My wife still tells the story of Hurrican Hugo, 1989. I flew an F/A18 to Missouri and she and two small children piled into the station wagon and drove through the evacuation traffic all the way to my parents’ house in KY. It takes a special spouse to accept a pilot and our baggage. I suspect she’d have less of a sense of humor today if I told her I had to fly the Cherokee to safety, unless she and the dog were sitting beside me, and the destination has slot machines.