Ah yes, THAT was Ivan. I used to "blame" him every chance I had for my entry into the jet community ten years ago. Prior to that he was simply a mentor who'd kick my ass when I blew an approach - he'd beat on me unmercifully and make me keep flying approaches and aborting landings until I got it "just right."

Ivan could eyeball a model before its 1st flight and tell you within a few clicks or so what sort of trim you'd need even before the plane took off!

That guy was a MASTER at making CorelDraw literally sing. Virtually every one of my jets has markings that originally started out on Ivan's PC in a CorelDraw file. It didn't stop there, he was equally adept at cobbling up some magic, goofball Excel spreadsheet (with animated graphics no less) just to make a point on some esoteric aspect of aerodynamics.

Probably more modelers than I can count learned from him. We learned a lot about what it takes to build and competently fly a decent model airplane. We learned a lot about generosity and his unselfish approach to helping out just about everybody. We learned of his unwavering principles of self-accountability and ethics - we also learned he placed the same demands on others as he placed on himself. We learned to NEVER get into an argument or debate with Ivan if he knew he was right!

This guy was also a warrior's warrior. He graduated from the AF Academy in 1966 and went on to fly and fight with distinction during the Viet Nam conflict - most of his time "in-country" was spent with obscure "special operations groups" operating over/in Cambodia and Laos. (Lord knows, we used to swap a lot of lies during our many BS sessions!) Later he went on to train AF pilots in both the Tweet (T-37) and the venerable Mouse (T-38), logging several thousand hours in the later alone.

He was not without courage, even during the last days of his life when he knew the end was near. I last saw him two weeks ago when he came out to our club's warbird fly-in. He did not appear the part of the warrior I knew - the cancer was kicking his ass big time. But, despite being in a wheelchair with an O2 bottle on his lap, his held his head high and could still muster a decent handshake despite his failing condition. We talked a lot; we said a lot of emotional things that guys should say to one another more often - especially friends. I put my arm around his shoulder and told him he was the best friend a guy could ask for, in ANY circumstance - we both shed a few tears. We parted company with a mutual salute and we both knew we had said our good byes for the last time.

Yup, he'll be missed; missed by me more than words can describe. Count your blessings gentlemen. Sorry to ramble on ...

Mike