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In Flight USA Articles
Mentor In a Poopy Suit
By Bert Botta
The USS Randolph (CVS-15) underway on February 27, 1962. (USN Photo)In June of 1957, with the ink still wet on my high school diploma, the U.S. Navy shipped me off to my first duty station, Barin Field, Alabama.
As part of the agreement I made with the Navy as a reserve sailor, I committed to serve two years active duty immediately upon graduation from high school.
One year later, after serving my time at “Bloody Barin” as it was known throughout the Pensacola Training Command because of the frequent aircraft accidents among cadet pilot trainees, I received orders to report to Antisubmarine Squadron VS39 in Quonset Point, Rhode Island.
After arriving at Quonset, I spent a few months finding my niche in the squadron and preparing for my first deployment to the north Atlantic with VS39 aboard the U.S.S. Randolph, an aircraft carrier based out of Norfolk, Virginia.
An Old, Bold Air Carrier ROP (Retired, Old Pilot) Discovers the Meaning of Life at a Fractional
By Bert Botta
Bert Botta in the cockpit. I should have known better, thinking I was through flying and bolting into retirement seven years before the clock struck 60, leaving my air carrier home of 26 years.
The bailout from my airline was more reaction to the morose conditions created there by a corporate raider than logic. But it was also part of my quest to satisfy some silly, primeval longing for a deeper spiritual life in a world that continues to threaten the theft of an aviator’s soul.
My “retire now” knee-jerk reaction should have triggered a fail flag in my brain, to move slowly, consider my options. Just like a bad sim ride, everything I’ve done in a hurry I’ve screwed up.