One Friday afternoon Craig and I stopped in Amarillo, TX for a ‘gas-and-go’ on a weekend T-38 cross-country mission. We were parked next to another Randolph (AFB) T-38.
The “rules” at the time, mandated that we take a “bag” – an instrument hood for the rear cockpit – to justify the trip. It was not a big deal to have the bag in the rear cockpit, other than being a pain in the ass at times.
When we went into the FBO – Fixed Base Operations – we saw Mike O. briefing a student. It was his jet next to ours.
Mike was a nice enough guy; a little naive at times I suppose, but not a bad guy. And he was briefing his heart out as we headed back out to our jet.
When we got out to our jet I looked at Craig and then at the bag, then I asked, “What do you think?” And then, it wasn’t long before we had that bag removed, and installed in Mike’s jet. And off we went without another thought.
At our Monday a few of us were sitting around when Mike said, “You know, I had the strangest experience over the weekend. I was on a student cross-country and we departed without a ‘bag’ on Friday afternoon. When we landed yesterday afternoon, there was a bag in the jet. Damnest thing…”
I didn’t have the heart to say anything… but it was ‘killing me!’