Been feeling pretty shy about writing this, writing any type of writing that other people would read really, but I sppouse writing frees the soul and encourages others to persever.
My mom tells me I must have been 5 when I spoke of becoming a pilot, but I mean every child at that age wants to become a pilot or a Dr or a teacher. My own memory of the conversation was when I was about 7 and I was at the airport for the first time, Jan smuts international it was called back then now O.R Tambo.
I had never seen anything so marvelous in my entire life hahaha yes 7 years on earth is a long time, i was 3 years shy of a decade. It was probably a Boeing 737 taking off on what is runway 03 today.
I wondered how on earth is it possible for such a massive object to be in the air, was it magic, who was “driving” it, how,what, somebody please explain to me what sorcery this was.
My grandmother would remind me each and every day about being a pilot,she would always make an effort to seek out anything that would bring me closer to my dreams.
Went through primary school wondering how small me would ever get to become a pilot. The most challenging thing was figuring out how to expose myself to things related to aviation, the most I could do was talk to pilots and ask to view the cockpit.
Exposure is something most exposed people take so much for granted, looking back I realise that all I needed to do was ask but who was I to ask and how would I find them. Where as someone, priveledged would automatically be able to identify where and who to talk to in order to obtain knowledge or information.
Through all of this my grandma always managed to find airshow dates and so the journey truly began.