English 1101 Portfolio Fall 2011
Oh, How I Love the Smell of Jet-Fuel in the Morning
Dan and I walked out on to the tarmac. It was a bright and humid summer day. He handed me the checklist and told me to do the preflight. I walked around the airplane in a clockwise fashion starting with the pilot’s side of the cockpit, working my way to the port-side wing. I methodically, almost robotically scanned the checklist and airplane components. I checked to see if any water vapor had condensed in the fuel tanks by probing it with a special nozzle. A splash of the jet grade kerosene fuel escaped its housing and landed on the 107 degree asphalt, instantly evaporating and filling my nose and eyes with its distinctive aroma. It reminded me of both the the excitement of leaving for vacation out of Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, and fear. Fear that it’s real now and I have little to no idea what I’m doing. That quickly left though as I was distracted by the completion of my preflight. I went on with the rest of Dan’s instructions in the same mechanical manner I had done the preflight in. Before I knew it I was starting the engine up and the prop was blaring away in front of me. Dan called the tower. “Sundowner 6015Foxtrot on the West ramp, flying VFR Northeast with A.T.I.S.” The tower replied in a hurried voice, “615Foxtrot taxi via Charlie to runway 8 and hold.” He told me to go. I took my feet of the brakes and increased throttle. I steered with my feet all the way to the end of the runway and pulled into the run-up area. I methodically went through another checklist. Oil pressure, check. Fuel, check. Carburetor temperature, check. RPM 21,000. Ect… “Sundowner 15Foxtrot cleared for takeoff flying northeast.” That was the last thing I heard before I began barreling down the runway. Everything becomes much slower, yet it takes twice as long process any of it. My senses flair. My chest is on fire. My eyes open wide. My arms are weak and indecisive. Sweat drips down my forehead like the dribble of a melting ice cream. Hot leather sticks to the back of my legs, a bastion of warm comfort in a moment of primal terror. One hundred and fifty miles per hour. Lift off. The plane bounced ten feet in every direction throwing my heart and thoughts in to a perilous state of panic. Anything mechanical or methodical left me as I reverted to the boy flying a remote control airplane; all adjustments abrupt and threatening a quick and fiery nosedive. I thought I would be better prepared for this moment. Instead I was thinking “Dan, you sonovabitch, help me out here!!! Television does not do this justice!” I nearly had a hard attack… Unfortunately for my heart, the first words I muttered once on the ground were “I can’t wait to do that again! I feel so alive.”
- On the tarmac after logging my fifteenth flight hour
My name is Charles, but most people call me Charlie. I was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia in the Decatur/Druid Hills area. My mom is from Santa Ana, California and my dad is from Smithville, Missouri. I have an older sister who also attends The University of Georgia and a younger brother who is in high-school. I am majoring in Biological Engineering with a bio-med focus and pre-med intentions. Some of my interests and talents include piano, cello, graphite pencil drawing, piloting small aircraft, speaking Spanish, mixology, automotive design, and cross-country running. I hope my English 1101 Portfolio is thoroughly enjoyed!
One of my favorite supercars, the Ferrari Testarossa in Monaco
reedertheman 