A boy and his father

After the war was finally over and my dad was discharged from the Navy, he took up flying lessons at the old Kansas City, MO airport. Of course I would always tag along when he would take his training at a place called Toth Aviation. I would sit in the car to wait and watch all the airplanes taxiing in and out from the ramp. They used an aircraft called a Porterfield. It was a single engine 65hp, tail dragger, tandem cockpit and was covered with fabric. One thing that struck me that was unusual, was they would stand the airplanes on their nose and stack them in the hanger like dominos.

When my dad finally finished his training and got his Private License, he took me and my sister for our first airplane ride. I was hooked from that day on. I couldn't wait for the next time we would head for the airport. As time went on, my dad would have me follow him through. Put my hand on the stick and feet on the rudder pedals. I was in seventh heaven. My dad was a pilot!