Let me tell you about Michael…at least, I’ll try… but he nearly defies description. Michael was Huck Finn, Mr. Wizard, an Irishman tattooed with a four-leaf clover, and Peter Pan to my Wendy. Understand that most of these adventures and shenanigans took place in simpler times when general aviation was free of ADS-B, camera surveillance, complex airspace restrictions, and overzealous FAA inspectors. I’m not sure if GA is really safer these days, but it sure isn’t as much fun.
When I was learning to fly during winter 1961-62, there were several ratty-looking AT-6s and Beech 18s tied down in the grass outside the flying school shack. A guy named Michael who owned one of the AT-6s was, I thought, an interesting-looking guy. I’d see him at Mass at Christ the King Church—usually standing against a side wall because he’d arrived late (in those days, Catholic Sunday Masses were always crowded).
