Early on in my training, a friend told me something I perceived to be the most philosophical thing ever. We were discussing some facet of studying and the multitude of acronyms when he told me, "A good pilot never stops learning". Later on, I saw the same quote was part of Training Magazine's theme and the philosophical value was lost. The principle, however, wasn't.

Learning is something that everyone goes through starting even before we're born. For yours truly, it's always been an adventure. The early reading, writing, and arithematic; not so much, but I have a habit of soaking up everything I can about subjects that interest me. A friend at work once described me as "a disease, once you get slightly involved in something, you spread until you know everything about it". I hope he meant that in a nice way?

Aviation was no different. I immersed myself in any book, magazine, or computer program that could teach me more. My home-study program for my PPL was soon completed and I moved on to devouring other material. The written knowledge test was no problem and I soon took and passed the practical test for my PPL. Now, I'm a pilot, but the learning hasn't stopped.

That's why I'm contemplating getting another license; one that will allow me to learn the highest of aeronautical knowledge. I'm talking, of course, about the Ground Instructor license. Though I do intend to further my flying certificate, it'll be some time before I can and I thought I'd do something worth-while in the mean time. The process of obtaining the license will include studying the aeronautical knowledge areas necessary for all levels of flying certificates. Not only would this allow me to learn more, it would afford me the opportunity to do something else I love: sharing knowledge.

I doubt highly I'll instruct very much, but the certificate is a great way to add credibility to any certificate. It firmly states that the holder knows their stuff. It will also make the path to higher flight certificates much easier.

Death is a difficult thing to deal with at any time, but when it's so related to something you hold so dear, it's even tougher. You hear about it and try to distance yourself, but the tight-nit aviation community feels every single one like a sharp sting.

I hesitate to publish any story about the death of an aviator. There's a magnifying glass on aviation that threatens to collapse our world. Hundreds die in car accidents every week, but news coverage of those don't garner good ratings. When a single person, however, dies in a plane crash, that's front page news. Writing in the aviation field, I feel obligated to discuss the incidents to some extent. Readers want to know, but I try very hard to present the facts and even harder to discourage the thinking that planes are death traps in the sky.

For those journalist who view such tragedies as reader-ship boosters, I truly feel sorry. They haven't a clue that the 'story of the day' was just the end of a much longer story; one of a wonderful loving person who had family and friends. They neglect to think that by 'spinning' the story into a dramatic tale they're helping to destroy something that person stood for; something that person loved and gave their lives to.

For me, it's much more. It's a thought as I run my hand across a wing, a brief pause before starting the engine and a small prayer before I depart.

To those who've taken their last flight,

Steven