Of flesh, fabric, birch and bone...

What are our lives if not a collection of moments? 

They are fleeting seconds built one on top of the other, interlocking bricks in a wall held together by the mortar of experience, feeling, relationship, success, failure, birth and death.  The result can be measured in terms of days, months and years.  They begin at a precise moment and end at a particular point in time.  And yet, all this is a massive and mind-numbing contradiction.  Life has finite book ends while the experience that lies between is both infinite and immense.

To pick just one moment is a challenge that chills one soul.  This story has one such moment.

June 11th, 1981.  3:00 pm.

The pilot only feels the air's whisper against his brow for it has been drowned, overwhelmed by the whine of the 85 horsepower Continental labouring only inches behind the spartan instrumentation. 

His right hand resting on the throttle, the left hand moves forward and the tail obeys, lifting the tailwheel off the grass at Collingwood, Ontario. 

Now, through the cabanes and down the button nose, the pilot sees the end of the field first inch, then gallop towards him.  His feet, at first nervously twitching, have grown calm and confident - buoyed by speed and stability.  Muscle memory dictates that the right hand must now move aft and then, once the rush of speed has subsided, the pilot should lower the tail and be ready on the rudder pedals.

This moment, however, was born differently than his brethren before.  Hidden in the wind's whisper is a shout, a scream that cuts through the mechanical moan of the engine and the concentration of the airman.

"Let's go."

The wheels leave the ground. The sanctuary of the cockpit is wrapped in secrecy. The next forty minutes are for plane and pilot alone.  Solitude isn't for everyone but it does have certain benefits.

My dad's first ever flight in C-FFAM was something of an accident.  He began the day by practising taxiing the biplane up and down Collingwood's grass strip - first at low speed with the tail down then at higher speed running on the main wheels alone.  On one such run, he decided to leave the ground in his new mount.

Notes from June 11th and 12th, 1980 - my dad's first 4 flights in FAM.  He scrawled them on the back of a message notice before entering them into his personal logbook and the aircraft's journey log.  I found this tucked into the moleskin jacket of his logbook 32 years later.  (Family Collection)

The page from my dad's logbook detailing his first flights in the Miniplane and the four flights he did in Aeronca Champ 7AC CF-MTG.  He erroneously called it a Scout and then used the registration CF-WEA - which was actually applied to a 172 on floats that he was flying at Orillia during this time.  (Family Collection)



The next day, emboldened by his first solo in FAM, he spent the whole day, three-and-a-half hours, doing circuits in the biplane. 

It is easy to see his enthusiasm even in the logbook entries.  Flying was an escape and, as a bachelor with few obligations outside his work, he had ample time and will to dive in. 

Three decades after these flights, Lee Heitman, his aerobatic flight instructor at Collingwood, remembered my dad as a natural pilot who loved flying as much as he loved life.

Dad with C-FFAM at Rockcliffe in the fall of 1982. (Family Collection)

In 1981, the company that employed my Dad won the contract to build the Westin Hotel in downtown Ottawa.  Given the success of the Harbour Square project, the general contractor asked that my father be sent to Ottawa as project manager for the build.  On weekends, he would return to Collingwood to fly the Miniplane...and then make the 5 hour drive back to the capital, a bucket of KFC on the seat next to him.

Such was his love of aviation and kinship with his airplane. 

Encounters

Charles Miller made his last flight in C-FFAM on September 18th of 1980.  In the aircraft's journey log, he dutifully recorded that the biplane flew true to its type.  Then, he hangared it for the winter.



Dad working on Toronto's 33 Harbour Square in 1979 or 1980.  The Royal York Hotel can be seen in the background. (Family Collection)

My father had rapidly turned aviation into an obsession.  Flying - and his work - became twin passions that fed off one another.  The testosterone-fueled, expletive-laced, grime, dust and grit-choked concrete landscape of a construction site contrasted in every way with the hour-long vacation afforded one by a romp through pristine powder white clouds and cobalt skies.  So, while he continued to fly out of Collingwood, my dad made a habit of dropping into local airports "just for the hell of it."

Just three of dozens of membership cards accumulated during three decades of flying.  (Family Collection)

One of these airfields would have been Brampton - where FAM was based under Miller's ownership. 

A biplane pilot will tell you there's just something special about having two wings.  They'll also tell you a biplane glides about as well as a grand piano...and that it will happily humble a pilot with lazy feet.  Yet, there's something else...and in a single-seat biplane, it's a secret shared only between airplane and aviator.

By the summer of 1980, Dad had made up his mind that he was going to buy Miller's biplane.  While he had some tailwheel experience, he had never flown a biplane.  To complicate matters, FAM's short couple and rigid gear made it somewhat challenging to handle during take off and landing.

On July 19th of 1980, in the middle of working on his float rating, Dad called on Canadian Aerobatic Champion and Pitts Special expert Gerry Younger.  They did two flights in Pitts S2-A C-GQSI.  The goal was to work on take offs and landings but they couldn't resist having a little fun either.

It was a story my dad loved to tell.

"Show me a steep turn," Gerry had asked.

My dad happily rolled to 60 degrees of bank and swept into a left-hand steep turn. 

After a few seconds, Gerry called from the back seat.

"I have control." 

The wings rolled to 90 degrees of bank and both men were pressed into their seats.

"Look at the left wingtip," said Gerry. 

The wing was pinned to a set of crossing roads cutting through the countryside below.  The landscape rotated smoothly, like a pin-wheel, around QSI's red wingtips.

"That's a steep turn."

The experience with Younger emboldened my father.  His next call would be to Ernst Muller.

Gerry Younger's business card - found among my dad's things.  Ernst Muller's address and phone number was written on the back.  (Family Collection)
 

After some prodding, Muller remembered the conversation almost 32 years before.  He recalled that my dad told him he had spent time with Gerry Younger to get ready for the Miniplane.  He asked Muller several questions about the airplane and then asked him to fly it to Collingwood.  Muller told me he politely declined because he was concerned about liability issues. 

The undated Aircraft Bill of Sale for C-FFAM.  It transferred ownership from Miller to my dad.  (Family Collection)

 

In April of 1981, my father purchased C-FFAM from Charles Miller for $8,000. Collingwood's chief pilot, Ken Richardson, flew the Miniplane from Brampton to Collingwood on April 16th, 1981. An Aviation Mechanic inspected it the same day.

FAM would sit idle at Collingwood for nearly 2 months.  My Dad spent the time tinkering with his new toy. My dad had changed the throttle from the left side to the right and installed a different tailwheel assembly to improve visibility over the nose.  Years later, I would find a letter detailing a step-by-step process to repair, dope and paint fabric.  All of these minor tweaks must have driven him batty.  I know he wanted to fly it more than anything else.  His training, however, dictated a cautious approach.

So, plane and pilot waited patiently for the right moment.

Bloodlines

Nestled on the shores of Georgian Bay's southern point, is the town of Collingwood.  It was founded in 1858 - well before the birth of this nation - and named for Admiral Lord Cuthbert Collingwood, the naval commander who took charge of the British fleet at Trafalgar after Lord Nelson fell.  Built on the shores of the Great Lakes system and linked to Canada's commercial centres by railroad, it rapidly became an important port and shipbuilding town.  From Collingwood, commerce could reach other southern ports like Port Arthur-Fort William (Thunder Bay) and Chicago.  In 1901, Huronic, Canada's first steel-hulled vessel, was launched at Collingwood - heralding an industry that would endure for more than eight decades.  In the years that followed, Collingwood Shipyards churned out Lakers and Corvettes for service in the Second World War with the Royal Canadian Navy.

In the fall of 1975, my father made the drive north from Toronto, pulled into the parking lot at Collingwood Airport and walked into the offices of Collingwood Aviation Academy.

In the mid-70s, "Collingwood Air" was a thriving flight school that went out of its way to provide a home for hobby pilots and fledgling professional aviators alike.  The school ran a varied fleet of nearly brand new Piper Cherokees for basic to advanced training, a Cessna 150 Aerobat and Bellanca Decathlon for aerobatic and upset training and also had access to a variety of aircraft for specialised work.  The airport was isolated enough to provide ample airspace for training with very little transit time...yet close enough to the busiest airspace in Canada. There were trailers available for rent if a student wished to stay the night and the main building was equipped with a shower and small kitchen.  My dad quickly set himself up and began his commercial pilot training under Chief Flight Instructor Ken Richardson and a group of dedicated instructors.



PA-28-140 C-FUYL now based in Indian River, On and owned by Charles Brown.  This was one of the first Canadian registered aircraft my dad flew at Collingwood.  In this aircraft, he and Ken Richardson made a cross country flight from Collingwood to Goderich to Waterloo and back on October 16th, 1975. (Photo Courtesy: International Cherokee Pilots Directory)

PA-28-140 C-GNEG - the aircraft my dad flew when he passed his license conversion flight test on October 27th, 1975.  J. Worts was the pilot-in-command. (Photo Courtesy: Apex Used Aircraft Sales)

My dad's view that day. (Photo Courtesy: Apex Used Aircraft Sales)

Since he was so familiar with the Cherokee, his license conversion and training went well and it wasn't long before he was looking for some specialised experience.  The RF-5 had shown him that flying was not limited to straight and level, point "A" to point "B" fixed altitude plodding.  Beagle Pups and Chipmunks hammered the point home. Flying could be as pure and passionate as a Shakespearean sonnet or as graceful, light and melodic as a skilled pianist tickling the ivory keys.  And so, inevitably, in the spring of '76, he found Bellanca Decathlon CF-ZUR and convinced Ken Richardson to go for a spin - quite literally. They likely added a few hammerheads, some Cuban 8 work and an avalanche or two for good measure.

Bellanca Decathlon N329J (formerly CF-ZUR) pictured for sale at Lakeland-Linder Regional in Florida on April 18th, 2010 - 34 years and 2 days after the Richardson-Rotondo dual flight out of Collingwood. (Photo Courtesy: Ray Barber)

About 3 weeks later, my dad somehow charmed his way into the pilot's seat of Chipmunk CF-CYM at the now defunct King City Airport in Vaughn.  He no doubt told the owner - likely a Mr. Edmund Baklarz of Brampton - that he had flown "Chippies" in Africa under the tutelage of a former RAF instructor and aerobatic guru.  He very likely launched into how it spun so sweetly in one direction...while bucking and snapping so violently in the other.  At any rate, he took her up solo for nearly 2 hours...and no doubt had his way with Mr. Baklarz's toy.

Chipmunk N280RD (formerly CF-CYM) captured at Tulsa, OK in November 2006.  (Photo Courtesy: Danny Fitsche)

At 6:30 on August 24th, 1976, dad took off from Maple Airport in Piper Cherokee C-GPBW with Department of Transport Examiner D. Delap in the right seat.  When they landed two hours later, Tony Rotondo was issued license number YZC-164741 and became Canada's newest commercial pilot.

Commercial Pilot License YZC-164741. (Photo Courtesy: Family Collection)

A bill for the rental of PBW for August 1976 showing 2 hours dual and .8 ground briefing.  It cost a grand total of $47.20.  I believe this is the bill for his commercial flight test. It was found crammed into the sleeve of his logbook. Saving all manner of receipts was an unfortunate habit we shared. (Family Collection)

Piper Cherokee C-GPBW, built in 1974 and my dad's commercial flight test mount, pictured here at the St-Lazare Fly-in in 2007.  It is based at Lachute and still registered.

30 years later, almost to the day, his son would follow in Grob G115C C-FYMP.




Pre-flighting Grob G115C C-FYMP at Ottawa soon after completing my commercial pilot training. (Photo Courtesy: Megan Harrison)

Royal Canadian Air Cadet Flight Sergeant Michael Rotondo with Piper Tomahawk C-GTZY at Windsor. (Photo courtesy: Michael Rotondo)



36 years after that August evening, once again, almost to the day, his youngest nephew would win his wings in Piper Tomahawk C-GTZY.