By Matt Ringen, EAA 1304226

There we were, upside down and on fire. Just kidding. But it’s bound to happen, you and whoever else is in the aircraft with you get to talking, and the stories start coming out. However, not every story is about flying and not every passenger is a pilot. This person could indeed be a veteran of the air, or maybe a child in wonder. It could be a coworker, copilot, distraught family, or exhausted professional; it could be anyone from any walk of life. The seat next to you could hold a full gold mine of life and humanity, and those stories are oddly pulled out when you’re just chatting along the way. I believe there is something therapeutic at the intersection of a useless cell phone, time to kill, and an epic view.

If you want to learn from 100 lifetimes, I implore you to lean into the downtime, be approachable, and listen. I can’t help but express how much I appreciate these interactions. Think back to some of the conversations you’ve had with the people you’ve flown with. Were they funny? Sad? Eye-opening? Mundane? I find it amusing that these stories work their way out in the cockpit, and I’m often impressed by how deep it goes when time isn’t prodding you to wrap it up. It’s a unique opportunity for everything to come out and powerful enough to get to the bottom of anything. Sure, there are the obvious and upfront gritty flying tales, but, again, I’m not really referring to those stories. Here are a few of my favorite, less obvious categories that come to mind:

The Curious Civilian. I, at the ripe age of 22, was privately flying an executive of a manufacturing company in an airplane twice my age. Needless to say, my fresh face was met with some skepticism but, gratefully, also an underlying current of curiosity. With a smile, a little bravado, and a firm handshake, I was able to convince the executive I had the situation in hand. We climbed in and departed for a totally uneventful flight.

Along the way, we, well, got to talking! I asked about his life, and he asked about mine. I asked him how he knows he’s signing a good deal. He replied that he listens to his intuition and surrounds himself with people who can admit they’re wrong. He asked what the hardest part of my job was (being an aspiring professional pilot) and I admitted it was saying “No” to an assignment and that the pressure can feel intense. He explained that people would respect me more if I look them in the eye and make the call, “No, not today.” I’ve used that advice since, and it definitely works. He asked me why the leading edges of the wings were covered in a strip of rubber. I explained that the strips are deice boots that inflate to crack off and remove ice. In fact, because we had the time, I explained the whole system. I ran the boots through a cycle, and he watched in amazement as the rubber ridges puffed up and then disappeared flush along the wing. He quietly said, “…That’s brilliant,” as he watched the action. I have a vehemently different opinion of deice boots, but we built a lot of trust in general aviation that day, and some stories are better saved for another audience.

Next, terrible dating advice. Go ahead and laugh, not all cockpit conversations are profound. I call this category Unsolicited, and it’s usually bestowed from people who, shall we say, don’t have a record indicating any advanced qualification. I’ve heard the gamut. From techniques straight out of the film Grease (“It’s all in the hair, man”), to modern app game-playing (“You just text them, ‘hey.’”). Thanks for the advice…I think? I have found that this confident, unsolicited advice can be heard for just about anything. Investments, cryptocurrency trading, mother-in-law management, barbecue smoker settings, time between oil changes, you name it. They are such human circular conversations addressing questions we will never find the answer to. However, actually listening to the person (instead of the advice, in these cases) can help you learn something about them or at least be good for a laugh and a little perspective.

Speaking of, this next one is a deep cut, prepare yourself. After flying together for all of one climb-out, a captain once turned to me and said, “Look, I’ve recently gone through something in my life, and I found I just gotta get it out. It helps me a lot to just tell people and get it out of the way early because it’s really rough, so please just hang in there with me and I’ll be good.” That’s the sound of the seat belt sign, if you didn’t recognize it. I assessed the workload and told him I was in, lay it on me.

He was recently returning after a long stretch rightfully away from work because his wife of 30-some years had died from cancer. Further, she chose to stop treatments, against his wishes, when she learned it was irrefutably terminal. And even further, despite his own feelings, he brought himself around to respect that decision and went on to describe the end, he by her side, holding on for dear life, literally. He was four years from retiring, and the love of his life and all their plans together fell through his hands. He turned to look at me and he was crying. I was crying, too. He finished his story, took a cleansing breath, and reached across the flight deck to shake my hand, “I’m sorry to unload like that. Thank you for listening, it means a lot.” I was in total awe, no apology necessary. With his story in the open, I immediately felt him lighten, knowing he wasn’t hiding. I now understood the man next to me, too. He knew what he needed and had no issue asking for help with it, bravo. Surprisingly fast, we were making jokes again and turning the conversation to appreciate all the time they had. By the end of the trip, we were rolling in laughter. He was one of the most agreeable captains I’ve ever flown with. Kind, easy-to-laugh, sharp, and humble. I knew he was going to be alright. When we parted ways, he left me with a big grin, “Thanks Matt, feels good to have a trip like that one.”

I have to wonder, am I writing about the stories, or am I writing about the cockpit environment that brings them out? If we fabricated that environment on the ground, could we not hear each other more often? I, personally, have had some of the most meaningful conversations of my life happen while crowding around a half-built kit in a hangar. How would our friendships, marriages, kids, etc. all benefit if they got a taste? It’s something to think about at least.

We have time to hear it all when flying and maybe we’re overdue to intentionally make that time when we’re not. There are few places left in daily life for the lost tradition of sharing stories and thoughts. The camaraderie, community, and compassion you gain is worth the effort. I hope you look back on some of the not-so-aviation stories you’ve heard while in aviation and appreciate the people they belong to. What a unique setting we have, hiding in plain sight, to learn about another person. Maybe learn about ourselves, too, while we’re at it.

Matt Ringen is a full-timer at a major airline. He stays connected to GA through the homebuilt community.