When I was growning up, the company my dad worked for had a plane for business travel. These planes remind me of that time of my life. It was called, " Old Yeller". I will never forget the trips my dad took me on in this old Cessna, to Meridan & Laurel, Mississippi. Guess that is what enstilled the love for flying. I guess that I was about 13-14 years old. I remember when my Dad got his shirt cut off after his first solo flight. It was mounted on the pilots rooms, along with all of the other pilots shirts. Big day for my Dad, and me.