This piece originally ran in the December 2023 issue of EAA Sport Aviation magazine.

Folks, I am feeling both sad and reflective. I want to share with you these two intense feelings I have experienced during the past few months. The first reason for my feelings is that I was unable to attend this year’s AirVenture. The second reason is the possibility that I would not be able to fly again.

First, let me talk about my absence from EAA AirVenture Oshkosh 2023. It was only the third time that I would miss the big EAA convention, what is now called AirVenture. Both of the previous times were the result of being a junior pilot on the TWA seniority list, which means I was unable to bid for that particular time off. It did not take long for me to realize that seniority is everything within an airline, as my fellow airline pilots understand.

However, this time the reason was medical. I went through a lower back surgical procedure on July 24, which resulted in the placement of rods and pins in my spine. I was in no shape to make it to AirVenture.

Lying and thrashing around in a hospital bed when I really should have been at AirVenture is a gut-wrenching experience. Yes, I was down in the dumps. Remember I said I was being reflective? Well, I was thinking about being 82 years of age, so it isn’t rocket science as to the number of AirVentures that I may have left.

Not being able to attend this year’s AirVenture hurt me in two specific ways. First, it’s the person-to-person contact that I missed the most. Over the many years of attending this big event, I have come in contact and shaken hands with many interesting people. Long-term friendships have been established.

Second, is going home. You see, the whole area is my old stomping ground. I was raised just 20 miles to the west in Berlin, Wisconsin. I am familiar with the roads in and around Wittman Regional Airport. When I received my September issue of EAA Sport Aviation with the cover photo so clearly showing the north one-third of Wittman Regional Airport, it really hit home.

My footprints and fingerprints have made contact with many areas down there. The AirVenture layout creates an atmosphere that can be felt by simply being on the field. For a pilot or aviation enthusiast, this is heaven. That atmosphere along with the person-to-person contact mixed together is EAA. Over the years, I have witnessed and become a part of this amazing growth.

The person-to-person contact that I missed was experienced when I would sit in the Air-Tech tent, talking Quicksilvers or any other ultralight-type aircraft with all my fellow ultralight enthusiasts. That was missing this year, and that hurt. I have built up quite a few friendships, and to meet many of these people in person creates a strong aviation bond. When we talk, we understand and feel the clarity of what is being spoken. We are fellow pilots.

Couple that with being able to look out from the Quicksilver tent over the surrounding area and seeing all the other exhibits, booths, and ultralight aircraft flying off the runway — one is simply inhaling aviation.

My other major concern while thrashing around on that hospital bed was whether I would be able to fly again and how long I would have to wait. The time limit I heard most often would be 12 weeks. But 12 weeks is a long time when you’re 82 and running out of time.

Adding to my concern was the marginal way I was moving and the pain level I was experiencing. I was given all the warning instructions of what not to do and all the instructions on how to do something correctly. Nowhere was there any encouragement that I would be able to fly anytime soon. Even getting out of bed was a challenge. Walking was difficult. Even thinking of flying while I was on the pain meds was out of the question.

I signed up for in-home physical therapy. Folks, soon I was able to walk from the living room to the front door, a distance of some 20 feet. I am relaying all this information to offer some advice and encouragement to my fellow pilots who have to undergo a serious surgery. Enroll and follow a specific outpatient program. It works.

Lucky for me, my wife would drive me to my hangar so I could just look at my ’83 Quicksilver. She would open the hangar door just a little bit so we could go in and sit down on some chairs. I knew that if I could get into a seated position and was completely free from my pain meds for a couple of days, I would be able to fly.

I would need someone to mix the fuel and fill the tank, someone to open my hangar doors, help me preflight the airplane, and push it out of the hangar. Then that person would have to pull the recoil starter to get it running. First though, I would have to be able to get into a seated position. Folks, with just my wife’s help, at the six-week mark, I was able to lift my legs over the spoiler lines and get in a seated position. That felt so good. I knew then that I would be able to fly soon.

And fly soon I did. Just three days after just sitting in my Quick, I flew. Before I could actively reach out to find someone to help me, fellow EAAer Tom O’Connor presented himself and did all the previously mentioned points that I needed someone to do for me. And, if you recall from my previous articles, I take off early morning, at civil sunrise, so Tom had to get up early too.

On September 6, just six weeks after major back surgery, with a full fuel tank and the preflight complete, my Quicksilver was rolled out of the hangar. Once again raising my legs over the spoiler lines, I backed into the seat. Then, after securing my seat and shoulder belts, plugging my David Clark headset into my Icom radio, and with the dual hydraulic parking brakes set, I was ready for Tom to pull the recoil starter. After sitting for six weeks, she just coughed on the first pull. After the second pull, she fired right up. A glance at my four-in-one instrument showed the rpm, dual cylinder heads, and exhaust gas temperature were all normal.

It’s difficult to put into words the emotions I was experiencing. Releasing the brakes, I began my taxi to Runway 23. After arriving at the runway hold short point and performing my before-takeoff checklist, I announced my intentions to take off. Taxiing onto the runway and lining up on the centerline, I applied takeoff power and I was airborne in seconds.

As I’ve stated before, being 82 years old, I feel freer in expressing my emotions. I don’t feel the least embarrassed in saying this, but the watery eyes I was experiencing were not entirely from the open air and wind in my face. My thoughts briefly went back to the person thrashing in that hospital bed knowing that I would miss AirVenture and wondering just how long it would take to get back in the air with my little Quicksilver.

I flew two more times with Tom’s help. On October 7, I flew all by myself. I opened the hangar doors, fueled my aircraft, did a preflight, and rolled my Quicksilver out of the hangar.

Setting the parking brakes, I primed her and pulled the starter all by myself. She started right up, and I carefully stepped over those spoiler lines and backed into the seat. Folks, I was right back in time, just like I was before my surgery.

Why is this story so important? It’s because I believe EAA helps foster an atmosphere where members are encouraged to help fellow pilots. The tremendous number of EAA members who volunteer to help at AirVenture is amazing. In some quiet times, all by myself, I ask myself if I would be as ready and willing to offer assistance to my fellow pilots. I can honestly answer yes.

My recovery has a ways to go, as I am in outpatient therapy. I still experience some pain, and I have some physical restrictions. But I stand ready to help my fellow pilots. I owe my family and all my fellow pilots so much — and that simple little Quicksilver sitting so patiently in the hangar was waiting for me, too. I just know it.

George Karamitis, EAA 144192, is a retired TWA captain, holds an ATP with B-727 and B-747 type ratings, and has been a CFI for more than 50 years. In 2013, George received the Wright Brothers Master Pilot Award for more than 50 years of accident-, incident-, and citation-free flight.