with me.
As a child, I saw a faded black-and-white photograph of my mother in her 1940s teenage chic jeans with cuffs and saddle shoes standing next to a two-toned, high-wing aircraft—an Aeronca Champ. Because the photo is black and white, I don’t know for sure what color the aircraft was, but my research indicates the yellow-and-orange paint scheme was popular in 1946, so I’m going to hazard a guess that is what the airplane my mother flew looked like. She also flew a blue-and-yellow Stearman. Both those airplanes have been on the aviation bucket list since I earned my certificate.
