Gone West

My father A Jay Cristol passed early on October 21, 2024 at the age of 95.  In addition to being a husband, father, grandfather, judge, retired USNR Captain, bullfighter, water skier, world traveler, all around good guy, he was a pilot. 

He started flying at the age of 15 in a Piper J-3 cub on floats in Biscayne Bay. His lessons ended when his mother found out. He would begin again as a cadet and earn his Navy wings.  He went on to fly off carriers in the Korean War zone.  As a Navy reservist he flew transports to Vietnam.  Though his career turned to the law he had a short stint as a copilot for Eastern airlines. 

His wife, my mom, was not a fan of light aircraft and for a while he was less active but after I became a pilot, he dusted off his certificate and began flying again.  I had learned from his mistake and waited until I had my certificate to inform my mother.

We got to share some great aviation adventures.  When he was 70 we went to California to check out in a Martin 404, one of the planes he had flown for Eastern.   I got to take him on a pilgrimage to First Flight where we stood at the birthplace of powered flight and touched the big rock that famous pilots preceding us had touched.

For many years we had a tradition of heading out on Thanksgiving for a quick flight before settling in to feast on Turkey.  He flew with me in both my Mooney’s, my Bonanzas and my Baron as well as many other planes .  We snuck off to dogfight each other at Sky Warriors in Atlanta and no we did not tell mom.

Mom softened a bit when the grandkids came along and she took a few flights with him to meet up with the girls.  I think she was still terrified of heights, but she loved the kids more.  He had flown a wide variety of aircraft and because of him I got some rides in some very cool aircraft like a very cherry C-195. 

A few years back I was able to get him into a Stearman.  He had trained in the Harvard and lamented that he had never gotten to fly the classic bird.  I found one in central Florida and we headed down and took turns getting a ride.  It was a stretch in his late 80s getting into the cockpit but he pulled it off.

He flew as PIC into his 90s but realized his limits as he aged.  In his early 80s he quit flying solo and would either bring an instructor to watch over him and any passengers or another qualified pilot.  He loved helping people and even flew Angel flights. His last flight was at 94 and getting into and out of the plane was more of a production.  He flew the G1000 but I think was more comfortable with steam gauges than my glass panel.

Heck, he flew Aural ranges and told me about the excitement of being one of the first planes in his squadron to get a DF.  Not an ADF which did all the work for you.  Somehow he found his way back to the boat and other destinations with this crude equipment though I think the magenta line helped him out in later years.

He lived an extraordinary life, and did many amazing things, yet at his core he was a pilot and loved flying.