Father’s Day without Daddy

This Father’s Day is bittersweet for me. Of course I miss Daddy, but I am reminded of numerous opportunities that I have to be proud of him.

I have the opportunity to travel often, primarily utilizing the airlines. Each time I fly, I am reminded of how my father loved to fly — as long as he was the pilot. My screensaver is a photo of him piloting a helicopter.

So many times, parents express how proud they are of their children as a result of various accomplishments. However, there is a particular time that I was especially proud of Daddy. 

The family had driven to a small private hanger in Webb in July of 1983 as he was about to fly to Oklahoma City for a class reunion in a borrowed plane.

As Daddy was doing the “walk around” that pilots are required to do prior to takeoff, my brother David asked Daddy what the year the plane was.

“1974!” Daddy responded with pride.

David exclaimed, “Man, are you crazy?” He stomped back to the car, got in and slammed the door.

I understood his reaction, but, after all, I was returning to Dothan in the car, not the plane.

Daddy explained that a plane like this does not receive the wear and tear that an automobile does from daily use. Moments later, Daddy and David were airborne.

A week later, Daddy called from Moton Field in Tuskegee to tell us pick them up at the hanger in Webb in an hour. Just about dusk — too dark to be light and too light to be dark — blue lights on the runway suddenly came on.

I could see the plane approaching the runway. At that moment, I felt that Daddy was on stage and that the world was his audience.

It was a perfect landing. When he looked over at Mommie and me, he was grinning from ear to ear.

To this day, I judge every flight based on the way the pilot lands the plane.

Touch down, roll the plane to a complete stop without jolting the passengers. When I was 16, Daddy thought I should learn to stop the car like that, too.
Wheels up, Daddy.  God bless.

Sheron Rose is the daughter of Sherman Rose, whose contributions to aviation and the Tuskegee Airmen are chronicled on a mural at the corner of East Main and North St. Andrews streets. She lives in Montgomery.