OK, since this seems to be something more than simply doubting newcomers- there is a rabid element here that is the primary reason I left Quora even though I was one of the most popular writers. I am going to explain myself, and if this isn't enough for you, I will move on, probably to something imminently more healthy than the internet,anyway. I can see why new blood is rare here.
I was born in the very ate 50's, on our family ranch near Lajitas, Texas. I grew up, as I said, in airplanes. I soloed at 9, although I usually say 12 because people simply do not believe me when I say 9. Why 12 is more believable I don't know, but it cuts down on the BS I have to listen to.
I flew as a CFI, night charter, weather modification, you name it, while attending UT for my degree in Evolutionary Biology/herpetology. I eventually earned my Masters from Sul Ross.
One of my brothers was a zoomie, I wasn't interested. I could have easily gone the academy route, but I DESPISE military discipline. The nicest thing a commanding officer ever said about me outside of the cockpit was that I was "irreverent".
When I was accepted to OTS- which I attended at the Lackland annex- I already had about 5000 flight hours, 3000 of those as a CFI, 5 type ratings in biz jets and a DC-3 type.
I attended ENJJPT at Sheppard AFP, class 83-**. I was faip'ed, spent 36 mos as an IP after training (PIT) and eventually was given my #1 dreamsheet slot, F-15C, at Nellis, with the 65th AGRS.
I am not going in to too much detail, but I was also rated in the F-5E Tiger II, the last one we operated at that time, for DACT. A nearby T&E squadron which I will not name owned an F-5F, and as Capt Maguire and I were the senior F-5 pilots at the time, they asked up to fly a test card- it had nothing to do with the aircraft, it was an equipment test, something which had been added to the aircraft for test purposes.
We suffered a catastrophic engine failure during a zoom climb and the aircraft essentially exploded. Capt Maguire's position commanded the ejection, so essentially he saved my life. He did not survive.
I spent 16 months in the BAMC burn ward, an came home with two trophies. A dead friend. And a right leg and side that look like this: (This is a recent picture, of the cleanest part of my injury- the hip is the worst. I had 33 skin grafts to repair the damage.)
Welcome to my hell.
I fought my way back into the cockpit after amazingly painful surgeries and the pain of losing my friend.
If this isn't enough, I am finished here, so you have the power to send me packing, easily. Let me know.