When I enlisted in the USAF (1965) they packed up into some old airliner and flew us from Cleveland down to Texas.

I had never been in a plane before then.

Very first was in a United DC-3 when I was 3 years old, when we moved from Cleveland to Cheyenne. My Daddy worked for United and was being transferred to their training facility in Cheyenne. When they wanted to move him again, he quit, and a little over a year later, he was killed in a P-51 during his 2nd transition flight with the Wyoming Air Guard. But I had already fallen in love with airplanes and aviation and concluded that I would be a pilot someday. Daddy had just turned 29 when he was killed in 1948; I took my first flight lesson just after I turned 29, November 1972.

Cary

wrong place - sorry