An Uncle's Gift Acknowledged by Mike Larson

I remember that cool fall day back in 1952 in Wichita, Kansas like it was yesterday. I was 6 years old and I had just been told I was going for my first ride in an airplane. I had decided sometime before then that I was going to be a pilot when I grew up, but the reality of actually flying added meaning to that decision and I still harbor that excitement in my life today, 52 years later. All of my family were pilots so it wasn't unusual for a boy my age to follow in their footsteps. Uncle Mac was going to fly the airplane. He had the honor of being the first corporate pilot for the Coleman Company. His youngest son, Bill, was my age and he would be on the flight, we are still more like brothers even today. Bill, his older brother Mike, and I were the total membership of the Pleasant Valley Model Airplane Club back in those days.     After breakfast Dad and I headed to the Wichita Municipal Airport located next to the Cessna factory and McConnell Air Force Base southeast of town. We walked up to that beautiful silver and blue airplane and I remember the excitement mixed with wonder of what we were going to do. Yet, the closer we got to the airplane, the more I began to question the wisdom of riding in this particular machine. Mac opened the door and I could see inside the spacious cabin. I distinctly remember saying to myself, "There is no way Uncle Mac is going to be able to see where we are going in this thing." and I opted to make a quick retreat back to the safety of the car. Fortunately, Dad had a firm grip on my hand and I found myself sitting in the wide back seat of that new Cessna 190 still wondering how Mac could see anything. I have only a few brief memories of the flight itself but that first impression has never left me. I've always been grateful to my uncle for that and other experiences he shared with his boys and I. It's one of those things you know that grownups are supposed to do and you always wonder if you could repay their kindness in some way besides growing up and staying out of jail. Mac flew Coleman executives throughout the United States in that airplane for several years.     Sometime ago my wife Charmain and I bought N8266R, a 1949 Cessna 195A from John Collet in Goodland, Kansas. We waited a couple of months after purchasing this fine machine so John could finish rebuilding her. During the agonizing wait I had the chance to visit my 76 year old Uncle Mac in Atlanta and of course I proudly told him of our new purchase. Mac laughed and said "That is great Mike, let me know when you get her and I'll check you out." This coming from a man who hadn't flown in 20 years. Nevertheless, I vowed right then and there that I would fly that plane to Atlanta and get my check out.     After finally picking up the 195 in April, 1999 and flying back to Denver my first thoughts on that flight were, "What the heck am I doing in this thing!" I had been flying only airliners for the last 22 years and I wasn't used to all of the noises and vibration associated with running around in an old Cessna, I wasn't sure I was going to like it. At that time 66R was a stranger to me and I really didn't trust her (or me for that matter). Having to skirt a few thunderstorms on a rough afternoon didn't help any! Approaching the airport I was glad the flight was over and I could think about whether I was really going to enjoy this new endeavor. I taxied up to the FBO and shut the Jocobs down and crawled carefully out of the left seat and onto the ground and began to stretch. The next sound I heard was Charmian saying, "Come on, I want to go for a ride." I noticed a crowd beginning to gather around old 66R. Everyone was showing the proper respect for that beautiful 195 and I started to remember how proud I had been when we first bought her and how I was once again a 195 driver. My apprehensions began to drain away when I started answering the inevitable questions the airport crowd comes up with and before I knew it, we were taxiing out for another flight. By then the sky was clear, the air smooth, and the pure enjoyment of flying returned. There were no more doubts from then on about our decision.     Throughout the summer we flew around Denver and used 66R as a lunch taxi for about 50 hours. I began to start to trust her and the old skills of flying a 195 were slowly starting to return. I still don't fly at night or on instruments but that's only because I don't have to. I am always amazed at the shape this airplane is in and how lovingly she was rebuilt in Goodland. I truly feel fortunate to be the caretaker of this 195 and the job is much easier because of the quality of care John Collet and his people took with her before I found her.

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