I entered the world of aviation in the late '90s, fueled by the smell of spent nitro and the mentorship of my father. A full-scale pilot himself, Dad saw RC flying as the perfect "entry ramp" to the skies. He was right. My journey started with a two-channel EZ-Bee powered by a screaming Cox .049—a plane I flew until it was held together by more epoxy than foam.
By 14, I was a hobby shop regular and a club trainer or "buddy boxing" veteran in Rhode Island, graduating through Hangar 9 trainers to .40-size aerobatic ships. But as often happens to us, life throttled up. High school, career, and the general "noise" of adulthood pushed the hobby into the basement—literally. For nearly 15 years, my fleet sat in silent storage under my father’s watchful eye while I only occasionally took to the air.
In late 2021, my world changed. After my father’s passing, I found myself back in that basement, seeking comfort among the balsa and dust of the house I grew up in. Seeing those planes still hanging there felt like a warm embrace. Surprisingly, time had been kind to them. I hauled the collection home, determined to hear those O.S. engines sing again.
Rejuvenating those airframes was more than a restoration project, it was a way to navigate grief. One by one, they returned to the sky. The "bug" didn't just bite again; it took hold with a vengeance (and a much healthier adult budget).
A move to Maine led me to a stroke of luck. While looking to volunteer at a local aviation event, I was introduced to a unique group of club members who, unbeknownst to me, would change my search for a club into the opportunity I didn't know I needed. The Fremont RC Flyers became my club, and an elite group we call the AMA District Outreach Team (ADOT) asked me to join them at a few more events and that is when my hobby truly took off and became a passion. What started as a search for a place to fly evolved into a mission.
Today, I’m part of an outreach team that promotes the hobby on a massive scale. We’ve shared the tarmac with legends like Mike Goulian and the U.S. Navy Blue Angels, and many more, introducing tens of thousands of spectators to the magic of model flight.
The most incredible moment, however, happened on a recent Zoom call. A face on the screen caught my eye—it was the very man who had introduced my father to the hobby and buddy-boxed me for my first flights 25 years ago. Our conversation after the meeting led to eyes welling up as he realized the "kid" he taught was now part of the leadership of the AMA New England District Outreach Team and flying for a cause was the ultimate full-circle moment.
What began as a childhood pastime with my dad has become my greatest source of pride. I am pursuing a full-scale private pilot certificate and well on my way there, working with many organizations to get youth engaged in aviation, and continuing to grow with every buddy box flight or conversation with the newcomer. I’m no longer just flying for myself; I’m flying to ignite that same spark in the next generation.
While I might not see the full harvest of my efforts today, I fly with a new purpose. By pouring my energy into outreach, I’m ensuring that one day, another pilot will look back and realize their journey started with us. My goal is to be the spark in someone else's story, just as my father and my instructor were in mine.
