As I sit here with my trusty campanion,, the question comes up “What was it that made us all arrive to this point in life?” Was it luck, divine providence, destiny or Fate?
I believe it is Fate, the development of events beyond a person's control, regarded as determined by a supernatural power..
The three fates in Greek and roman mythology are three goddesses who presided over the birth and life of humans. Each person's destiny was thought of as a thread spun, measured, and cut by the three Fates, Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos.
After my retirement, among the many projects I undertook, one was to get back into writing. In a writing class I enrolled in, the instructor had us analyze the autobiographic writing style of Earnest K. Gann. “Fate is the Hunter” and “The High and the Mighty”, are two of his best sellers. I had read and reread them many times as a teenager. In the conclusion of ‘Fate is the Hunter,” Ernie describes an incident which made him conclude that Fate, his and that of others, governed or controlled his and their lives. It was his last flight.
Eventually, Ernie retired to the Pacific Northwest. Judge for yourself what it was that predicted his “Last Flight.”
The following is a synopsis of the event that determined Ernie’s “Last Flight.”
“Gann was piloting a DC-4A, bound from Honolulu to Burbank. Over the course of several hours, the aircraft suffers a series of strange but not ominous vibrations. Grimes, the intelligent and attentive Flight attendant, complains of a bizarre shaking motion in the tail section. Gann and his crew investigate but eventually decide that one of the engines must be running roughly. Gann is anxious to reach land and, contrary to common practice, does not reduce speed in the face of the uncertain vibration. Throughout the remainder of the flight Grimes continues to complain, the crew continues to inspect, and Gann continues to wonder what could be wrong—if anything. He performs a personal physical inspection of the plane, concludes it must not be serious, and flies as normal. He lands the plane in Burbank and deplanes most of his passengers before continuing to Oakland. He is scheduled to leave the next day on a sailing vacation and, anxious to be home, causes more fuel than usual to be loaded so that he can sustain maximum speed throughout the short flight. While on the ground he is informed that another crew, also flying a DC-4A, had just been killed in a bizarre crash the day before. He flies to Oakland, lands the plane, stands around anxiously while both mechanics and engineers perform an inconclusive inspection, and then leaves for his sailing vacation.
When he returns from vacation, three weeks later, he is informed that his vibrating plane had been missing a critical bolt; the loss of the same bolt had caused the other crew to lose control and crash. Only an impossibly complicated series of events—flying at a certain speed, loading additional fuel, flying at a certain altitude—had allowed him to retain control. While the senior engineer implies that Gann has exceptional dumb luck, Gann felt It was time not to tempt fate any further. Gann reflects that men’s fates vary according to unseen providence.”
Fate is the Hunter by Ernest K. Gann | Summary & Study Guide © 2000-2011 BookRags, Inc.
During this study, the instructor assigned us the task of writing an autobiographical sketch of our lives and if Fate was a factor.
In Greek, Roman, and Nordic mythology, there are three fates, goddesses: One creates the thread of life, the other maintains the thread and the final fate cuts the thread of life. Reflecting on my life, my definition of fate slightly differs from the official Webster Dictionary definition of Fate.
“The Fates are huntresses, seekers of one’s destiny, who surreptitiously infuse into it, inexplicable events, ever changing that destiny, one or more challenges at a time; all the while cackling, like the witches in Macbeth, at our folly.”
I am sure we all have stories wherein Fate infused events into our lives and changed our destiny. The following is my story...
It is midnight over the north Pacific. The darkness from outside permeates into the flight deck, softened by the glow from the instrument lights. The rhythmic throb of the four engines lulling one to sleep, as is evident by the buzzing sound coming from the guy in the right seat. I am flying a 747-400 and along with my crew and 321 souls, are racing eastward to meet the sun and then on to our destination. Looking out the windshield, the universe in all its splendor, looks down on me one last time. This is my last flight. In the past and now, I have always considered this time in flight as my cathedral. A place of reflection. The past and the future
It seems only yesterday, that 22 airline pilot wannabes were gathered in the vending area in the bowels of the green windowless Northwest Airlines General Offices. Trying to introduce ourselves and impress each other, while gawking at the new class of flight attendants walking quickly through the area. Of the twenty-two pilots only myself and another junior pilot are left. Many of the twenty have flown their last flight and some never flew that last flight but flew west instead.
I believe that the Fates are in my life. Inserting into it inexplicable events, mischievously at times, to push me in the direction of being here, on the last flight.
Fate deeded that I be born in an insignificant country, Lithuania, during the heyday of World War 2. My mother, with me in her arms, and her family were told to flee the country by my father, to avoid living under Russian rule. The family joined other refugees and eventually made its way into Germany. My father was captured by the Russians and sent to the gulags in Siberia not to be heard from until just before his death in 1986.
My mother and her family were captured as refugees by the retreating German army. My mother having been a nurse in Lithuania, was conscripted by the German army to work at a hospital in Berlin. By Fates design, it was in what eventually became the American sector of Berlin after the war. During the bombing of Berlin by the allies, I was placed in the hospital orphan age which had a bomb shelter. Many a night was spent in that bomb shelter, and I survived. Later, during my teen years, my mother would swear she picked up the wrong child from the orphanage.
My mother, as fates would have it, was born in the US during my grandparents 20-year sojourn in the US. Being a natural born US citizen, she was entitled to travel to the US immediately. I was not. It took 3 years for my paperwork to arrive with permission to enter the US.
During this waiting time, we lived in many refugee camps throughout Germany. At one of those camps, an American aviator befriended my family, he gave me a small tin airplane. My destiny was set. As a child, it went everywhere with me, even to bed. It stayed with me for many years.
Finally, we boarded a refuge troop carrier ship, survived a hurricane at sea and finally arrived in America in 1948 at age 5. The fates were looking over me.
Fate had us boarding the train going from New York City to Chicago, our destination. Unexplainably, my mother and I got off in Rochester, New York. I suspect she followed other refugees scheduled to get off there. Taken in by an old
Lithuanian family, they cared for us, sent me to school, and helped my mother find a job. This is where we stayed.
Growing up in upstate New York, I assimilated well into the culture. Went to school and lived the life of an unadjusted teenager. My room was a hanger for model airplanes. As I grew older, I would ride my bike to the nearest airport and “thumb” for rides. Many of those rides were in “taildraggers” i.e.: Piper Cubs, Champs, (my favorite airplanes to this day).
Those rides paid off. They prepared me not only for my first official flying lesson but kept me motivated to seek my private license.
Off I went to college for a journalism major but spent so much time at airports that I was soon asked to leave. I floundered about for a year, going to school part time while earning enough money to get that private pilot’s license. Previously, a couple of years earlier, I had an accident while riding my bicycle. Took the settlement money, bit the bullet and went after my dream and enrolled at Spartan School of Aeronautics. Fate seems to make sure when one earns good fortune, a little bad fortune must precede it.
After my last check ride and during the interview with the Director of Flying for a job at Spartan as a flight instructor, the phone rang. After he answered it, he handed it to me and said, “this may work better for you” The short of it, I was hired to be a contract flight instructor for the US Air Force’s T41 program at Laredo TX. Which by the way kept me out of the draft.
After a year and half of instructing, I ventured forth and became a vagabond. Working in any place that would hire me. In Africa working for a wild animal TV show producer flying animals around. Flight instructing, everywhere and anywhere. Becoming a freight dog, with a little crop dusting thrown in to make life exciting.
Finally, I settled down and went back to school at the University of Dayton. Got three years of college under my belt, while still hanging around the airport.
Instructing and flying any charter I could find. One day I had to fly a freighter aircrew from Dayton to Detroit for Zantop Airlines. Upon arriving, I asked operations if they needed pilots, and the next thing I knew I was hired. Zantop became Universal Airlines within a couple of weeks and as such I was in their first C-46 class at Willow Run airport.
After training and flying a dozen trips, myself and my classmates were called into a meeting. Change of plans by Universal management and we were all furloughed. After the furlough meeting, I drove over to Detroit Metro Airport, to have lunch with a Northwest Airlines ticket agent that I “knew”. She handed me the pilot application and said, “fill it out and stop feeling sorry for yourself”. I did as I was told.
I took the application over to the station manager, who called a person in the Personnel Department named Randy Breize (sic). The next thing I knew, I was on an Electra flight that afternoon to Minneapolis for an interview. It was a good thing I had worn a suit and tie for the furlough meeting. (A big, big thank you Randy Brieze(sic), wherever you are.) I was hired for the June 3rd class of 1968.
For the next couple of years, the Fates, seemed to have backed off. They allowed me to enjoy a somewhat normal life of an airline pilot. There were a couple of engine failures but nothing of imminent danger. Survived the usual strikes, furloughs, upgrades, check rides and numerous base transfers. Life was good, living the dream. However, early in my career, the Fates had one more inexplicable event to throw into my life.
Upon returning from a home visit and attempting to catch a flight from Chicago to Minneapolis; the flight was full. A Boeing 707 had a mechanical problem and was being ferried with crew to Minneapolis. A bunch of us non-revenue pass riders got onboard. As I entered the cabin, waiting to greet me was the most beautiful flight attendant I had ever seen. It turned out; it was her very first flight. Later, during the flight, as she came by me offering coffee, I asked her for a date in a “suave” pilot way. Where upon she politely walked away. I kept trying during the flight to entice her to go out with me; lunch, sailing on Lake Minnetonka, dinner at Fletchers. Finally, she agreed to go sailing only after I was vouched by my seat mate, a flight attendant that knew me “too” well. That and the fact that I had a new black lab puppy seemed to close the deal. I never had a chance. Despite my roommates’ warnings about my character, she felt I had possibilities and married me. Today, 30 years and four kids later, she is still looking for those possibilities. She is back there trusting me and the fates to get us safely to our destination.
Soon the hint of dawn was starting to break over the glare shield. Time to get out of my reverie and start to work one last time. I can only thank the universe or the Fates for allowing me to have reached this point in my life. I hope the fates will continue to take care of me and I promise not to tempt them (right!!).
With luck, I will set this great bird softly on the tarmac in Detroit and my career will have come full circle. I will accept the congratulations of my peers, my friends, and my family. Though I will leave with a heavy heart, I have a happiness so few can ever understand.
What the future holds for me, I do not know. I will let the fates decide.