Hereâs my take, shaped by sixty years in aviation, some hard-earned perspective, and a whole lot of gratitude for the folks who opened the gate for me.
I served in the military, came home, and used the GI Bill to earn my ratings and get a fresh start. That bill wasnât charity, it was earned, and it gave me a real shot at chasing a dream Iâd carried since I was a kidâbecoming a pilot.
And I did. I washed airplanes, made good friends, and learned to love everything about flying. I taught, flew, raised a family, and passed that dream on to others. I didnât do it alone. There were mentors, there was a community, and there was space to learn, to fail, and to keep going. That was 60 years ago.
Today itâs a different world. The cost of flight training is through the roof, the path feels narrow and rigid, and a lot of young people donât have anyone in their corner. Not many are pointing them toward scholarships or saying, âYou can do this, and weâll help.â That kind of encouragement really matters.
Thatâs why I helped start and supported a youth aviation education program, a nonprofit that offered free flight lessons, ground school, medicals, and mentorship. No cost, no strings. Just a way to give others the kind of chance I had.
So when I hear people say, âThese kids donât want it enough,â I shake my head. Some of them want it badly, they just donât know where to start. The gates are locked, the costs are crushing, and it can all feel out of reach.
But hereâs the good news. The spark is still out there. You can see it in Young Eagles flights, in wide-eyed first-timers, and in CFIs and volunteers who care enough to lift someone up. What we need now is more of that. More outreach, more mentors, more folks willing to say, âYeah, come on in, weâll show you the way.â
Aviation still has a bright future, but it needs more than passion. It needs access, it needs support, and it needs people who are willing to walk alongside the next generation. The dream is still alive. We just need to make sure the airport stays open.