A big chunk of my first 6,000 hours was spent instructing … possibly 5,000 hours too many. Yeah, it takes patience, but it’s fun and spiced with occasional adrenaline moments, like when somebody is trying to kill you. It’s also a little like logging one hour 6,000 times. When I found myself nodding off on final approach with pre-solo students (yes, really) I knew it was time to quit. I’m not impressed when I hear guys brag about never having instructed, as if they were clever enough to get real flying jobs without enduring the apprenticeship and drudgery of teaching. Congratulations, guys, but I think flight instructing is the best, if not the only, way to truly learn the art of flying an airplane.
I got the rating just before graduating from college with a degree in English lit. Few real colleges gave credit for flight training … and I’d better stop right there. After one job interview as an advertising copywriter, I was close to tears (everything and everybody was, like, gray), so I got a job teaching at Cincinnati Aircraft at Lunken Airport. Al Passell, the chief instructor, believed you could teach nearly anybody to fly and that the “what if the student freezes on the controls” scenario was hogwash. Intimidation, sarcasm or intentionally scaring a student is silly and unprofessional, and if that were your style you’d be better off writing advertising copy in a gray office where you can’t hurt anybody.
