Life in the Ville by Jimmy Del Ponte

Back in the early 80’s a Somerville pal got his pilot’s license. I was a lot less fearless back then so I agreed to go up with him for a ride. The airport was on Billerica Rd., Tewksbury, or something like that so we picked a day and hit the field.

I was pretty nervous but I didn’t really want to show it. So, I briefly climbed into the passenger seat as my friend took the pilot’s seat. He messed around with the cockpit for a while getting used to the knobs and levers and then started the plane up.

The whole thing buzzed and hummed as we stated moving. I’d even go as far as saying the small plane felt rickety. I wondered two things. One, what the hell am I doing and two, it was it too late to turn back and let me out.

Next thing you know we were whizzing down the runway. Up, up and away and suddenly trees looked like twigs and cars looked like ants. I was very nervous way up there putting my life into my old Somerville pal’s hands.

We flew around for about 45 minutes and then my friend started looking for the airport. He couldn’t find the airport and what happened next was very hairy. He told me to grasp the steering wheel and hold the plane steady. What? Me? He then unfolded a map. We were hundreds of feet in the air and there was no sign of the runway or airport.

To say I was scared is an understatement. After about one, long minute he seemed to have found the airport. I kept the plane steady as my friend planned our next move.

So, all of a sudden, I can say that I flew an airplane. Okay, maybe I wasn’t quite as much a pilot, but I was still helpful in completing our flight.

 Did I mention that it was the most harrowing experience in my life? File under nervous copilot