Growing Up Oshkosh
A pilot who has attended nearly every EAA AirVenture since she was two months old talks about its influence on her life and the desire to return every year.
Every year it's the same same questions. "You're going back?" "Why?" "Haven't you seen everything?" "Isn't it just the same airplanes over and over?" I sometimes can't help but wonder if the questioners believe that I'm living out the definition of insanity when it comes to Oshkosh; doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. It all boils down to this—I've been going to EAA's AirVenture, which I still mostly just refer to as "Oshkosh," almost every year since I was two months old. Even though I've gone to the largest aviation gathering in the world nearly 25 times, I'm excited about going again this year.
If I were living out the definition of insanity, Oshkosh would indeed be the same thing each year. It's not. I understand that, on the surface, to those never having experienced Oshkosh, it may sound like the same stuff, tame after having seen it once or twice. Airplanes show up from all over the world. People come and give talks about everything from building an airplane to what type of oil to use. People camp under the wings of their airplanes on the South and North 40. The air show happens at the same time every day. People get in their airplanes and go home. I can see why some would believe AirVenture becomes mundane after a year or two. But, to me, it's what is underneath the surface, beyond the drone of the airshow announcers that the magic lies and makes for the reasons I continue to attend Oshkosh and start making plans six months in advance. My dad, I and our friends refer to the magic as the "Oshkosh Effect" to explain what draws so many of us to one particular aviation gathering year after year and how it can affect our lives at other times of the year.
It All Starts
My first Oshkosh was not by choice. At two months of age I was, as my parents put it, in the portable stage of my life. I went where my parents went. As I aged, I began to make memories of Oshkosh. The memories were initially of friendly people who were delighted by the sights and sounds of the nearby airplanes—and they passed that excitement along. During the first few years, the firm my father worked for rented a farmhouse near what is now the ultralight runway. Its backyard was my safe place to play in between times of being taken in a stroller or wagon through the airshow grounds. After all, what do little kids think is the best thing in the world when they get to go somewhere new? It's certainly not airplanes or informational talks, it's the attention they get and the ability to zoom around until they're so tired they pass out on the grass.
Soon, I developed my own desire to be at Oshkosh each summer. I would ask to go each year instead of just tagging along. I grew from wanting attention as a little kid to feeling a sense of adventure. I was learning more and more about what was at AirVenture. We were now flying in and I loved camping by the airplane and making new friends. I remember when I was about eight being disappointed because my dad only had a short time off work to go to Oshkosh and there were thunderstorms everywhere the day we were to go, so we had to stay home.
Finally I became old enough to break away from my parents and their friends and strike out on my own for increasing periods of time. Granted I did not go very far, as I loved KidVenture and spent most of my time there. This became a thrill each year as I kept growing and figuring out all I could do. Oshkosh fueled my sense of independence, tested my courage and helped teach me how to be me.
Maturity, Responsibility
As I neared middle school age, I became too old for KidVenture as it was structured then. That year, and those to follow, started teaching me to look toward others instead of doing just what I wanted. That year I became a volunteer at KidVenture. I watched the little kids, helped them with the games and the airplane-related crafts they worked on and built, talked with parents about what KidVenture offered and ensured them their little ones would be well looked after. These years taught me to be responsible, honest and what it meant to be held accountable and be reliable. As a middle school kid I came to understand that my word meant something and I had to follow through. It felt good to say I would be back the next day and to see the staff's welcoming reaction when I lived up to my word and was there when I'd said I would be.
I like thunderstorms (from outside of them). That may be because virtually every year there has been an evening thunderstorm during Oshkosh and they provided adventure to me as a kid. There was the year that we fled from the tent into the airplane and then into a friend's big SUV as the storm blasted through and the fun—in a kid's eyes—of seeing that some of the Porta-Johns had been blown over. There was the year that some of the pilots in the group of us that were camping together had bought the brand new Garmin 496 GPS that had color radar. We watched a green line of weather develop and come towards Oshkosh as we were preparing dinner. Pretty soon there was yellow in the line. As it got closer, much of it turned red. I knew that meant we were going to have another great thunderstorm soon after we ate. Then, just before the line got to the airport, parts of it turned purple in the display. People looked at each other and asked, "What's purple? What does that mean?" We found out. Tents were blown down. I helped others hold onto the poles holding up the fly over our cooking area and got drenched. It was exciting. People who didn't know each other rushed to help each other—the Oshkosh Effect.
As late middle school and early high school years rolled around I truly began to figure out what I liked and disliked. I began flying lessons and soloed a glider the day I turned 14 and a Cessna 150 on my 16th birthday. I paid more and more attention to the multitude of different aircraft at Oshkosh. If I had an interest in any airplane, it was almost certain one would be at AirVenture and I could learn more about it. I liked the warbirds a great deal and developed a fascination with one of the World War II fighters—the amazing Chance Vought F4U Corsair. It became one of the driving reasons for me to return to Oshkosh for many years. The first thing I would do after we tied down the airplane and got our passes would be to sprint to the warbird section and see how many Corsairs were there. After a few years of talking with everyone around the Corsairs, I got a chance to sit in one. I was over the moon. Years later, the conversations I had with Corsair people and friendships that resulted eventually, and unexpectedly, led to one of the greatest adventures of my life—I got a ride in a Corsair. The Oshkosh Effect.
Something else also began to change in me as I came into high school; I began to understand the conversation of the adults. Oshkosh became less and less about me and playing with friends and more about learning. Every person at Oshkosh had a story—a reason to be there—and that fascinated me. I noticed that I began to be seen as my own person and not just a cute little kid zipping around having fun.
Stories and Experiences
Through high school, then college and afterwards, I've become more and more interested in the people, the conversations, and the possibilities only Oshkosh can give. There are so many things to learn, so many stories to hear. And now I can contribute to the stories of Oshkosh! Not only do I have my own stories, but most of them are due to the magic of the Oshkosh Effect.
So when people ask me why I keep going back to Oshkosh I pause and think about all of the different reasons throughout the years. As a kid it was simply because my parents took me; as an elementary school kid it was for the attention of those around me. When I hit middle school it was for the independence and the feeling of being helpful and accountable. High school age welcomed the new dimension of coming into myself and expanding on my interests as well as beginning to fit in with the adults.
I think of the excitement of flying right seat with my dad, spotting traffic and backing him up with the NOTAM procedures on arrival and departure. I remember the stunned look on the face of a pilot from France who rode into Oshkosh with us one year as we approached the airport and she saw how incredibly many airplanes were already there and the line of aircraft arriving. She commented that she didn't think that there were that many airplanes in all of France. She was probably right. She was amazed by something that was routine to me—we immediately turned off the runway and taxied on the grass.
There was the night one of our friends taxied a P-51 over to where our group was making dinner in the North 40. A few minutes later an EAA volunteer put a "Tie This Airplane Down" sign on the Mustang. Almost immediately, one of my friends grabbed a tent stake and a short length of twine. He stuck the stake in the ground by one of the Mustang's tires and tied the twine from the stake to the gear leg.
I've flown Piper Cubs and Super Cubs and I think of the year at Oshkosh that celebrated the 75th anniversary of the Cub. I'd never seen so many yellow airplanes. Because I fly gliders, last year I was excited and delighted to watch Italian pilot Luca Bertossio do a stunning aerobatic routine in a glider. No, it's not always the same at Oshkosh.
The ultimate reason and the answer to all the questions about returning to Oshkosh is simply this, "Yes I see a lot of the same things, but never are the experiences or the people the same." I keep flying (if I can, driving if I can't) to Oshkosh because of the people. Every person there has a story, a craving to know more or a fledging love for flight. Each time I'm there, there are new people to meet and new stories to hear and tell. I'm part of something huge, and am enjoying the Oshkosh Effect on my life. All I want is to add my little story to the magic and history of Oshkosh to continue to make it the best air show on the planet.
Amelia Durden is a private pilot, writer and horse trainer in Altoona, Iowa. She is the daughter ofAVweb's Rick Durden.
