I Flew in a Spitfire!
Yep, this 79-year-old grandma flew in a Spitfire and even took the controls in flight!
Getting ready to take off. Thumbs up!
The British Spitfire is the most famous fighter plane of World War Two. It is a symbol of victory of the Royal Air Force’s defeat of the German Air Force in the summer and autumn of 1940 in the skies over England –– the Battle of Britain.
So, what in the world was I doing flying a Spitfire?
A poster of the RAF Spitfire from World War 2
It all started because flying a Spitfire was at the top of my husband, Bob’s bucket list. His 88th birthday was coming up and that plane had been his very favorite since he had been a little boy in Pittsburgh during World War 2.
Later, whenever we would watch a movie with a Spitfire, he would rave about how beautiful the plane was.
“Isn’t that Spitfire gorgeous, Honey?”
My reply was always, “Yes, dear.”
I really couldn’t see all the finer points of the plane but as long as my husband was happy.
So, with his birthday approaching, we decided to take a trip to Britain so that he could actually fly in a Spitfire. This was going to be his thing and I was going to be very happy watching and waving at him as he flew over. But one night we were watching television and my husband found a brand new documentary about the Spitfire.
Inspiration for a Nation Spitfire on Amazon Prime
I watched it and unbelievably, I got really excited and announced to my husband that I wanted to fly a Spitfire, too. Not only that, but I wanted to fly that Spitifre over the White Cliffs of Dover. An icon of Britain.
This really surprised me because as a little girl, so many things - lock jaw, Kathy Fiscus, boogey men, you name it, scared me. I even wanted the a light on at night in my bedroom and didn’t like sleeping over at friends’ houses.
As I got older I still had anxiety. Maybe not about lock-jaw, but my throat would close up at the idea of traveling away from home. Even as recently as 15 years ago, I was afraid of taking the tram up to Mont Blanc during the summer.
But I look at life differently now. I’ve had enough medical issues at my age to know that I’m not immortal and that I need to grab the day. Carpe Diem. I now keep my hand wide open so that I can grab every adventure that comes my way. And that’s where the Spitfire came in.
Biggin Hill Heritage Hangar, about an hour outside London.
Look at how immaculately they keep the hanger and planes. You could eat off the floor.
So I was feeling pretty confident until that morning at the Biggin Hill Heritage Hangar, a former key Battle of Britain RAF Station . A charming man took me into an equipment room to inform me of the safety rules. He began explaining that I had to wear a parachute and how to bail out of a Spitfire! Are you serious? There is no way I am jumping out of this plane. One of the procedures I learned is when the pilot says JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! you’re actually supposed to JUMP! I was not JUMPIMG! Once I was in that plane I was staying there, no matter how many times I heard JUMP! JUMP! JUMP!
After learning all of the safety instructions. Yikes.
Then, I was introduced to my pilot, a very attractive woman, Anna Luccia Walker. She really looked like a pilot. She had the aviator glasses, the olive-colored jump suit and a very stylish and patterned neck scarf.
There’s my pilot and me getting ready to fly in the Spitfire.
I liked her immediately. She had style, grace and a beautiful Brazilian-English accent. I also found out that she had one of those sumptuous English country gardens with tons of roses. I knew she was the woman I wanted to fly with.
Anna suggested I wear a white scarf. I remember watching old movies where the pilots would wear long white silk scarves. Would you believe that many years ago I bought a white silk italian Fortuny scarf in Venice? I rarely wore it. I was saving it for something. But I packed that scarf, especially for this trip.
Anna making sure I have the pilot scarf look.
The next thing I knew it was showtime. I couldn’t believe that I was going to fly in this plane. I was very excited yet strangely relaxed. In some strange way, it was as if this was something I did every day.
Which foot first?
They told me I had nothing to fear but fear itself. Sure.
Then it was 3,2,1, takeoff.
My husband was in the Spitfire with the white-nose cone and I was in the plane with the red nose cone both flying in formation over the lush countryside and Leeds Castle.
…and then we were on our way to the White Cliffs of Dover.
Once in a lifetime.
Then a big surprise. My pilot, Anna executed a perfect RAF victory roll over the English Channel. That’s a 360-degree turn flying up into the sky! What a hoot. (I was glad I had a very light breakfast.)
How else would you look during a victory roll?
She then asked me to fly the plane by myself. REALLY? “Just keep it level,” she told me. Then she said something I didn’t really understand. I found out later that I missed her directions about looking at the dials in front of me to help keep the plane level. But flying by the seat of my pants, I kept the plane straight as an arrow and even banked to the right and the left.
I was meant to fly!
Anna took over and then showed me what is called a “Pilot’s Glory”. That is when the shadow of your plane is reflected on a cloud and encircled by a rainbow. They say if you see a Pilot’s Glory, you have a guardian angel on your shoulder.
Glory! Glory!
Yes I can!
You’ve come a long way, Baby!
Do you have any unfulfilled dreams?
Is there a part of you that doesn’t face life with your hand wide open?
Can you step outside your comfort zone?
