David_Jackson

My first Cub ride was in the summer of 1950. I was 3 years old, 3 feet tall, and couldn’t see a dadgummed thing except the back of the front seat, and the light at the end of the tunnel. I knew 73 years ago that I was going to be a pilot.
I got my Army discharge in '69, met the girl of my dreams in '70, and my ticket in '71.
Those were the days, my friends, those were the days.
Fortunately, my service dog Gabby knows how to push right -or- left front foot, which makes it easier crabbing or slipping landings near Chicago (and all it takes is a pocket full of MilkBone treats!)