As I was driving home from the airport last week I thought "I should get back in touch with Greg. It's been too long since we talked." Greg was one of my last students before I was hired to fly turboprops, and he had gone on to own several airplanes, become a hell of a pilot and we had stayed in touch. We had drifted apart recently because of a stupid disagreement over politics, and it was time I got over it.
When I got home the first email I saw was from him but with his name in the Subject line. I thought "That's odd...." then I thought "Oh shit." It was from his wife Ann. Greg had gone down a few days before, cause unknown.
When I got home the first email I saw was from him but with his name in the Subject line. I thought "That's odd...." then I thought "Oh shit." It was from his wife Ann. Greg had gone down a few days before, cause unknown.
The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be? — it is the same the angels breathe.
— Mark Twain, ‘Roughing It'
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