My best is still an angel-flight gone wrong.. I had an amusing write-up on BT a few years ago, wish I had saved it.
Oh, wait, it's still there thanks to over-zealous quotings by Dino
(holy cow, that was 5 years ago. Getting old sucks!)
Mike Brannigan wrote:
warning: crude chuckle and facepalm ahead.
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So, Saturday we took on a last-minute angel flight for a fellow who needed to travel from San Diego to Burbank, and then back again. Since weather and "life" has been keeping us out of the angel flight loop for most of this year, my copilot Joanne and I decided to grab the flight. It was to arrive in Burbank no later than 9am, meaning we needed to leave our home field of Hawthorne at 6:45am. The return was at 2pm from Burbank, so we had 5 hours to kill, and used the time to visit the cuban bakery, Porto's (the only good thing in the valley
All 4 legs were to be in the soup, so it was a tranquil flight. Down and back for the first leg was no trouble, and our companion was a nice and chatty kid who had survived a particular heart procedure, and was interviewing to be a camp counselor for similarly afflicted people. We also noted that our friend was "developmentally delayed", or whatever the current euphemism is. This was my first up-close experience with someone so afflicted, and I enjoyed the trip, as the guy had very funny jokes, and was always laughing for some reason. It warmed my heart. He even asked me what happens when my airspeed gets to 240. I said the wings fall off. He laughed and said "uh oh, okay, let's not do that". I concurred.
It was on the return flight from Burbank back to San Diego that we got routed inland east, then south. More soup, no problems, and our friend was quiet in the back -- I assumed he was tired from his interview and travels. I flew the altitudes and vectors, Joanne busied herself about her iPod, and life was good.
I don't know what compelled me to peek in the back on our friend after about 20 minutes.
Here is my kneeboard flight log, and a quick pen-based chat with Joanne about events I discovered to be unfolding in the rear seats.
:shock: :doh: :doh: :doh: :doh:
So a few peeks to the rear from both of us confirmed that, yes, we were helping one of Jerry's kids achieve the solo mile high club. There wasn't anything in the angel flight orientation to cover THIS. We just giggled to ourselves and flew on.
5 minutes later, he was asleep, shirt half-unbuttoned, slumped over the seat. Snoring.
On the ground at montgomery, he popped out of the plane and trundled into Gibbs FBO, where he changed into a spare set of clothes, which he had thoughtfully already packed in his backpack! Apparently this is something he was prepared for.
Luckily, and to the delight of my line clean-up crew, he, er, "packed out" his business in its entirety, and my interior remains unblemished. I'd even fly with him again, but I'd probably grab one of our cessnas to do it in. I can't help but feel a little violated.
I'm gonna stick with cancer patients from now on.
Damn. :doh: