I just finished building my first airplane in 15 years, a Great Planes PT-40. I have been out of the hobby for that long. I kind of backed back into the hobby about 4 months ago. My dad was diagnosed with cancer 2 years ago. Since that time, I have been commuting 300 miles to and from his house every 2 to 3 weeks. In going back home, I got the opportunity to receive some of my "inheritance". My dad had been out of the hobby for about 15 years and still had a few items. He hobbled out to the screen porch and told me that he still had a few items around if I was interested. I was not really, but I did not want to let him down. He handed my a 15 year old Balsa USA Swizzle Stick kit and a Futaba FP/7 Gold Case 7 - channel radio still in the box. I accepted them graciously and wondered how I was going to fit the plane box in my car. I managed to get the kit in sideways in the car with my wife and child and put the radio in the trunk and made the 6 hour trip home.

Upon arriving home, I unpacked the car and put the plane and radio out in my workshop. Then I went about my business. The next weekend, I was visiting a neighborhood garage sale when I saw an OS 40-FP engine in the bottom of a box. I stepped back for a minute and wondered if fate was at hand. Why would I come across this engine now? I have been to hundreds of garage sales without seeing any R/C equipment? I bought the engine for $5 and took it home, cleaned it, put some oil in it to make sure it turned and had compression, and once again, the "bug" hit me like a freight train.

I cleaned off my workbench, set up some drywall on it, covered it with wax paper, and opened the Swizzle Stick box. It was a little old to say the least. The plans were brown on the edges and the instruction manual was one sheet of paper, typed, with no pictures. The feel of unrolling plans for the first time, the smell of balsa wood, all of these brought back memories of sitting down with my dad to build my first Kadet MKII 20 years ago. To give you an idea how long I was away from R/C; I had to look in the phone book to find the nearest hobby shop. I raced over just before closing time and bought some epoxy, CA, and T-pins.

I set about building the Swizzle Stick to do it for myself, but mainly for my dad. My wife started asking me questions like "How much does it cost?" and "Where are you going to fly it?", questions that I knew needed answering but was too involved building to answer. I said that I would find out soon and get back to her. That first night, I was in the shop until 3 A.M. fitting and sanding until it became painfully obvious that the Swizzle Stick was a little too old and I was a little too inexperienced to do the job right. So, I stumbled into the house dejected. I went online to get information in the R/C world and got my second piece of bad news. It turned out the radio I got from my father was not "narrow-banded". My dreams of flying R/C came to a crashing halt. I could not afford a new radio and I was not even sure if the engine even worked. I sulked into the bedroom and went to sleep.

The next morning, Saturday, I was awakened as I always am by my daughter saying "Hi daddy!" I moped into the kitchen and my wife asked me what was wrong. I told her about the plane being old and the radio being no good and how I wished that I could get it built and flying so I could tell my dad before he passed. She was sympathetic about the situation and told me to look into a new airplane and wait for a while on the radio which as all husbands know is a kind way of saying, "we do not have the money right now".

Saturday night rolled around and the baby and her mom were in bed and I went back online to do some surfing. I stumbled quite by accident on a site called RCOnline. I was in heaven. There was so much information. I surfed around the forums for about an hour, then registered and posted a question the next day about my old radio and if there was anything that could be done to make it useful. I was not expecting a quick response and was not expecting a positive response either. Within 15 minutes, a guy posted an answer to my question. He directed me to a website for Radio South. I contacted them and they said they could narrow band my radio for under $30 and a new receiver was $70. I hit the roof, I was so happy. I went to my wife and told her the news, then I called my mom to tell her the news. She had told my dad that the radio and plane were still good to keep his spirits up. He had taken a turn for the worse and was really proud that he helped me get back into the hobby and his stuff was still good. I did not have the heart to tell him that originally the radio and plane were no good, so I felt better that I was actually telling him the truth, about the radio anyway.

I sent that radio off and went in search of an airplane at the local hobby shop. I settled on the PT-40. I originally wanted a Kadet MKII like the first plan my dad and I built but I would have waited for two weeks to get it in the mail and time was getting short. For some strange reason, I needed to get this plane built before my dad died. I paid $120 total for the plane and various components and set about building my new kit.

It is funny how your mind recedes into the past. I kept thinking that I could go inside and ask my dad a question about a certain aspect of the fuselage then I realize that he is bedridden 300 miles away. I cannot count the times I started inside to ask a question. It is also funny how painfully late the things your dad taught you come back to you, like never cut towards yourself with a sharp X-Acto knife or never touch the end of a old soldering iron to see if it has warmed up or be careful with CA or you will glue your fingers to the plane. I have the outline of 4 fingerprints CA'd to my fuselage that I kept there and just covered over them with Monocote. I thought about my dad all the time out there and the smells and feels just brought back so many memories.

I happily went on building my airplane, but things were not the same. My dad was now out of reach and I could not ask him questions over the phone. I was bogged down in the wing assembly and just could not get past a certain point. Things just were not going together as they should. I went through enough balsa to cover a 747 and the wing halves just would not match up. I had taken over half of the dihedral out to make the plane more agile and the plans just did not help me. I called my mom from the workshop to ask her if she could maybe ask dad the question and have him write down the answer and she could read it to me. When she answered the phone, she said he was gone. I set the phone down and cried for the first time in 25 years. I wanted so badly to have my father by my side to help me. More than that, I wanted this plane in the air before he died. It did not happen.

It took me two weeks after the funeral to go back out to my shop. My radio had arrived and so had the new servos, fuel, glowplugs, etc. that I had ordered. I went back out there and broke down for a little bit and then looked up and said, "Here I am, Dad. I know you can see me now. Please help me get these wings together." With a little more work, they went together perfectly. A few weeks later, I was at the local flying field and said, "OK, Dad, you see this plane? It is for you. Enjoy watching it from up there, OK? I love you." With a little help from a buddy, I took off for the first time in 15 years. I knew my dad was watching and for a little while, it seemed like he was still at my side. From this point on, I will know that I will never be alone flying. My Dad will always be there.

Love, Listen to, and Obey your father. He can teach you things no one else can. When he leaves, no one can take his place.