Margie Warrell

Submitted by Karyl Marlow on 1/4/10

My courage path started with a tragedy. My father-in-law, Dick, who was truly my second father crashed flying his restored Globe Swift Airplane and perished; my mother-in-law was critically injured but miraculously survived. Dick and my husband Bruce shared a love of aviation. When Dick passed away, Bruce lost his father, best friend, and his aviation comrade.

After the shock and grief, I came to grips with my reality. My husband also a private pilot still loved to fly. I loved the mode of transportation but I needed to overcome my fear. I figured out that my fear was based on the unknown of piloting a small airplane. I also realized that if my mother-in-law had known how to fly an airplane, she might have been able to save her husband’s life and herself from serious injury. I decided that if I were to continue flying with my husband I needed to know how to fly.

After many months of training, I took my first solo flight at our small airport. On my way over to my flight, I stopped at Dick’s hangar. I wanted Dick to be with me today — it is because of him and Bruce and their love of flight that I am on this particular journey. I opened the large hangar door and played “The Star Spangled Banner” as Dick would have done. As tears welled up in my eyes, I decided I needed to straighten up so I could fly right, or perhaps that is what Dick would have jokingly said.

After a preflight on the airplane, my instructor Adam came out and we proceeded on a normal training flight to make a few takeoffs and landings. After the first landing, Adam signed me off to solo. When he got out, I felt surprisingly calm. I began my checklist, restarting the plane, made my call on the radio and taxied to the run up area. As I stopped, I looked over at Dick’s hangar and a calm came over me. Dick was with me, in spirit, my wingman.

I was feeling confident since my previous two landings were good. The plane lifted off sooner since it was lighter without my instructor. Once around the airport pattern and I made a smooth landing. Yahoo! That was great, what was I worried about? Two more take offs and landings, the third landing was beautiful, something a seasoned pilot would be proud of, I was proud of. After I cleared the runway for the last time and made my radio call, I gave a little yee-ha at the end of it. Immediately someone asked if that was my first solo, which I acknowledged followed by, “Good job, beautiful landing, you sound professional on the radio.” It is amazing my head could still fit under the canopy. I was on the ground, my heart, and ego was on cloud nine, I did it!

I continued my flight training and received my private pilot’s license. I am now my husband’s aviation comrade and my fear has ebbed. I continue to fly and learn something about aviation and myself every time I take off.

I walk a little taller, feel more confident, and smiled a little broader every day. As Dick would have said, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”

Submitted by Karyl Marlow on 1/4/10