Will It Ever Stop?

I would like to introduce you to one of the most talented, high achievers that I know. His name is Chris Kenny. You can read all about him HERE. 

Chris is an extremely gifted artist, a baritone. He won the top award from the American Opera Society of Chicago this past year. He likes to say, "I yell pretty." Does he ever! 

But, he has another passion, aviation. A wonderful pilot that I have the pleasure of being able to spend time with. Lucky me! 

A few days ago, Chris and I met to do a little flying. Little did I know that he had taken this picture of me, and posted it on Instagram with his own little inscription. There's a story behind the picture.

While Chris and I were getting the plane ready for our flight, a man walked into the hangar, looked at me, literally turned his back to me and started talking to Chris about what he thought was Chris' airplane. Chris quickly jumped in and told him that he was just along for the ride, the plane belongs to her(me). And yet, the man still couldn't turn and address me. I said nothing and just went on with what I was doing. 

When I was a student pilot, I was signed off to take a long trip on my own, part of my requirements. I got my weather briefing, and all looked fine. As I left Chicago, the clouds were no where near as high as I had been told. Looking to the south, it looked like they were building. I felt that I could probably make it to my destination, but would I be able to make it back? So, rather than keep going, I decided to stop at a small airport that has a wonderful little restaurant where I could get a cup of coffee and a bowl of soup. While I was sitting at the counter, an older man came up and sat next to me. He asked if I had flown in. I told him that I had, and that I was a student pilot. I went on to tell him that I was supposed to do a cross country flight, but the cloud deck had come down, so I decided to stop for lunch and try another day. He looked at me and said, "you are going to make a wonderful pilot. You made a decision and you stuck with it." As the conversation went on, I found out that he was none other than Mr. Clow, the owner of the airport, and a highly decorated WWII pilot. At one point he asked me to tell him about the day I soled. I felt a little intimidated telling this decorated pilot my simple little story. He insisted, and I obliged. Once I finished, he said, "the first day that you climbed into that plane and flew by yourself will never be topped by anything else you will ever do in your life. Everything depended on you, everything." He then went on to say, "I want to tell you something. There are a lot of people who feel that a woman has no place in the cockpit of an airplane. But, you do. Whenever someone says something to you, regardless of who they are, hold your head high and know that you worked so very hard to achieve your ratings. No one gave you anything."

Mr. Clow is sadly no longer with us, but his words remain in my heart. There have been so many times that I have felt him sit on my shoulder and whisper those words in my ear. He was in that hangar a few days ago. 

While Chris and I were out flying, I asked if he had noticed what happened. In that big booming voice of his he said, "how could I have missed it?" Then he told me that when he came back from the restroom, and saw me working away as I do, he took a picture and posted it to Instagram. When we landed, he showed me the picture. I had to smile.

Sadly, there will always be people who think that because of your gender, your race, your age, and so many other crazy reasons, that someone doesn't belong where they are. I've learned that I am not going to change their mind. But, what I can do is live my best life, and do my best to show who I am.

A few years ago I got into an argument with a priest about going for ashes on Ash Wednesday. I told him that there was nothing he could say to convince me to go. I told him that if others don't know who I am the other 364 days a year, then me walking around like a martyr on Ash Wednesday makes me a hypocrite. He had to agree. 

None of us can be perfect, but we can be a light in the world, shining brightly through our words and through our actions.