Reach of Those Who Teach

The various “type groups” that support specific aircraft breeds perform a valuable role by providing tailored training and resources for owners and operators that are usually not available from a local CFI. 

As I watched the last embers fading from the warm fire beside my chair, contemplating trundling off to bed, my cell phone rang.

“Hi, Ken. It’s Rob. We flew together last Saturday in my Bonanza. I’m sorry to call you so late, but I needed to let you know what happened earlier today.”

Now fully awake and wondering what was up, I assured Rob that there was no problem with the timing of the call. His voice conveyed a definite sense of stress and anxiety, so I wondered what could have caused him to contact me. He was clearly emotional and upset about something.

One aspect of the Beechcraft training syllabus includes the simulation of various emergencies along with an opportunity to practice the proper response under controlled conditions. This always includes several varieties of engine failure scenarios from both high and low altitudes. Rob and I had faithfully practiced all of these until he could reliably perform the maneuver successfully.

The Bonanza, being aerodynamically quite “clean,” loses altitude rapidly when power is lost, so learning the proper sight picture and managing the glide path and energy correctly takes proper training and repetition. It is not something that most pilots practice regularly, nor should they without an experienced instructor on board.

Rob completed this part of the training successfully, and we moved on to the other tasks on our list. By the end of the afternoon, Rob had finished everything on the list. I was very happy with his performance, so I endorsed his logbook for the Flight Review and the Instrument Proficiency Check. Given how well he had done, I was curious about the reason for his call.

More recently, I spent a few hours visiting with a young pilot who was working on his flight instructor certificate and had asked for some advice. Dominic was not sure he wanted to follow the well-worn track to an airline job and wondered if being a CFI offered an alternative.

“I know the money’s better working for an airline, but I believe I would be happier teaching people to fly,” Dominic said.

He wondered about the challenges and rewards of pursuing a career in aviation education, so he came looking for some perspective. We talked about the teachers he had interacted with during his educational journey, discussing the attributes exhibited by those who had crossed his path. Terms like “caring,” “invested,” “knowledgeable,” and “positive” were written on the whiteboard as we talked.

I shared insights learned over the many years and thousands of students who have shared a classroom and cockpit with me. I confirmed Dominic’s speculation that it was difficult to earn a reasonable income, particularly early on when lack of experience, combined with a pool full of wannabe airline pilots chasing the dream by serving their apprenticeships as newly minted CFIs, made finding a job difficult in many instances.

However, I also explained that once dues had been paid through effort, perseverance, and humility, he would find that students would begin to seek him out as his skills and abilities became known.

“The fact is, good instructors are in short supply, and the great ones are in demand,” I said. “Helping people achieve a lifelong dream of learning to fly is hugely rewarding despite the modest financial benefits. You are giving them the tools needed to do something so few ever get to experience.

“If you stay with it, years from now, you will hear from some of your former students who will remember your time together very fondly. Now you may not always remember them, but they will certainly recall the time you spent with them. Many will go on to have wonderful aviation careers that began with the basic skills you taught them.

“But I hope you appreciate that your role comes with an immense responsibility to get it right because people’s lives are at stake.”

Dominic thought about this for a moment and said: “Teachers and coaches often mention that they ‘change lives,’ and we have all seen examples where that’s true. So that must be part of the equation.”

I agreed: “Of course, but there is another, larger, far more important element that lies at the heart of this. Otherwise, spending endless hours grinding around the pattern on a hot Texas afternoon in a cramped cockpit with a sweaty student struggling to learn to land will quickly demoralize most instructors.”

As we continued our conversation, my mind flashed back to Rob’s phone call.

“I just wanted to call to thank you for the training last weekend,” he said. “As it turns out, you probably saved my life.”

At this point, Rob choked up a bit and paused to collect himself before continuing.

“On the way back home in my Bonanza, I was in cruise at 9,500 feet when I noticed a slight ‘miss’ in the big Continental [engine]. I quickly scanned the engine instruments and noticed a fluctuation in the oil pressure reading. Within a minute, the roughness increased dramatically, oil sprayed onto the windshield, and the engine lost almost all power. I hit the ‘NEAREST’ button on my GPS, found a nearby airport, declared an emergency, spiraled down over the runway, and landed without power. It wasn’t my best landing, but I was down and safe.”

Once again, he had to stop for a moment before continuing: “I just had to let you know that had we not practiced the ‘engine-out’ procedures, I’m pretty sure the ending would have been far worse.”

We talked about his experience for a while longer before hanging up. Rob admitted to being scared, but somehow he was able to focus on what needed to be done during the forced landing. He said after the dust settled, however, he was an emotional wreck.

“I really lost it when I got home to my family,” he said. “I just needed to share with someone who could understand.”

As I reflected on Rob’s story, I felt immense joy and relief that he had done so well, and I appreciated his sharing how much he valued the training I had offered.

So, it was Rob’s experience that was on my mind as I continued visiting with Dominic about the challenges and rewards of being an aviation educator.

“Once in a great while, if you do this long enough, some long-forgotten student will call to share a story in which they heard the echo of your voice coaching them through their fear and the danger of some awful aviation event to a safe homecoming,” I said. “Your effort, your diligence, and your teaching will make a difference in their survival. And that, for me, more than anything else, is why I continue to teach.” 

Many of my high-time instructor buddies have similar stories to share. Open any of their logbooks and similar memories reside.

I don’t know what Dominic will decide to do with his aviation career, but I hope that our conversation will help him in some small way with his decision. I am looking forward to watching how it unfolds.

And when, sometime in the future, my last endorsement is given and the last line is entered in someone’s logbook, it will be the memories of all those times where proper and timely training truly mattered that will be the true reward.