A Pilot’s Daughter

A Pilot’s Daughter

 by Angela Baker-Saunders

Purely by luck, I became the daughter of a pilot in 1985. Now, I am never short on flying metaphors and I’m still deathly afraid of heights–but flying gives me a thrill and a sense of pride knowing my dad piloted those skies.

Working on my dad’s project from time to time has been an honor and a joy. With a background in marketing and communications, it made sense to help my dad with some social media graphics and provide some guidance and know-how in navigating starting a blog and posting to social media. The best part has been, by far, hearing all of his stories.

Growing up, I knew my dad had a different kind of job. He was gone for two weeks, then home for two weeks. I didn’t know of many kids at school whose dad had the same profession. I also never got to go with my dad to “Take Your Kid to Work Day,” which seemed totally unfair and lame. 

My dad’s job meant he missed a few things while away on trips. But he also bid around my events and special occasions so he could see me in my finest moments as a kid. More often than not, my dad bid his schedule to watch me bring home a trophy, win some ribbons at the Horse & Pony 4-H fair, perform in the school play, or compete with my school band. So many opportunities were afforded to me, and I’m still realizing all the many pockets of privilege that were mine because of my dad’s profession.

Not everyone in our small farming community fully knew what my dad did. My parents were humble and quiet folks, and very active in our local 4-H community, church, and school. Even still, my dad’s frequent absence worried our neighbor. She confided to my mom she wasn’t sure if he wasn’t able to get regular work for a reason but to let her know if we needed anything. I do appreciate June’s concern and consideration, but nope–we were just fine! My mother was fiercely independent and more than able to take care of anything on the farm while my dad was away. In fact, in the winter, folks said they knew when Wayne was home because if the tractor was stuck at the end of the lane it meant he was the one who plowed the drive during snow.

Sometimes, dad would bid overtime to pay for big trips or exciting new endeavors. His penchant for adventure spilled over into family vacation planning: a ten-day trek by horseback in New Zealand, a week-long excursion by horseback in Banff, Canada, or a leisurely trip to Cairns, Australia. These were all adventures I was able to be a part of before I was even twenty-years-old. His piloting career funded a lot of good times and memories that live in our photo albums now, and I’m so grateful for all of those many experiences.

Growing up as a pilot’s daughter probably left me with some unique quirks. I often say, “Clear right,” when I’m in the passenger seat and we’re at an intersection. As I mentioned before, I often reach for flying metaphors to explain nearly any situation in life. When I board a plane, I have a long and lingering consideration for all the crew members because my dad has been one in their same ranks.

My dad’s flying career was long and successful at Airborne Express, and his time there afforded him many friendships and stories. I’ve heard a few of the stories and met a few of the friends, and one thing I’m amazed by is the camaraderie of pilots. Pilots are like family. When my dad had open-heart surgery, many of his flying buddies were on my list of people to update regularly throughout the surgery and recovery process. His flying buddies sent videos, emails, texts, and called him to help him keep up morale. And I’m so glad my dad is a pilot, through and through, because it makes him who he is today.

I am proud to be a pilot’s daughter, even now in middle-age, there is a sense of pride and identity in being A Pilot’s Daughter. My kid’s now say, “clear right,” reflexively when we drive. All but my first were born after my dad’s retirement–but that doesn’t mean they aren’t aware and influenced by his career and identity as a pilot. And just like that–though he may be the only pilot in the family–we are a people who are shaped and influenced by a pilot, and I’d like to think that legacy will carry on.