The following morning I awoke thunderstruck at the night before. I ate breakfast yet there was something I could not shake off about Fry. I cared about it deeply it was raw wild dangerous and full of pain. I was saddened yet excited. There had been nothing subtle about the night before. It was as far away from flying as one could get but I could not get my mind off of it as I drove down to Meacham Airport. Meacham is the perfect representation of Ft Worth. DFW had taken away its passenger duties and the airport itself had settled into a reminder of the sixties and had the lazy backbeat of small town airport with a few subtle western accents. I could feel hints of it. The terminal was built in the seventies but it had some accents that oozed Ft Worth's nature above the sterility of the city.

I walked into Delta Aeronautics an American among Arabs; Asians with the obligatory European tossed in. I shifted into diplomat mode as I made may to Dave's cubicle. It was simple office complex off of hall at Meacham's old terminal building. There was the white sheet rock and instructors were given cubicles on the West Side of the room facing the windows overlooking the hall. From the cubicles there was group of enclosed desks. The first group had TV and VCRs in them. The back room had a water fountain in it along with obligatory coffee maker. Besides the instructor's desks a cabinet with assorted supplies. It was a cozy set up with all sorts of aviation-related posters,books and models littering the room.

Dave taught me about crosswind landings and the conditions were perfect demonstration of them. The flight was briefed and before we walked out I got a belly full of water that would be sweated out of me. Dave watched me pre-flight 6DA. She was a good handling Cessna 150 wired tight no play in the controls. That is if you could call any Cessna 150 good handling. I was already sweating as the ramp temp was soaring passed 95 enroute to 105. A Texas airport ramp in the summer is as close as I guess I'll ever get to hell. The engine being cranked at least provided cooling wind through the airplane. I listened to ATIS and copied down the info and then called ground. Ground gave me the clearance to 16L. The taxi was smooth and hot. I was beginning to feel at home at Meacham. The run-up went smooth and the airplane was deemed airworthy. As we took off an old grin popped onto my face as we climbed out heading to Spinks. The runway was narrow and it was provided lots of good prac-tice for 3 touch and goes. Holding cross control almost seemed counter intuitive after being drilled to kick the ball to the center but I was slowly getting the hang of it. After the 3 we then went west climbed a bit higher where the air was cooler and some stalls and steep turns each one improving somewhat. The hour and a half flew by. We landed covered with sweat the flight was debriefed and I hopped in my car and headed home for a late lunch.

I called Claire and we agreed that after church Sunday evening I would pick her up and we would hang out at North Lakes Park. The time flew by from dinner to church the following night. I was dead tired and went to bed early. I was excited about the evening service. Keith Chancey had given us graduating seniors the order of the boot and the college group would mature us and prep us for the next stage for our lives leaving that part was hard to do.

I drove to the new sanctuary nervous. I was excited and welcomed with open arms into the college group. I was no longer master of my turf starting out rather on the bottom of the totem pole trying hard to learn adapt and not make an idiot of myself. Tom Nelson gave a wildly interestingly sermon reinforcing the Liar Lunatic Lord principal. It was par with some college lectures I would hear at Schreiner intellectually demanding. I guess today to revise what CS Lewis would saw Christ was either David Koresh or he was Marshall Applewhite or he was the son of God who paid for our sins willingly in act of the love that will never be paralleled.

I drove to Claire's trailer and was greeted by her cats one of who acted much more like a dog then a cat. He was friendly and followed us around like a puppy. I was happy as I drove the venerable tan turn on Loop 288 in a drive I have made dozens of time before with the expressed purpose of being a Christian wearing the purple and Gold. Now I was being written into history. I pulled into the same old parking lot and we started our walk over ground that had seen me sweat seen me freeze. We walked hand in hand washing high school away from minds and putting it to memory. The last time I ran that course I was recovering from a cold and doing either an act of stupidity or bravery. No my final race was a glorious event in which I flew over the ground with max effort and brute elegant speed. I ran with courage determination pain and agonizing slowness. Wearing just the uniform running on top of dam with freezing winds of over twenty miles an hour is hard to forget. I told myself I ran it as a Unicorn. In that statement I revealed where my heart really resided. I told this Claire as we discussed JROTC. What I did on the cross-country course no longer mattered much. What JROTC was about no longer mattered as well. We hugged after I drove home early it was not an owl date since I had an early flight the following day.

The following day was a fun day of flying diplomacy and learning more about flight. I was getting a course in international affairs as well as private pilot's license from Delta Aeronautics. My reflexes were slowly coming to be sharp enough. I made it home after lunch tired and satisfied. Claire came by that after noon and we talked some. I would solo near the end of the week.

The following day way was to be a long one from 0700 till 1400. I got up showered read the word and headed off to Delta Aeronautics. I passed the practice written having long since memorized DFW Class B as it was now called and the appropriate regs. Another flight,another hour or so in the air that was pure magic. Each steep turn each stall each lazy S over a road somewhat magical. I left before lunch and sucked chocolate malt down from the Braums on the north side of Twenty the last exit in Ft Worth while driving home. I snagged a nap before dinner and waited for another Fry excursion.

The drive was in familiar now and I found myself parked on the front side of UNT's auditorium. We walked toward the Kharma. A shot of adrenaline hit my system. The air was humid and stale as usual summer had claimed the metroplex. We were discussing Stone Temple Pilots. I thought in many ways their music lacked the authenticity of Pearl Jam. I sarcastically called them poser grunge. They just seemed too slick. They tripped off my cheese meter every time I listened to them.

We opened the door of Kharma were greeted by the cloud of cigarette smoke. We quickly made our way back and ordered. I grabbed a double cappuccino and Claire an espresso. Kathrine strode the café. Claire made the comment that people like her were ruining Fry. I made a comment that she was clueless and was heading for disaster. Kathrine waved and the 3 of us chatted she was talking about how she loved Stone Temple Pilots and Pearl Jam. I made a comment how I really liked music from Gin Blossoms. The Gin Blossoms were of more rock laid back sound more rural accents and more tired really. Buried deep within the Gin Blossoms was a hint of hope, all be it a small one. The Gin Blossoms were pursuing something from drinking enough to make this world look new again. There was a compass a weak one in their music. She nodded the conversation ended and she went on our way as Claire and I sipped our coffee. I was trying desperately trying to reach Kathrine it was not working. We walked out and headed for a bite or Pizza at the Flying Tomato. We could see Rob and Kathrine together. I thought to myself "Damn!" I was getting frustrated and desperate not wanting to see another one self-destruct. Tevin and this character Derik sprung up a conversation with us. Derik exuded the 80s new wave like body odor he was tall big and had the Devo glasses. Tevin at his heart was trusting trusting of Rob. Rob came by and gave his hello to us. He was smiling we both knew why. We nibbled on the pizza and decided that after listening to Steve Miller's "Take The Money And Run" kitsch enough was enough and we both decided to hang out on Spencer. Steve Miller was and his music was the innocence the innocence I never had.

Once we got to her house we started walking up the road to the creek. We talked about the Café and how I was in pursuit of the original Jesus freak mentality when hippies 1st found the real source of truth Jesus Christ. The hippies rebelled against sin and many of them went from the frying pan straight to the fire. The civil rights movement started the 60's right Dr King spoke with moral authority and racism was shown to be what it was immoral. I pondered the paradox of how being open minded was praised. If there is no absolute truth how can you have any activism and how do you know close mindedness is not just another lifestyle. Dr King was intolerant of wrong the wrong of racism. Intolerance for evil is no vice at all it is a virtue. The irony was that the hypocrisy they rebelled against they became. Then starting in 67 things started getting more and more askew. The Doors pushed the limits of reality and Hendrix pushed the music envelope far beyond what the Beatles and Stones had even dared to but the messages and mentality were getting weird. Woodstock was an event that deserves to be cursed and praised community and sincerity with some serious excesses. I guess we both were a bit left of Don Mclean. Holly's death may have been a death note to rock and roll's innocent side but there were forces deep within it that would have done the same regardless of the suicide flight of the pilot VFR into IMC that killed Holly the Big Bopper and Ritchie Valens. Clear sky pilots when they enter clouds are bound to die. Claire was bright offering differing perspectives that we shared. We finished our walk and I split I would fly the following afternoon.

I drove home stung by Kathrine's present course. I forced myself to sleep. Kathrine was innocent clueless to right and wrong. She somewhat isolated me for the last two years. In many ways I was a symbol of her fear in school. She was walking into the jaws of dragon and had no clue. Finally after mulling the situation over and over I forced myself to sleep after reading more of the word, as was my nightly habit.

I toasted myself a couple Eggo waffles and cranked up the tan turd for a quick run to Ft Worth for another flight. It was 10 o'clock already. I drove down 35eager to try and put the heartbreak, frustration and intensity of the previous night behind me. I half-hazardly listened to the radio as I drove my car hard pegging the speedometer at 70. It was an interesting challenge sharpening my nerves for the job ahead of simple flight. J Mac Mc Clellan wrote a column in Flying about energy management and I worked hard to handle it. I was burning gas but I had plenty of money. I finally arrived and started some ground school.