The Parable of the Pilot

About 32 years ago when Barbara and I got married, he had about 20,000 hours in the air. Dad Faux was a pilot. Not just any pilot, he had flown more planes of more types than I can name, after all, 20,000 hours in the air is like ten years of regular 40 hour work weeks. He had been to Hawaii 55 times. He had flown bombing and fighting missions over Germany and France during World Ward II, had flown cargo and transport missions to Viet Nam, and hundreds of missions both secret and support in between. Last night at the viewing a few of Dad's flying friends told me that on one occasion Dad was flying a mission over Germany in WWII when 5 Messerschmidt's intercepted him. Because the P61 Black Widow night fighter was much more maneuverable and because he was a superior pilot, he was able to make a really tight turn and come back around on the Messerschmidts. He was able to shoot one down, do a quick dive and recovery and come up again under one forcing it into another nearby plane, thus taking out 3 of the 5 before heading for home. They (Bruce Despain) said that he was the best commander, a great pilot and even better person and friend.

He was not only a VFR (visual flight rules) rated pilot, but also an IFR (instrument flight rules) rated pilot. That means that he was trained to be able to fly safely avoiding other aircraft, mountains or obstacles or fly over the ocean where there are no landmarks and everything looks the same as far as the eye can see, using solely the instrument panel and radio guidance. Cruising in clouds or at night at altitudes over 30,000 feet and at speeds over 500 miles per hour he knew where he was going and how to get there safely.

Yes indeed, Dad Faux was a pilot. He would prepare and file his flight plan before taking off, taking all the necessary precautions to make his flight successful. Now flying is quite an interesting phenomenon. From the moment that the plane leaves the ground it is off course. Once airborne the pilot makes the necessary corrections and adjustments to get back on course. As he gains altitude, the winds change and again the plane is blown off course–sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. By consulting his instruments, checking his maps and monitoring his radio signal again the pilot makes the necessary corrections to get back on course. When the plane is encompassed in a cloud it is impossible for the pilot to see where he is going. During those times he must rely entirely on the instruments along with the signals emitted from the radio beacons strategically placed along the route to help with navigation. At night and in bad weather, with his radio to prompt him, he constantly adjusts and corrects to keep the plane on course. It is quite amazing that 99% of the time the plane is off course, but as long as the pilot makes the needed course corrections 100% of the time the plane makes it to the final destination.

You don't usually hear a lot from the pilot. He may welcome you aboard and give some basic instructions, maybe even point out a few interesting sights, but mostly he just quietly flies the plane. He tries to choose a route that will be least dangerous. One that won't bounce around so much as to make you air sick or spill your orange juice. He tries to make it a smooth flight.

Dad Faux has made his final earthly flight. It has been in character with his entire life. He knew his desired destination. He filed his flight plan long ago. He made the necessary course corrections by consulting with Mom, his ace co-pilot, using his maps and listening to those inspired signals. There was never any doubt if he was headed in the right direction. And what is more, he was helping all of us aboard to get our bearings right. He showed us how to use the maps and to listen for the signals. We will miss him–his strong, silent, keen sense of direction. We hope that we can remember what he taught us to make the corrections for ourselves now that he has let us fly on our own.

Our lives have been richer and our view more expansive because of you Dad and we will always remember and be grateful for all you have done for us. Among a myriad of other wonderful things, you taught us the "Parable of the Pilot" by the way you lived. Thank you. We love you.