by
Darryl Phillips
The Lear 25 appeared motionless in the moonlight, suspended by a slender monofilament from the bedroom ceiling. As the young man watched, it came to life. He was flying left seat, savoring the still air and marveling as the mountains bathed in a soft blue glow passed beneath his wing. As he flew, his thoughts were of the air flowing almost effortlessly past the craft. How the gear doors sealed to prevent drag, how the engine nacelles were sculpted to best aerodynamic advantage. He had enjoyed examining each part of the model during assembly, observing how the designer had melded the individual mechanisms into a work of beauty. As he cruised at his favorite flight level, he considered the effect of attack angle, of temperature, of air density up this high. And, yes, he thought of bridges that really needed to be flown under!
Next to the Lear was a Citation, and a Gulfstream, and a Westwind. A Beech Starship and a beautiful Piaggio shared airspace above his desk. His King Air collection was complete, each model authentically painted to represent an actual aircraft which might be plying the skies tonight.
He hadn't always flown this high. Like many of us, his first plane was a Cub which would forever hold a special place in his heart. As he grew, he built many Cessna and Piper singles, each in turn had been his choice as the world's best aircraft. Then came the cropduster period, when he was sure his destiny must lie flying a Pawnee or an Ag Truck or maybe a Turbo Thrush. Forever zooming within inches of the ground then pulling - pulling - PULLING to barely miss the treeline and turning hard to do it all again. Oh, those were the days.
Around the bedroom was the history of aviation. His first planes, bearing young fingerprints forever preserved in model cement. And his latest planes, representing almost a century of advances in our understanding of materials and aerodynamics. Aircraft designed to benefit mankind.
As he slipped into slumber, his inner mind was already working on a fantastic new design. It'll be a decade, maybe two, before he is out of grad school and ready to produce his latest version of the world's best aircraft. But the wait will be worth it!
At Oshkosh last year Patsy and I took the time to count the scale model kits offered for sale by Colonel Poberezny's EAA. This doesn't include toys and such, nor does it include models sold by other vendors, just the kits you can buy at the EAA Wearhouse. We found a total of 217 different models. But we found no C-182, no Mooney, no Staggerwing or Baron, no Gulfstream or Westwind or Piaggio or Starship or Lear. It was the Experimental Aircraft Association, but there were no scale models of experimental aircraft. There were no models designed to dust our crops, or serve as aerial ambulances, or carry the nightly load of checks to the clearing house. No models for future charter pilots to pin their dreams on. Of the 217 examples we offer our children, only 15 were civil aircraft, the other 202 were military.
And what of the young man flying his Lear through the moonlight? He never existed. Because his models never existed, his dreams didn't either. But as I drift to sleep, I think of him.