It’s no secret that pilots of complex and high-end aircraft have been dealing with the trend of higher rates and even non renewed policies, especially older pilots and those with limited experience in type. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you have to sunset your flying career once you reach 70—the point in life where underwriters consider you a “senior” pilot. Moreover, with a savvy approach, some compromises and hard training requirements, insurance can be available for younger and green pilots stepping into tailwheels and turbines.

Plus, insurance pros unanimously say to find an insurer you’re happy with and stick with them for the long term because loyalty matters. At the same time, show the underwriter you’re doing everything possible in the name of safety, and that includes sourcing quality flight training and on a regular basis.

Here’s a general insurance guide, with tips and advice from those who write the policies and pay out the claims.

Old Plane, Older Pilot

Making matters worse is that companies are putting limits on insured value. Just because you have $350,000-plus invested in your refurbished piston single typically valued at $125,000 doesn’t always mean you’ll be able to insure it for its full upgraded value without solid proof it has all the upgrades. These days, with avionics, paint, and engine upgrades, it’s easy to get upside down from an insurance standpoint.

Marci Veronie from Avemco Aviation Insurance said the company writes policies based on what it calls “stated” proof of equipage.

“If you can prove to me you have it in what you want covered, and we can agree, that’s what we’ll write the policy for,” said Veronie, noting that clients send photos, videos, and equipment specs that are cross-checked against the company’s reference guides.

• READ MORE: Aircraft Insurance Market Has Stabilized—Somewhat

Essentially, do your best to prove what you think the aircraft is worth. If you sold the aircraft tomorrow, what would you get for it?

The other issue is maintainability. The parts availability issues for some older airplanes are trickling down to the insurance market, which means you’ll be paying more out of pocket for repairs.

In the insurance world this is called a component parts schedule, which means insurers will only pay out a percent of the loss of a flap or wing or tail section, as some examples. It’s a snag for uncommon experimentals and certified aging aircraft alike.

Scott Smith from Iowa-based Scott “Sky” Smith Insurance said that these days it’s not just the age of the pilot but the age of the aircraft that concerns insurers.  Some companies have stopped insuring Cessna piston twins older than 30 years—a major chunk of the fleet. Others have walked away from turbine conversions.

There are a few underwriters who say claims can sit in limbo for many months because of parts shortages. For others, where it’s impossible to source parts, the aircraft becomes a loss, the insurer pays it out and unloads it to the highest salvage bidder. Part of the reason for rate increases is the increasing cost of replacement parts. Think about that before buying something rare, exotic, or classic.

It has taken a while for the underwriting world to sync up with the huge jump in value of used aircraft, though prices do seem to be stabilizing. Still, while an older Skyhawk might sell for big money, that doesn’t mean an insurer will write a policy with limits that match the value. Good insurers will routinely ask what improvements were made to the aircraft, including the big ones like avionics upgrades. Plan on providing proof of equipage (make sure all equipment is registered with the manufacturer) and keep tight engine logs.

Speaking of engine time, one FAA inspector advises that insurers deny claims if the aircraft’s engine is beyond TBO and the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) report cites engine failure as a probable cause of the crash. We call that nonsense. Engine TBO is not a requirement in Part 91 ops, but instead a suggestion from the manufacturer.

Who Is This Guy?

Part of the problem that’s frustrating for aging pilots is the stereotype. Not all senior pilots are hobbling around with a cane and short of breath, because in general, aviators tend to keep themselves in reasonably decent shape.

Insurance pros agree that for an underwriter sitting at a desk in Big City USA, it is difficult to evaluate an aging pilot’s risk. As one insurer put it: “How do you know if you are writing [for] the 60-year-old 80-year-old, or the 80-year-old 60-year-old?” The companies really don’t because people age at different rates. Some lag behind their chronological age, and some are way ahead of it. Some are fit enough to compete in endurance events, while others can’t walk a mile without falling over.

Some also argue that with age comes more sound aeronautical judgment, and for career aviators, lots of real-world experience. That may be true, but is it canceled out with declining situational awareness and reaction time? The low-hanging fruit is accident history. Almost every company did tell us that they experienced a slightly higher accident rate among the senior pilot customers. As a result, a 77-year-old pilot with two gear-up landings in the last three years, or who ran one tank dry and made an off-field landing with 40 gallons in the other tank, is probably not a good bet when it comes to risk.

• READ MORE: Airplane Insurance Trend Could Be Bad for Us All

Two areas of human thinking that researchers say suffer the most and the soonest from aging are working memory and reaction time. Working memory is defined in different ways, but we use it here to mean the part of transient memory used to temporarily store and manipulate information, such as reading back an approach clearance or running a checklist from memory. Underwriters have relied upon medical certification to give them some reassurance about the physical fitness of their clients and in some cases require additional FAA medical exams because it’s more data that they can put in the pilot’s files. The annual FAA medical including electrocardiogram (EKG) has been a favorite for years.

Another clue that underwriters look at is how much time a pilot has in the same type of airplane in which they are looking to be insured. Some aging pilots can easily tackle the challenge of a different airplane with lots of new features and complex systems, but many cannot. One underwriter said that while his company insures many older pilots, it tends to avoid older pilots who were making transitions, especially large ones—such as from a piston to a turbine. The required learning of new systems may be a challenge—and insurers know it.

What Scares Them?

Insurance underwriters consistently tell us that assessing the risk factor is easy simply because they have years of data, proving that pilots continue to bend aircraft the same way they always have, despite huge leaps in tech with layers of automated backstop.

We concur. Over at sister publication The Aviation Consumer magazine, we’ve been studying monthly NTSB accident reports for more than 50 years and come up with the same stats, again and again. Whether it’s runway loss of control (RLOC), continued VFR into IMC, loss of control in IMC, botched instrument approaches, low/reckless flying—the list is long—crash patterns are predictable, especially for taildraggers.

For prospective tailwheel owners and current owners 70 or older, the hard market means doing some homework before applying for insurance or renewing an existing policy.

Mike Pratt, an aviation insurance broker with Foundation Risk Partners, a large brokerage with offices in 14 states (he’s been a tailwheel owner and pilot for years) had some good advice. According to Pratt, a high number of claims because of careless prangs and the lack of pilot training are what is driving the insurance market for tailwheel airplanes above and beyond the hard market. There are only about a dozen insurance companies that write for aviation and not all will insure tailwheel airplanes, so it’s up to the owner to put their best foot forward when seeking insurance.

What are red flags to underwriters? In the tailwheel world, it’s little airplanes with very high hull values. That means that if you haven’t yet obtained a tailwheel endorsement, don’t buy a brand-new Husky, Scout, Maule, or XCub, to name a few, and expect to get insurance with one simple phone call. If you can get it at all, it could cost at least $15,000 for the first year.

Moreover, get time in the type of airplane you intend to buy—even if it’s only five hours—before you apply for insurance. Putting down a zero in the time type box in the insurance application means that some of the companies will not even look at you. Also, plan on completing as much dual instruction as the insurer requires in your new airplane before you fly it solo. It’s amazing that some owners don’t want to part with a couple thousand dollars for training after spending a couple hundred thousand for the airplane.

Pratt said he sees pilots become cheap about training way too often and believes it’s one of the most foolish things they can do. Truth is insurance companies have had their financial faces rubbed in the value of training for years. They know it keeps claims down. Plus, do you want to deal with having to repair your new bird when quality training might have avoided it altogether?

If you are 70 or older and have been able to get insurance for your tailwheel airplane, don’t rock the boat. Do not change insurers. Don’t get huffy in response to a big premium increase—the odds are that no one else will insure you, and the insurance company that has been loyal to you may drop you. We hear from senior pilots on a regular basis faced with nonrenewals, regardless of their claim histories. The bottom line with taildraggers is get an insurance quote before making a deal on one, while accepting that at some age, if you want insurance, you’ll have to switch to a nosewheel airplane.

Underwriters also look at what kind of airplane their older customer is flying and the amount of liability coverage they carry. Bear in mind that the insurer has in effect promised to pay for the airplane, and the limit of liability, if things go really badly—as it certainly sometimes does. Underwriters treat this as very real money. So, the older pilot in a Cessna 172 insured for $90,000 who carries $1 million of liability coverage limited to $100,000 per passenger causes an underwriter much less concern than the older pilot flying a Piper M600, as one example, worth $4 million and toting liability limits of $5 million.

Last, senior pilots flying retracts and twins seem to be attention-getting for many underwriters, even though the available evidence is confusing and even contradictory. Many of the studies based on accident analysis include only NTSB-reportable occurrences, which are only a fraction of all aircraft insurance claims. And how do we tell whether a gear-up landing is just an “oops’’ or was caused by age-related factors? Plenty of youngsters have committed the $60,000 slide, and plenty of younger pilots do some pretty stupid things.

Training, Currency, Medical Certification

This includes earning a new rating or two, which underwriters see as a good thing. So is the client who goes out for additional recurrent training on their own. Currency can be a good gauge for risk because the pilot who is flying 100 hours a year, getting periodic training and proficiency checks, plus maybe doing an FAA WINGS phase, should look good to an underwriter concerned about that aging pilot keeping his head in the game.

On the other hand, insurers have said that the mere issuance of a medical certificate does not provide the underwriter with much information about either gradual deterioration of a pilot’s skills, nor does it provide much ability to predict sudden medical incapacitation—as rare as it may actually be. So it’s easy to wonder how belt-and-suspender safety backstops (including Garmin’s Emergency Autoland and other autopilot-based equipment) will affect the insurance underwriting landscape. From what we can tell, it helps sell airplanes to aging pilots.

Avemco offers sizable discounts for pilots who go the extra mile in the knowledge- and skill-building department.

Seaplanes, Turbines, Experimentals

Unanimously, insurance pros admit that rates for these aircraft can be extremely high, and some might not be insurable at any cost. Avemco said it can help ease the pain if the floats are taken off and wheels installed during the offseason, if you operate in northern climates. Yes, skis are the same as wheels in the eyes of Avemco and most insurance companies, so they won’t alter the cost.

Got a fresh seaplane rating in your wallet? Resist going out and buying a high-performance model like a Cessna 206 or big-engine Maule on amphibs. Instead, consider something you can insure yourself for any physical damage. Maybe something pretty simple, such as a Luscombe or even a Cub on floats, until you get some time in your logbook.

Building an airplane from a kit? The advice is to stick with ones with large fleet sizes. Almost every underwriter recognizes models from Van’s, Sonex, and Zenith as being good choices. Replacement parts are a big concern for underwriters, and so is complexity, so it might be best to build a fixed-gear airplane (with a tricycle configuration) and avoid rare or one-off kits. Unless you have serious amounts of turbine time in your logbook, an experimental turbine will have your underwriter laughing.

Speaking of turbines, they’re certainly doable, but be realistic. As one underwriter put it, “the owner-flown jet and turboprop market is where all the hand-to-hand fighting is. Liability limits are being cut in half, premiums are doubling, and it’s sort of a failure of the insurance business to get this far behind the curve that we can’t provide the product at a reasonable price.” Another made a good point: “High-performance aircraft, including turbines, may be the big-buck business insurance companies want, but they may not want the pilot that goes along with the policy.”

Stepping into the world of an owner-flown turbine means you’ll need to spend quality time with your insurance broker to find out whether you can get a policy that covers you in the airplane and limits of liability that you need to protect yourself, as well as the conditions and its cost. Accept that your age and experience are the two drivers that determine your insurability when stepping up to turbine machines.

It may be that you will be unable to buy insurance to fly a dream airplane single pilot at any price. We’ll say it right here: If you are over 65, the current market means there’s little likelihood that you can get insurance for a first-time step-up to a turbine.

Wrapping It Up

Who knows when we’ll see another soft insurance market, but for now the best thing anyone—old or young—can do to stay insured for the long haul is simply don’t crash. That could mean piling on extra layers of training, being realistic with yourself on your skill set, and for aging pilots staring down age 70, accepting that downgrading to a simpler aircraft is the simplest way to keep flying. No matter what you fly, show your insurer that you’re serious about training and proficiency with a well-kept training log.

And simply prepare for the payout. By that we mean keeping all of the aircraft’s maintenance paperwork in order, including sign-offs for annual inspections and airworthiness directive (AD) compliance. While insurers will police it before writing a new policy, you don’t want to be scrambling to get the paperwork in order after an accident.

Last, if you’ve been a longtime customer to one company, keep it that way. Now is not the time for aging pilots to jump carriers, because in a hardened insurance market, loyalty matters.

This feature first appeared in the Summer 2024 Ultimate Issue print edition.

The post Ultimate Issue: Staying Insured Encompasses Training, Loyalty, and Downsizing appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

From the Experimental/Amateur-Built category’s emergence in 1947 through the founding of the Experimental Aircraft Association (EAA) in 1953, the classification grew slowly—in part because building on your own meant doing everything: welding, working with fabric, painting, upholstering, wiring, and plumbing. Once you’d found all the raw materials you needed, of course.

It wasn’t until the 1970s that the idea of “kit” airplanes became a serious thing. Frank Christensen is often credited for kick-starting the industry as we know it, providing builders of his Christen Eagle virtually everything they needed to build the airframe. All carefully packaged. All accounted for and tested to work with his airplane. No more cut-and-try, no more scrounging for a set of brakes that might work—or only work with serious modification. For a large part of that project, the parts fit together, turning what had often been a lot of hand fabrication into much more of an assembly process. Then came Burt Rutan and his moldless-fiberglass machines, first the VariEze and then the Long-EZ—to be followed by dozens of similar airplanes that promised greatly reduced build times alongside their impressive performance credentials.

• READ MORE: Ultimate Issue: Are You the One for That First Flight?

By the 1980s, the speed race was on, with Glasair and Lancair battling it out to make the fastest sport airplanes available. They hewed to a simple idea: Put as much horsepower into as small an airframe as you could get away with. Impressive top speeds came, but the real impact was actually behind the scenes. As the designs got faster, they had to become much stronger. Early homebuilts pulled from a rich tapestry of Piper Cub-like airplanes (along with the Cub itself, naturally), where speeds were necessarily low, aerodynamics comparatively forgiving, and the horsepower count was mostly what you could afford.

When the engineering requirements increased for the “average” homebuilt, so did expectations of what the kit would encompass. Early designs anticipated that you’d be able to weld your own fuselage tubes, engine mount, and exhaust system, for example.

From the late 1970s and into the next two decades, builder expectations changed radically. Every new kit was designed to be easier to build, either because the design itself was simpler, or because more of the tedious work had been done at the factory. In time, every flight-critical component would come to be built by professionals, either at the factory proper or by trusted subcontractors. They, as pros, used the right tooling and had the expertise to ensure that the parts were accurately built, typically to a much higher standard than the typical builder could muster.

• READ MORE: Latest CubCrafters Design Looks Back and Ahead

Which brings us to the opening question: Why aren’t there new kit companies popping up left and right, like we had in the latter part of the ’70s and through the ’80s? It’s a simple question with a multipart answer.

Let’s start with builder expectations. For the last three decades, experimental aviation has been in its maturity phase. The best-run and -funded companies chose to incrementally develop their products while working to build better factories. Investment in new tooling technologies, including CNC (computer numerically controlled) machining and, especially, punch-press machines, helped drive almost unseen development. If you look at, say, an early Van’s RV-6 and then consider a recent-build RV-7, you might conclude they’re very similar airplanes.

They’re not. The early RV-6 required a lot more fabrication by the builder and had, by modern standards, fewer semi-finished components. Meaning, the builder was responsible for a great deal of both assembly and alignment because of the need to locate parts relative to one another and drill holes in exactly the right place. Moving on to the current version, which uses something called matched-hole construction, the job gets significantly easier because the parts become self-aligning. Each mating part has the rivet holes placed in such a way that they only go together one way. You’re either way off or right on.

Even with that, though, the earlier versions required the builder to partially assemble large parts of the airplane, drill those locating holes to final size, then disassemble to remove burrs from the drilling process, primer between skins, and commit a few other steps before the parts could be reassembled and then riveted. Today’s technology involves the factory making those holes to final size, meaning that no further drilling operations are required. Assemble the pieces, make sure the surfaces align properly and there are no burrs or defects with the holes, then begin riveting. Removing builder steps helps cut the assembly time and reduces the chances of a mistake. And while it’s true the factory can make mistakes, it’s far more likely any “oops” will come from the builder’s hand.

These time-saving steps cost money for the builder but especially for the company. And they’re really not optional in today’s kit world. Builders expect a high level of completion and that every effort be made to reduce  both build time and the chances for builder error.

I asked this question of a handful of kit companies: Let’s say a tornado came through on a weekend and leveled your plant, what would it take to start again? The answer: between $5 million and $15 million. And that’s assuming you have your design and other intellectual properties already in place. Start the whole effort from zero? Perhaps double, according to my sources.

There’s more keeping this industry in the mature phase than pure economics. In the early days, there was a lot more tolerance for building one-offs and taking risks with startup companies. But those heady days were punctuated by a few marginal companies taking deposits and going under before all the kits or aircraft components were delivered. Some of these companies, trying to elbow their way to the front, found themselves unable to commit the kind of arduous, expensive development process all really good airplanes require. Not that they were dangerous, necessarily, but in many cases the last few clicks of refinement didn’t happen, at least not right away.

As a result, builders became more conservative over time, favoring the established companies that seemed to perform the development work and proved to have the financial grounding to continue producing kit components in a reasonable amount of time. They were also trending toward being followers rather than pioneers, in the sense that choosing a popular make and model gave them a built-in support group at the airport. That’s how the most popular brands became the default choice, making it harder for new entrants to gain a foothold.

• READ MORE: Van’s Aircraft Announces Recovery Plan

Cost is also a factor. Established companies have the advantage of amortizing the cost of the factory, which puts less of a burden on today’s kit prices. In fact, most kits have gone up in price mainly due to increases in the cost of raw materials. And that’s before you look at powerplant and avionics price increases. The kit market has always been price sensitive, so a company that has a stable product line with moderate costs, plenty of happy builders, support groups, and numerous flying examples has an unfair advantage over the newcomers.

But change is coming with the expansion of 3D printing and other new manufacturing techniques. Not that airplanes will, in the near future, be 3D-printed appliances, but that the technology allows for faster prototyping and the possibility of better, more accurate, more easily changeable molds for composite aircraft. (Traditional molds are intensely time consuming to create, which is why companies try to get the most out of them by not changing or updating models any more often than they have to.) And we’re not even considering the possibility of electric aircraft or other powerplant alternatives.

We may look back on this period of homebuilt aircraft as a decades-long time of stability and conventionality, but it’s not for a lack of imagination or wonder. Today’s Experimentals are the product of mature, relatively conservative companies providing the market precisely what it wants.

Tomorrow? Good question.

This feature first appeared in the Summer 2024 Ultimate Issue print edition.

The post Ultimate Issue: It’s Time to Air Out the Kit Question appeared first on FLYING Magazine.

It is a lovely, peaceful spot set on a knoll, but most of the remains—people who went down the Ohio River and settled on the flat ground below in the late 1700s—were reinterred up here above the floodplain. That large, flat area, called the Turkey Bottoms, would become “Sunken Lunken” Airport in the early 1920s.

I’ve heard comments about how many approach and takeoff paths take you right over graveyards, but I never realized how many cemeteries are located on airport properties.

• READ MORE: Perusing Some Old Logbooks

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. The ground between or alongside runways and taxiways is flat and well cared for, and what could be a more appropriate resting place for pilots and aviation aficionados? The thought of resting in a place with airplanes soaring into the sky nearby…hey, that makes sense to me.

But since Lunken (KLUK) hasn’t yet seen things my way, I have a plot in a little and very old cemetery at the base of the Mount Washington neighborhood water tower, sitting on a hill about 4 miles from the airfield.

The airport beacon is mounted on top of the tower, and many a night I’ve navigated home fi nding my way toward that bright light.

Out of curiosity, I “uncovered” information about the incredible number of airports—large and small—where an old cemetery is found on the property. And it’s fascinating how the problem is solved.

A Chicago field, originally called Orchard Airport and the site of the Douglas Aircraft Company, was renamed O’Hare (KORD) in 1949, and in 1952, graves in Wilmer’s Old Settler Cemetery—0.384 acres on O’Hare Airport property—were removed by court order because they were in the path of a proposed new runway. Reportedly, 37 whites and an unknown number of Native Americans interned there were reburied in three nearby cemeteries.

Just how long a grave can be “reserved” for sole use by the original inhabitant seems to depend on state and local practices. It’s common for cemeteries to rent plots, allowing people to lease a space for up to 100 years before the grave is allowed to be recycled and reused.

In Ohio, it’s 75 years, but I could find no universal law here. It seems that much depends on the preference of surviving—if any—family members. Sometimes a court order is required.

Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport (KATL) consistently wins the title of the world’s busiest airport and it continues to grow, engulfing more and more small communities. When a fifth runway was added in 2006, it vastly increased the number of possible operations, but it also enveloped two century-old cemeteries.

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Authorities decided that these two small family and church burial grounds, Hart and Flat Rock cemeteries, would simply be incorporated into the airport’s master plan. Despite being located between runways with takeoffs about every 30 seconds, they are still publicly accessible via a dedicated access road with signs showing the locations.

Probably the most famous—and curious—on-airport remains can be found at Savannah/Hilton Head International Airport (KSAV).

Members of the Dodson family, Daniel Hueston and John Dotson, are buried alongside Runway 10, while Richard and Catherine Dodson’s graves are actually embedded beneath that runway. If you look really hard out of an airplane window, you can see the markers.

On quiet Saturday mornings, local pilots have been known to ask ground controllers for the “Graveyard Tour.” If cleared, this allows one to taxi out to the Dotson grave markers on Runway 10/28 so passengers can snap a picture before taking off.

Everything is haunted in Savannah and ghost tours are big business, but thus far, no one has figured out how to monetize the graveyard tour at the airport. Perhaps the two flight schools on the field could start incorporating a ghost tour into their sightseeing flights.

When Smith Reynolds Airport (KINT) in Winston- Salem, North Carolina, acquired property in 1944 to extend a runway, about 700 graves in the private African American Evergreen Cemetery were relocated to a new location. But it seems some marked graves remain in a wooded area within the airport complex.

• READ MORE: The Man Who Saved the Iconic Hartzell Propeller Company

If you watch carefully while driving on Springhill Road south of Tallahassee International Airport (KTLH) in Florida, you’ll see a break in the security fence. Pull in there and drive between the fences with signs proclaiming it is a restricted area, and you’ll come upon gravestones of a cemetery around which the airport runways were built. It’s known as Airport Cemetery and was originally a pauper’s graveyard. About 15 graves are designated with stones, but it appears there are about 20 other sunken depressions marking graves.

I’m betting you know many others, but I found one at Burlington International Airport (KBTV) in Vermont, where the graveyard is surrounded on three sides by the facility. And there’s Florida’s Flagler Executive Airport (KFIN), North Carolina’s Raleigh-Durham International

Airport (KRDU), New York’s Albany International Airport (KALB), and Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley Regional Airport (KSHD), where Revolutionary War veteran Mathias Kersh and his wife, Anna Margaret, rest—all sites of small family plots. The behemoth Amazon recently added 210 acres as part of its air cargo hub at Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport (KCVG) and is seeking permission to move 20 graves from the land it owns there.

No discussion of final resting places and cemeteries would be complete without a mention of a glorious shrine to aviation built a quarter mile off the end of Runway 15 at California’s Hollywood Burbank Airport (KBUR), formerly known as Bob Hope Airport. It’s called the “Portal of the Folded Wings.” The 78-foot-tall structure was designed by a San Francisco architect and built in 1924, intending it to be the entrance to a cemetery called Valhalla Memorial Park.

With its location so close to Burbank Airport—then called Union Airport—and the site of the Lockheed Company, aviation enthusiast James Gillette wanted to dedicate it as a shrine or memorial to early aviators. It took Gillette nearly 20 years, but it was finally dedicated as the final resting place of pilots, mechanics, and aviation pioneers in 1953. In addition to the ashes of those actually interred inside the portal, a number of brass plaques honor famous aviators resting elsewhere, such as General Billy Mitchell and Amelia Earhart.

Familiar aviation pioneers whose ashes are found inside include Bert Acosta (Admiral Richard Byrd’s copilot); Jimmie Angel, whose remains were removed and scattered over Angel Falls in Venezuela, where he crashed flying a Cincinnati-built Flamingo; W.B. Kinner, builder of the first certified aircraft engine as well as Earhart’s first airplane; and Charlie Taylor, who built the engine for the Wright Flyer and operated the first airport on Huffman Prairie in Dayton, Ohio. You can visit the site in Valhalla Memorial Park in North Hollywood, California.

But I can’t write a story about aviators who legally rest on airport properties without mentioning who knows how many ashes that have been surreptitiously scattered from airplanes flying over the deceased’s beloved home airport.

This column first appeared in the Summer 2024 Ultimate Issue print edition.

The post Ultimate Issue: The Connection Between Airports and God’s Acres appeared first on FLYING Magazine.