Flying has been my dream since before I can remember… literally. My Aunt Odette tells me that when I was three years old, she took me with her to the Port-au-Prince International Airport to pick someone up, and when I saw an airliner up close for the first time, I excitedly yelled out, "I want to drive that!" I don't recall that event, but it serves as evidence that my fascination with flying began at a remarkably young age. <br><br>My first memory of wanting to fly came a few years later at the age of seven. I was on my very first flight, from Port-au-Prince to New York City, where I was going to start a new life in a new country. I remember looking at all the people boarding the airplane and wondering how that "big silver bird" was going to get us into the air (that silver bird was an American Airlines Boeing 727). To this day, the whole experience is vivid in my mind: being greeted with a smile by the captain at the aircraft entry door, the funny feeling in my stomach as the plane accelerated down the runway, leaping into the air, and my utter disbelief that we didn't drop out of the sky! I was mesmerized by it all, and by the time the plane came to a stop at our gate, my dream had been born… I wanted to become an airline pilot. I have been blessed to be living that dream since 1999. It's a dream from which I hope never to awaken. <br><br>This is the story of the lifelong journey I have taken in realizing that dream. I invite you to come along with me as we go from my birth in Haiti to the present day, as I live my dream every day. You will come with me as I move to America at the age of seven, a country I knew nothing about and whose language I didn't speak, a land that would truly prove to be "the land of opportunity". You will feel my sense of wonder and bewilderment growing up in New York City, trying to understand my new world. You will face my struggles to fit in with the kids in the housing project where my family lived for a decade as Mom and Dad saved money to buy a house. You will meet my parents, who encouraged my dream of flying, and my fifth grade teacher who helped me to see that it was possible not only to dream it, but also to achieve it. It's a story of potential fulfilled, and my family's sacrifices to get me through college and flight school. <br><br>You will fly with me from my first lesson to my first airline job as a copilot, to the day I earned my four-stripes and first heard someone call me "Captain". You will sit with me in the captain's seat as I fly an airline jet over Haiti for the first time, looking down from thirty-eight thousand feet onto the land of my birth where my dream had been born. You will soar with me over the majestic Amazon jungle in Brazil, over the desert-flanked Nile River in Egypt, and the sparkling Mediterranean Sea. You will fly with me through New York City blizzards, Indian monsoons, and Arabian sandstorms. You will travel with me on adventures to Europe, South America, the Middle East, South Asia, the Caribbean, and other parts of the world I used to dream of going to as a child; places that have affected me profoundly and where I left a little part of myself. <br><br>I have seen all these things through the eyes of the seven year-old boy from Haiti that I was and in many ways, still am; the little boy who had a sense of just how incredible the world and life are, who dreamt of a life of worldwide adventure, and was blessed to have his dream come true. That is the reason for the title of this book, "The Seven Year-Old Pilot", because even after years of flying around the world, in many ways, I still feel like that little boy, and I always try to approach my travels and my life with his sense of gratitude, amazement, and awe. <br><br>I truly believe that every one of us has life experiences and lessons worth sharing that can inspire, enlighten, teach, and benefit others because we have all lived through tragedies and triumphs. We all have a life story worth telling and worth hearing. In that spirit, I offer you MY life story… Of my dreams, my worldwide adventures, my quest for love, and the universal life lessons I've learned along the way. It is my sincere hope that in reading my story, you will be inspired to dare to believe that if this little Haitian boy's dreams can come true, then yours can too.
Оглавление
Capt. Steven Archille. The Seven Year-Old Pilot
Introduction. Preparing for takeoff
Chapter 1. A dream takes flight
Takeoff
Chapter 2. A whole new world
The Streets of New York City
“Different” kinds of people
Moving to Staten Island
Superman, Toy Planes, and Libraries
Mr. Kuck
Mil novecientos ochenta y quatro
No crowd to fit into
Paperboy
Uncle Jolex
High school
Back to the past
The road to Fort Jacques
Delmas 65 and 65 Christopher
“College” and flying magazine
My last chance for love
War cry
Chapter 3. Earning my wings. FIT begins
Lance
Tiger 27
College life
Clipped wings? Lesson 4
Do or Die
The call
Lesson 4C
Flying solo
XC planning
Atlantis
Crash of the titans
The best Christmas gift ever
Transfer time
ISU
Ohio State?
My sweet Ohio home
Uptown
Flying blind
Under the hood
Cedar Point and summer love
Flying with focus
OU hiatus
Graduation (sort of)
TWA
Jump seating
TWA Flight 800
L-1011
Queen of the skies
Sashimi and dance
Stars over the Pacific
Going home
Traffic watch
On patrol
Back to OU
An old flame
Instructing at OU
Parties and flying
1998
COEX fever
Interview calls
No, no, no, yes
1999
Chapter 4. My Airline career begins. God’s plans
What did I get myself into?
Hank and the sim
Poised on the edge of discovery
Flying the Saab
My first day
Pitt
Non-reving USA
Welcome to Miami
Singapore Girls
CHQ Winter flying
Upgrade talk
San Antonio fun
The Fort
TWA round two
Sunset Beach Bar, SXM
Sim struggles
IFLYJETS
Jenae and American
Storms ahead
Chapter 5. 9/11 and discovering Europe. 9/11
Uncle Jolex and Germany
Citizen of the world
“Jungle-Jet” winter
Bienvenido a Miami
Paris!
Dating in Miami
The ATL!
London Calling
Brazilian dreams
Oh Canada!
Chapter 6. Adventures in Brazil. Embraer
My kind of place
Over Haiti at Thirty Eight Thousand feet
Engine-out over the Caribbean
Flying with new eyes
Searching the world for “the one”
The DR
Milan and San Juan
Age thirty-three
A new direction
Chapter 7. Incredible India and lessons in love. Chennai
Rainy days and Don
The proposal
Paraways
Indian skies and streets
Different strokes
Dubai
Friendship day
Lessons on love, Indian style
The honeymoon is over
The kind of love I dreamt of
What I learned from love
Chapter 8. Surprising Saudi Arabia and the Middle East. No desert wasteland
Saudi Surprises
Flirting, Saudi style
KSA and USA
Spain
Mount Sinai
Saudi Sandstorm
Flying through life
Coming Full Circle: Haiti 2011
Port-au-Prince nights
Chapter 9. Life lessons learned and living our dreams. Happiness and our dreams
How to REALLY live
A little boy boards a flight with a dream
Life Lessons Learned
Отрывок из книги
Flying has been my dream since before I can remember... literally. My Aunt Odette tells me that when I was three years old, she took me with her to the Port-au-Prince International Airport to pick someone up, and when I saw an airliner up close for the first time, I excitedly yelled out, “I want to drive that!” I don’t recall that event, but it serves as evidence that my fascination with flying began at a remarkably young age.
My first memory of wanting to fly came a few years later at the age of seven. I was on my very first flight, from Port-au-Prince to New York City, where I was going to start a new life in a new country. I remember looking at all the people boarding the airplane and wondering how that “big silver bird” was going to get us into the air (that silver bird was an American Airlines Boeing 727). To this day, the whole experience is vivid in my mind: being greeted with a smile by the captain at the aircraft entry door, the funny feeling in my stomach as the plane accelerated down the runway and leapt into the air, and my utter disbelief that we didn’t drop out of the sky! I remember how the people, cars, and houses seemed so small as we climbed; the sound of the bells and dings in the cabin that seemed to occur at random times during the flight; the pretty women in blue uniforms walking up and down the aisle, and the smell of hot food wafting through the cabin. I remember the square overhead reading lights, the strange blue water in the airplane’s toilet, and the bright, blinding white lights of the JFK airport terminal building pouring in through the cabin window as we pulled into our parking spot. I was mesmerized by it all, and by the time the plane came to a stop at our gate, my dream had been born… I wanted to become an airline pilot. I have been blessed to be living that dream since 1999. It’s a dream from which I hope never to awaken.
.....
I also often visited Anthony’s house on the weekends to play basketball in his back yard and dreamt of having a yard of my own one day. Mom and Dad were working hard to save up enough money to put a down payment on a house of our own during my years in junior high and high school. For me, the day that we would have a home to call our own could not come fast enough.
While I was very thankful for all I had and for what my parents provided for us, I knew that life in the housing projects was not what I wanted. The elevators, hallways, and stairways frequently smelled of urine, and many people left their trash out in the hall near the trash incinerator instead of making the “effort” to put the trash into the incinerator, which often created quite a stench. I had always stood out from the other kids in the projects because it was obvious to them that I was not from around there. On more than one occasion, I was told that I looked foreign, and although my presence was tolerated, I was never fully accepted as one of them. I was frequently ridiculed for my “big head” and dark complexion. I was also often accused of “acting white” because I was in honors classes, spoke proper English (the Sesame Street kind, the only kind I knew) and because I did not stay out getting into trouble with them. Our parents frequently reminded Betty and me that we were not from there and did not have to follow what the kids around us were doing. They told us to remember that we were Haitian Americans. They often said that we had been given an opportunity to live in this great country, and must do well in school to take advantage of it and make something of ourselves. They reminded us that all the hard work they were doing was so that we could have better lives than they had. Therefore, the fact that I stood apart from the crowd in the projects was partly by design and partly by choice; because I realized at an early age that if you want to go somewhere in life, you need to surround yourself with other people who want to go somewhere. It was obvious to me that many of the kids living around me were going nowhere, and with the exception of a couple of friends with whom I would sometimes play baseball near our building, I generally stayed away from the other project kids.
