That Monday Donna showed up at the café, "My dad stopped paying for school I'm broke can I work here?" I turned towards Clint. Clint responded,"I'm calling Brooke to get her discipled and growing." I looked at Donna and saw the expectation in her eyes and I responded, "Sure." Clint looked at me and said, "Baylor has got a new seminary I'm going over to get in I resign and by the way like I said trust brother trust God is in total control." Clint packed his gear up and sped away after he got Donna signed up for some good discipleship from a wise older woman. We hugged two brothers united by the blood of Christ. I felt some of the warmth and waved as he sped away into his future.

Donna's entry into the café was preverbal joker tossed into the deck. Her blond hair well rounded face and hot body well made her incredibly attractive. Yet she was un-datable. She nowhere met the criteria I was supposed to be holding on. I knew my time in hills was supposed to celibate no wife hunting but she was adorable. Celibacy stinks but sometimes when one is relearning the basics one does not need the opposite sex to complicate the matter and more often then not get hurt by it. I was about to get an unwanted lesson in self-control. I learned after reading one of Paul's letters to the church: never, never to pray for patience since patience all came out of repeated trials. I thought to myself "But God I am comfortable being mediocre." Well looking back on it I can't help but get a laugh. It was not pleasant at the time. Yet right now though the lessons are worth it. Before Thanksgiving I got a call from Mike Sullivan and Ed Smith 2 of my dad's stick buddies and coworkers from Austin asking if they could rent out the café for a Christmas Party. I gladly let them reserve a date. They had both flown in Vietnam and both wound up flying full time for the Army Guard out of Austin they knew since I was less then knee high.

I went back up to Denton for Thanksgiving. It was strange. All the TAMs freaks that I had hung around with were gone. Rafe Riney had told me about his adventures on Fry and I told him to keep plugging at it and that we had to find something to deal with in the music of Marilyn Manson. I told him the odd feeling on Fry we just had to get used to. Claire and I officially dissolved our relationship and I just barely managed into getting into a couple of flights with my folks. Donna hid out in the café and ate Thanksgiving with Brook her family ties had faded into oblivion.

As the party approached I got more details. Ed Smith would be flying down in a Jet Ranger from Austin Jet with his wife and boss would arrive 1st to help set up for the party. My dad would be taking down the Aero Club Cessna 182 vintage 58 an Mike Sullivan would becoming over in a rented Cessna 172 there would also be a mess of cars. I got the catering order as well. It promised to be one heck of party no alcohol but plenty of interesting people full of interesting stories. I was also going to make a small profit for the night. I would have gladly taken a loss on the party.

Ed Smith the official host of the party arrived 1st. Donna his wife and I started stringing Garland and making the café look festive for the holiday occasion. They brought some Christmas music and it help get us into the spirit. Within thirty minutes the place looked less like a barn and more like Santa's workshop. Ed was the jolly old elf skinny and lean while his wife was the voice practicality directing the operation like a field commander with a rather firm but polite manner. Donna appeared to be stiff and I shot a friendly grin with the comment, "This ain't going to be like an episode from Absolutely Fabulous so relax there will be no posturing and parading this a real party not a yuppie cockfight." She smiled at sarcasm but was still a bit nervous. Her experiences with these kinds of events had been bad. I started working on the Rotel Tomato cheese dip along with some fajitas, guacamole. The guests would be well fed heck this was a Texas party. Donna was still nervous as she helped leaving Ed and his wife Cathy to finish decorating.

One by one the other guests began to arrive. Mike shocked me his once brown hair and turned snow white. The grin on his face was there. My dad had the honors of being the first good landing by a Cessna 182 at the café my mom came along with him. As I mingled I got an app-reciation for Ed's warmth. There was first the older generation of Warrant officers pond-ering their future in the down sized army older men who had flown in Combat some in one war others two. There was also a second generation of Army Aviators younger consisting of both men and women who looked up to older pilots like my father Ed and Mike. These were the pilots who folks like Ed Mike and my Dad mentored and tried to pass the wisdom of thousands of hours of stick time to. There was a collection of business people who Ed had met in his life as pilot shuttling them back and forth in a Jet Ranger. There was a world record holder there as well. It was one half of the crew that beat Perot JR's round the world record time in a helicopter. Ed's daughters were educators. One of Ed's friends brought a staff member from the Mexican consulate as well. Ed was collector of people in addition to being an aviation nut and his collection was vast and neat I could not help but smile. I made sure the food was kept stocked. Ed and Cathy also reminded me that I was every bit as much guest as caterer. I saw Donna loosen up and start enjoying herself. No these people were not here to show off to each other they were here to have fun.

Mike pulled up to the counter and we started talking. I immediately realized I was talking to an older brother. We talked flying and Christianity and how in our lives if given a choice between the 2 flying would go in half a heartbeat. This led to some stories regarding missionary flying. He knew some people and mentioned that I might want to look into it as a way of serving God with the gift he gave of aviation. We talked about cross over skills that flying gives to living from compartmentalization to planning. Once could also over compartmentalize; and have what happened to me as I neglected some compartments for to long. We had a heart to heart about the café's first customer and he was happy at what hap-pened afterward and was pleased that I had gotten good advice. He had heard about the café and had not put two and two together till later. The press coverage that managed not even to find a file photo of me helped his confusion. He would have come straight away had he known. For that one bit I was grateful knowing that he cared was assuring. We discussed the art of teaching others to fly. I had gotten a mediocre instructor to finish me off but I had used that as a learning experience. We also agreed that every vice that Cessna 150 had made it a great trainer from it being both sloppy and light on the controls to being under-powered. He complained about the large number of airline pilot wannabes and how some of them were pathetic flight instructors more interested in building their time then producing good pilots. Some of the airline pilot wannabes took serious the art of instructing and became an asset to the profession but far too many did not. I told him about Lionel and his face lit up. Lionel was character a fine one. We started walking outside my father joined me along with Ed and few other pilots. Teenage boys compare cars pilots look at airplanes and helicopters.

Dad affectionately started wiping off a few bugs from the windscreen of the 182. I asked him about it. He gave me the low down it was grandpas Cadillac compared to the 150 it had an abundance of power and acceleration. He also made the comment one thought of rudder at cruise and put just a hint of pressure on either pedal to kick the ball into being center-ed. The straight tail gave the rudder some serious bite. It had a respectable cruise speed as well. He made the comment that it flew with Cessna slop but was heavy much heavier then a 150 in both pitch and roll. It was also a great airplane to fly in clouds since aside from sloppy trim it only wanted to go straight. It was a great family airplane capable of hob nobbing with jets in an airport where the Cessna 150 was a nuisance and capable of handling strips like mine.

We got to my airplane. It was the sports car out of the group it had some seriously low power loading. It was a semi-practical toy being slower then 182 as fast as the 172 but not certified to fly in clouds but instead it could do some fairly serious yanking and banking being well used in entry level aerobatics. It was a single person's airplane. I liked it. It could carry me and my bags where I wanted to go, weather permitting of course. I liked the fact I could learn to spin, roll, loop and fly upside down as well as traverse the skies of Texas at a reasonable clip in the bird. The fact that it was tailwheel airplane also put me in more elite section of the aviation fraternity. The airplane was like a Ford Mustang better handling then a Sedan more fun then a Sedan but not a true sports car like either a Pitts Special or Suhkoi.

We went to the Cessna 172. AOPA pilot dubbed it ordinary yet extraordinary. The airplane deserved the title and for once the lowly 172 was described for what it was. General aviat-ion just takes it far too much for granted. It was slightly slower but cheaper to operate then a Cessna 182. It could be used as family plane, ranch hand or trainer. It was not the fastest thing out there, but it still could get around busy airports without being a total pain to the business jets and airliners around. It was simply a good design that could do a variety of tasks carrying a respectable payload.

Ed had the Capitalist tool. The Jet Ranger had become a standard in the business world it had a combination of speed, payload, comfort and reliability that insured its use. Helicopters were serious tools and this one was out on a rare pleasure run.

The party slowly fizzled out and Donna and I were left to do some dishes. She looked at me somewhat strangely and told me I was right about how the party was. She told me she saw my mom being friendly to the Mexican consulate, being nice to the military wives there and helping young teachers. She had noticed the all elements within the party seemed to be casual and at ease with other happy to be around each other and just to have a good time. She was describing something that she had never seen and could scarcely comprehend. I shut up and let her talk. I felt being myself being placed in the incredibly awkward position of instructor.

Before I went to be that night I mulled the party over. I could not help but smile. Only Ed could bring a cast like that together. My Dad and I built on one of remaining bonds the fraternity/ sorority of aviators. Mike had been a God sent, offering an example of being a godly pilot. I was along way off from feeling fine but I had taken a couple steps on that road that night. It had been a good night.

Donna was surprised as we were putting up the dishes about that night. She had never been to a party like that. She saw some posing but it was an eccentric collection of people brought by an eccentric man who had a good time. We talked as we put up the dishes. We talked a bit about the dynamics of that night. She made the comment that she had never seen a party like that. I smiled that as rough as my family situation had been I could enjoy such things and my dad was a good finder of friends. Ed was a jolly old elf and Donna was amazed at the sheer lack of posing.