I coasted the rental car into the parking lot of what remained of Camillus Airport (NY25) in New York and attempted to transport myself back in time. The view before me was disorienting. Surrounding structures and driveways had been added. The FBO office and hangar locations appeared to have been relocated. I knew that the relocation resided only in a portion of my brain that held memories from 45 years prior. It was difficult to connect the memories of the past with the realities of the present. Perhaps it was the visceral absence of my bicycle tires rumbling across the large-stoned gravel of theparking lot—which was now worn and cracked asphalt—that was preventing my brain from reminiscing. Surely, I could coax a few synapses into recall mode. This place was holy ground, after all. It was not only the place where I had soloed but also where my hardearned $1.85-an-hour paycheck as a lineman was converted into flying lessons. Still, I was getting nothing.
A Visit to My First Airport
Key Takeaways:
- The author revisits Camillus Airport, where he soloed and worked 45 years ago, initially finding it difficult to reconcile the present landscape with his cherished memories.
- He unexpectedly discovers the exact Cessna 150 (N1374Q) he once soloed, which acts as a "Rosetta stone" to unlock a vivid flood of recollections from his early aviation days.
- This encounter brings a "full circle" realization of his journey from an aspiring student pilot to an airline captain, as he relives moments of his first solo, lessons, and working as a lineman.
- The experience prompts him to reflect on the importance of treasuring life's present moments and early experiences, rather than solely viewing them as stepping stones to future goals.
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