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 (NY25) after 45 years, finding it significantly changed and initially struggling to reconcile current realities with his past memories.
- He experiences a profound connection to his past upon unexpectedly discovering N1374Q, a specific 1971 Cessna 150 he had soloed in, still present at the airport.
- This discovery acts as a "Rosetta stone," triggering a flood of vivid recollections about his early flying experiences, lessons learned, and interactions at the FBO.
- Reflecting on his journey from a young lineman to an airline pilot, the author realizes he has come "full circle" and expresses regret for not fully treasuring those foundational moments.
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