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904 (Lake Chapala-Mexico) WingAir Force Association of Canada
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Send site suggestions to webmaster@904wing.org Last updated Febuary 5 2012 Wing Newsletters Special Events |
Dinner Dance Remember to organize your table and get your tickets for the Dinner Dance at La Nueva Posada on 16 March. Tickets are on sale at La Nueva Posada at a cost of $225 pesos each. Memberships Your 2006 dues for membership in the Canadian Air Force Association and 904 Wing are now due. See Treasurer Tombo at the Beer Call on 31 March or at the AGM on 7 April. Medical Panel There was a huge turnout for the Medical Panel with 80 members and guests. Based on the response and the high level of interest the Executive Council has approved the addition of a Medical Resource Section on the Wing Website. Our medical Advisor, Martin Inwood has agreed to review the information that will be presented on the Website. PILOTS (Article submitted by one of our members) You see them at airport terminals around the world. You see them in the morning early, sometimes at night. They come neatly uniformed and hatted, sleeves striped; wings over their left pocket; they show up looking fresh. There's a brisk, young-old look of efficiency about them. They arrive fresh from home, from hotels, carrying suitcases, battered briefcases, bulging, with a wealth of technical information, data, filled with regulations, rules. They know the new, harsh sheen of Chicago's O'Hare. They know the cluttered approaches to Newark; they know the tricky shuttle that is Rio; they know but do not relish the intricate instrument approaches to various foreign airports; they know the volcanoes all around Guatemala. They respect foggy San Francisco. They know the up-and-down walk to the gates at Dallas, the Texas sparseness of Abilene, the very narrow Berlin Corridor, New Orleans' sparkling terminal, the milling crowds at Washington. They know Butte, Boston, and Beirut. They appreciate Miami's perfect weather; they recognize the danger of an ice-slick runway at JFK. They understand short runways, antiquated fire equipment, inadequate approach lighting, but there is one thing they will never comprehend: Complacency. They marvel at the exquisite good taste of hot coffee in Anchorage and a cold beer in Guam. They vaguely remember the workhorse efficiency of the DC-3s, the reliability of the DC- 4s and DC 6s, the trouble with the DC-7 and the propellers on Boeing 377s. They discuss the beauty of an old gal named Connie. They recognize the high shrill whine of a Viscount, the rumbling thrust of a DC-8 or 707 on a clearway takeoff from Haneda and a Convair. The remoteness of the 747 cockpit. The roominess of the DC10 and the snug fit of a 737. They speak a language unknown to Webster. They discuss ALPA, EPRs, fans, mach and bogie swivels and strangely, such things as bugs, thumpers, crickets, and CATs, but they are inclined to change the subject when the uninitiated approaches. They have tasted the characteristic loneliness of the sky, and occasionally the adrenaline of danger. They respect the unseen thing called turbulence; they know what it means to fight for self-control, to discipline one's senses. They buy life insurance, but make no concession to the possibility of complete disaster, for they have uncommon faith in themselves and what they are doing. They concede the glamour is gone from flying. They deny a pilot is through at sixty. They know tomorrow, or the following night, something will come along they have never met before; they know flying requires perseverance and vigilance. They know they must practice, lest they retrograde. They realize why some wit once quipped: "Flying is year after year of monotony punctuated by seconds of stark terror." As a group, they defy mortality tables; yet approach semi-annual physical examinations with trepidation. They are individualistic, yet bonded together. They are family people, yet rated poor marriage bets. They are reputedly overpaid, yet entrusted with equipment worth millions and entrusted with lives, countless lives. At times they are reverent: They have watched the Pacific sky turn purple at dusk and the stark beauty of sunrise over Iceland at the end of a polar crossing. They know the twinkling, jeweled beauty of Los Angeles at night; they have seen snow on the Rockies. They remember the vast unending mat of green Amazon jungle, the twisting silver road that is the father of waters, an ice cream cone called Fujiyama and also the hump of Africa. Who can forget Everest from a 100 miles away, or the ice fog in Fairbanks in January? They have watched a satellite streak across a starry sky, seen the clear, deep blue of the stratosphere, felt the incalculable force of the heavens. They have marveled at sun-streaked evenings, dappled earth, velvet night, spun silver clouds, sculptured cumulus: God's weather. They have viewed the Northern Lights, a wilderness of sky, a pilot's halo, a bomber's moon, horizontal rain, contrails and St Elmo's Fire. Only a pilot experiences all these. It is their world. Survey Results The President and members of the Executive Council extend thanks to all the members who completed the recent member survey. A summary of the results is provided here. In addition, members provided constructive suggestions in several areas that have been reviewed by the Executive Council.
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