Easy... two words. My Father.
From as early as I can remember, the aromas of Ambroid cement and butyrate dope asserted themselves along with assortments of balsa sticks and curiously large sheets of paper with images resembling airplanes as an indelible part of my early childhood. As a toddler I was encouraged to 'look, but don't touch' as my dad extended his love of model aviation, formed in his teens, into young adulthood. My toddler self gleefully wobbled behind him to various open fields around Charlottesville, VA to watch his creations take flight. His interest ran the gamut from hand-launched gliders, to graceful Wakefield stick-and-tissue rubber-powered free flighters, to rubber-band escapement guided radio controlled screamers powered by tiny glow engines.
My most vivid memory is of standing on the edge of a pasture after being ordered to 'stay,' and balling my eyes out as he ran after a glow-powered free-flight model he had launched. It was a Gullows Super Cub with a Cox .020 that he had meticulously crafted with a very scale red and white scheme. His trim adjustments did not result in the desired spiral upwards, but rather a b-line across numerous fields and fences, causing him to pursue it at full speed until way out of sight. I cried and cried. Not because my father had abandoned me, but because I LOVED that airplane. I thought it was lost. After less than an hour, he returned - breathless, but grinning ear-to-ear, Cub in hand.
Life went on and his interest swung to other hobbies - golf, hunting, fishing, woodworking, photography, etc... but the seed had been planted. When I chanced to discover a friend's father stunting a 'HUGE' .35 Fox powered control line model in the local schoolyard it was on again - for me. This time it was not just look, but touch and BUILD!
My dad and I were very different in our approach to things. It was often a cause of friction between us. He was very studied and methodical, I was more free-thinking and intuitive. Where we found common ground was in the art and science of model aviation. My creative engineering and sense of craftsmanship became a great source of pride - for him in me, and for me in myself. It underscored our love and mutual respect until his passing in 2007.
Dad, with his 'giant scale' FF Comet Clipper powered by a Ohlsson 60 gasoline ignition engine.
I'm guessing he was about 16 years old.
Top Flight Schoolboy, one channel, rubber-band escapement, push-button transmitter,
romping' stompin' Cox .010 Tee Dee in the nose!
Yours truly on the taxi-way at Fort Lee Airport with my Tri-Squire, getting ready for a sortie - about 1972.
Thank you dad, for giving me a love of flying things.
It has given me the chance to touch the face of God.