Blame It On My Youth

Mommy Takes Flight

Right after my confirmation in the late spring of ’69, Mommy had a new obsession. She wanted to fly. The latest craze were these single person flying devices, which looked like huge eggbeaters. Sadly, her stout frame could never fit into one of them. It would have looked like she was wearing it instead of flying it.

But Mommy still desperately wanted to buy one. So instead of giving up her dream, she decided on a different approach to appease her new passion for flying. She had scheduled a few helicopter rides for the three of us. Debi was not too excited about the prospects of being cooped up in a small helicopter with Mommy, but I had to admit the thrill of flying was definitely growing on me. As we drove back home after the second ride, all she could talk about was flying.

“I’ve decided to take flying lessons. What do you think about that, girls?”

Debi didn’t respond, but I said, “Wow. How amazing. Do you really think you can fly a plane?”

“Kimmie. I could do anything. I certainly can and will learn to fly a plane.” She pulled into our driveway, lumbered out of the car, then waved me into the house. “I think it’s time for us to have one of our chats.”

Debi rushed off. Lucky her. I wasn’t as fortunate.

“Well, let’s you and I go into the den, right now,” she said to me.

I followed Mommy inside and sat on the Naugahyde couch. I was a bit nervous and braced myself for what she was going to say. It was always the same speech.

“Kimmie. It’s high time you learn about survival as a modern woman. You must look after yourself. Never count on any man. Heaven knows they’ve always let me down. Self-sufficiency is the key.”

“Mommy, I know.”

She sat down next to me and patted my knee.

“Well, as I’ve always said, you must educate yourself. It’s time you chose a career that will give you stability, health benefits, and a pension. You could be anything you want. A lawyer, doctor, even a pilot. Anything is possible.”

“Me, a lawyer or doctor…really?”

“Of course, you. An education can give you the world. Women weren’t born just to take care of a house, kids, and a husband. You know I’m proof of that. I want so much for you and your sister. I work at the salon, sell merchandise, and do hair for private clients, but that doesn’t guarantee me security.”

“But you have Vincenzo—doesn’t he take care of that?”

“Vincenzo works for the city and makes a meager salary. He also has to support his other family. That leaves practically nothing for us. He is trying to work his way into a full-time position at the Daily News as a driver. With him being in a union, his benefits will be great. But as of yet, he only manages to get some deliveries on the weekends.

“We must always think ahead, Kimmie…that’s why I want my pilot’s license, and I may take Vincenzo to get his license, too. Who knows where that could lead us? Maybe our own private airline in Puerto Rico. How exciting would that be? Harry, the manager and owner of Flushing Airport is going to set it all up for us. I just can’t wait to get behind the steering wheel or whatever they call it…”

She pinned me with an intense stare. “Now, Kimmie. Any thoughts on what you’d like to do with your life?”

“I love swimming…and sports. An athlete perhaps, or maybe a gym teacher?”

“A teacher is a good choice. Excellent benefits, and you’ll have a pension, too. Not to mention summers off. And, if you do get married…it’s a wonderful second income.”

“I’d like to get married someday, so a gym teacher may be good.”

“You don’t have to decide right this minute, but I want you to keep your mind open. Literally… the sky’s the limit.”

I did think about what she had said often. That was the smartest piece of advice my mother ever gave me. Through teaching, I was able to raise my daughter single-handedly without the help of a man or even her.

Looking back, my mother certainly was a forerunner for the women’s movement that took place in the ’70s. She truly was a pioneer for her time. In so many ways…more than I care to remember.

The following week, Mommy picked me up from school. We headed out to Flushing airport. As we drove onto the grounds, many small aircrafts lined up side by side. The air strip was clear now, but as I looked up, the Good Year blimp floated overhead. We had just missed it take off. What a bummer. I would have liked to have seen that.

After parking, we dashed into the office. A broad smile crossed the face of a silver haired man sitting at a beat-up metal desk.

“Kay! Good to see you. Are you ready for your first flying lesson?”

“You bet! I even deflated my hair a bit, so I’ll fit better in the cockpit.”

His hearty laugh boomed through the office.

“And who’s this?”

“Kimmie…say hello to Harry.”

“Hi, Harry. Are you going to give Mommy her lesson?”

“No, Kiddo. I have to manage a few flights down here, but I lined up a real pro for her. He may be young, but he’s been flying in and out of here for the past three or four years now.

“And speaking of that flyboy, here he comes now.”

A tall, very skinny, dark-haired guy strolled into the office. He carried a clipboard and scribbled down a few notes before he noticed us.

“Hey, Michael. Your three-thirty student is here.”

He raised his head. “I see,” he said, smiling through his overly large front teeth. The door slammed as another person entered the room. His glossy, brown hair and piercing blue eyes were easily recognizable to me.

I gasped. “J-Jackie K! Mommy—it’s Jackie K!”

“Who?”

“Only the greatest pop singer in the world. His song is one of my new favs—I play that 45 all the time,” I blurted out, nearly fainting. “Mr. K, may I please have an—autograph?” I held my breath.

“Is that the song that’s been driving me crazy for weeks?”

He laughed, and flashed a killer white smile, and then glanced down at me. “It would be a pleasure,” he said in an oh-so-smooth southern accent. “What would you like me to sign?”

I was tongue-tied and could not stop staring. Right here in front of me was one of my absolute favorite pop singers. Then I felt pain rip through my upper arm. Mommy pinched me.

“Kimmie…really. Give Mr. K something to sign.”

“Please. Call me Jackie.”

The scowl on my mother’s face melted like ice cream in the hot sun. She reached into my school bag and pulled out the first thing she could find: my social studies book covered with an old, brown paper grocery bag. She handed it to him along with a Bic ball point pen.

“Here you are—Jackie.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Kay. Please.”

“Certainly. Thank you, Kay. So, let’s see.” He began to scribble. “To my new friend, Kimmie… who makes my head spin… Yours, Jackie K.”

My face burned so hot; I knew I was redder than a lobster. He handed me my book, bent down, and kissed me on the cheek.

I stroked my face. “I’ll never wash this cheek again.”

“Really Kimmie. What’s gotten into you?” Mommy snapped. So sorry, Jackie.”

He flashed his dazzling smile again. “Not to worry, Kay. See you both next week.” He patted Michael on the shoulder. “Thanks for the lesson, Michael. You’re the best.”

“My pleasure, Jackie.”

A moment later, he was gone. “Imagine, Jackie K, kissing me. And I get to see him again next week,” I whispered.

“Not if you act like some common groupie, you won’t. Snap out of it. I raised you better than that.”

“It’s just a crush,” Michael said. “Your daughter doesn’t look like that type of teen. She’s no hippie.” Michael’s face tensed the moment he saw my mother’s angered expression. “I hate to break this to you, Kimmie, but he’s married and has an eight-year-old daughter,” he said in a gentle voice.

“He is…he does?” I felt like all the air was sucked out of my body.

Michael nodded. “I’m afraid so.” The toothy smile returned to his face. “Are you ready, Kay?”

Mommy straightened up to her full height. “Are you sure you’re qualified to teach me?”

I knew she was not too pleased with his stepping into the conversation. No one corrected her, especially a younger man.

Michael took it in stride. He looked straight into her eyes. “You heard, Jackie K, Kay…I’m the best.”

She glanced at Harry.

He nodded.

“Very well. Let’s do it.”

He held out his arm. “Allow me to escort you out to the plane.”

I was flabbergasted. She took his arm and smiled. As she exited the office she said, “Kimmie, behave yourself with Harry. I’ll be back soon.”

I remained quiet and sat down across from Harry. It took me a few minutes to process my elation with meeting Jackie, and my major let down of him being married.

There goes inviting him to my eighth-grade prom.

He certainly did not look old enough to have an eight-year-old daughter, that’s for sure. I guess he got married young, like Mommy.

“Would you like a soda, Kimmie?”

I jerked, forgetting I was still in Harry’s office. “Yes. Please.”

He went into the other room, popped the cap off the bottle of coke and handed it to me.

“Thanks. How long will the lesson be?”

“About an hour. Michael will start by explaining all the controls of the plane. That takes up the first part of the lesson. Then once they take flight about another thirty minutes. After this flight, she will have more flight time.”

“I like Michael. He certainly charmed my mother.”

Harry barked out another booming laugh. “He sure did. Good training for his bedside manner. He’ll need that after he finishes medical school at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine.”

“Michael’s going to be a doctor. Wow. I thought he was a pilot for some big airline and taught in his spare time.”

“Michael loves flying. He also really enjoys instructing, but his heart is into being a doctor. Oh look, Kimmie, there they go.”

I watched the small plane slowly climbing up into the sky. In a few moments it looked like a bird in flight. I hoped Mommy was not giving Michael to hard a time. She always thought she knew more about everything than everyone else. Even the experts. I was still mulling over the idea of Michael being a doctor. He really did not fit the build. All the doctors I saw were old, graying, and fat. My doctor always had a cigarette dangling out of his mouth every time I entered his office.

“How much longer until Michael graduates’ medical school?”

“I think he has another…” At that moment, the phone rang. “Hello. Flushing Airport. What? I’ll get right on it, Ma’am.” Harry immediately picked up the mic sitting on his desk. “Breaker, breaker, this is home base. Come in, Michael.”

“Michael here. What is it Harry?”

“I just got a complaint by a woman in a high rise. Tell Kay to lift that plane up. She was frantic thinking the plane was aiming right for her.”

Michael laughed. “Roger, Harry…Kay, you heard home base… pull back on the controls and take it up.”

Mommy’s voice cracked. “Right away home base. I don’t want to crash into anyone’s living room.”

Harry smiled and looked at me. “Your mom sounds like she’s having a blast.”

It sounded to me like she was panicking…but Mommy always had every situation under control.

“They should be landing within the next few minutes, Kimmie.” He pointed out the window. “You should be able to see the whole landing if you look right here.”

“Great. Thanks.”

A moment later, I saw a small dot. It grew larger and larger. I could just make out the wings, then I watched its decent.

The plane wings tilted from side-to-side.

“Looks like your mom’s having a bit of trouble leveling out the plane. Don’t worry. Michael will take over just about now…”

The plane leveled and landed five minutes later.

Once Mommy’s lessons were complete and she received her pilot’s license, she said goodbye to Harry and Michael. Little did she know that three decades later she would be seen by Dr. Michael Stone, MD. He would become one of the top cardiologists in the country and be affiliated with a Hospital in NYC. He became her cardiac physician and is still mine to this day. Although Michael’s hair is all silver and is close to retiring, he keeps smiling that toothy grin. Some things never change.