Going out on a high note

There's something decidedly disheartening about waving goodbye. It's difficult to frown, however, from a height of 18,000 feet.

Covering my last Cherry Point Air Show for the Havelock News, I had the chance last Friday to ride in an Aero L-29 Delfin jet with pilot Jerry Conley. The sleek two-seater performs simulated chases and dogfights with a BAC 167 Strikemaster owned by Andy Anderson.

Both planes were on static display at last weekend's air show, but the pilots had offered their warbirds for media rides. I was strapped into Conley's plane, which is painted vividly with an eagle and American flag on one side and an eagle and Russian flag on the other.

Mark Gilchrist, chief photographer for the Whiteville News Reporter, rode in the Strikemaster, which is covered with the image of a scaly, snarling dragon.

I climbed the narrow jet and lowered myself carefully into the navigator's seat. Conley helped buckle me into the harness and emergency parachute, belted me to the seat and patiently showed me how to put on the helmet and oxygen mask. He also supplied an airsickness bag, which I fortunately didn't need.

Instruments, dials and gauges were everywhere. The L-29 - dubbed the Viper - was a compact marvel of aviation. The needles in the oval gauges responded to every dip, roll and lurch.

After Conley and I had sealed our cockpits, we followed the Dragon onto the runway and into the sky. Sweat began clotting on my forehead and dribbling onto my nose and cheeks as the Viper climbed through clouds. The plane had no air conditioning, and Conley later estimated the cockpit temperature at 120 degrees.

The Dragon surged ahead and Conley's Viper gave chase, pinning me into my seat. We executed a climb and roll maneuver that applied 5 Gs of pressure - that's five times the force of gravity - to the pilot and his purpling passenger.

I greedily sucked air from the oxygen mask, feeling winded and thirsty. My skin beaded with sweat and my clothing clung tightly to my splayed frame.

While upside down, I saw the channels of cobalt blue water, the rigid skeleton of U.S. 70 and the otherworldly aerial shapes of subdivisions, neighborhoods and business districts.

A thick haze coated the skies above Cherry Point, so some aerobatic maneuvers were abandoned in the name of safety. The pilots did simulate an abbreviated dogfight and treated Gilchrist and me to a couple more swerves and spins before we were back on the ground.

During the last several minutes of the flight, my hands began pulsing in time with the Viper's vibrations. My fingers felt like they were being squeezed, and I flexed them tenderly until the jet returned to the runway.

Though the flight left me wobbly, it was a thrill I'll always remember and would gladly repeat. I offer adamant thank-yous to Conley and the Joint Public Affairs Office at Cherry Point, which coordinated the ride.

Flying on a retired military jet trainer is just one of the memorable experiences I've had while working at the Havelock News. I honestly can't count the unique opportunities I've been given in my two years and four months with the newspaper.

But, as REO Speedwagon's Kevin Cronin croons, "it's time for me to fly." And I don't mean in another fighter jet.

I'm going to work for the Gaston Gazette, a Freedom Communications paper in the Charlotte suburb of Gastonia. The editor is none other than Hunter Bretzius, the former Havelock News publisher who gave this paper its distinctive look and helped build its excellent reputation.

Will I miss Havelock - its people, its politics, its traditions, its spirit? Of course. And, I hope some of you will remember me fondly as well.

Moving to a new city and tackling a new job isn't all that different from taking a ride in a sky-swallowing jet. There will be spins and twirls, some added pressure and maybe a little discomfort. But the view from that great perch, I'll soon find, is spectacular.

Up, up and away.

Corey Friedman is now the former staff writer and photographer of the Havelock News

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