This was about to become a thread hijack so moving it here.
Words of wisdom.
I do feel the family legacy part of it. I grew up tagging along with my father in his shop, watching everything he did, trying to soak it in and learn.
There are not a lot of parts left to make - yesterday I found a box of wing hardware dad made and stashed in the barn 15 years ago. Some of the parts were straightforward but some were so beautifully made it was like seeing dad's signature on them.
Dad is still with us thankfully but this project is like reconnecting back to when I was a kid and he was a magic giant who could make or fix anything.
None of my biological kids were the least bit interested in working in the shop and I thought maybe this legacy going back generations dies with me. But then my adopted daughter started following me out to the shop. By the time she was 12 her science fair project was "Tensile Strength of Hardened vs Annealed vs Untreated TIG Welds"
I swear I did not put her up to this.
I'm not questioning what kind of plane my father started.
Just think about it: my daughter finds out that missionary bush pilots fly, fix their planes, and serve. Her eyes get big and she announces this is her calling. And it just so happens my dad has a partially built bush plane waiting in the barn for someone(s) to come and finish it.
There is obviously some higher intelligence driving this bus because nobody could have planned out this chain of events ahead of time. When dad started this build 15 years ago I thought my wife and I were done having kids and none of them were going to be shop people.
I'm obviously not the author of this story. I'm just grateful to have a part in it.
Originally posted by Bcone1381
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I do feel the family legacy part of it. I grew up tagging along with my father in his shop, watching everything he did, trying to soak it in and learn.
There are not a lot of parts left to make - yesterday I found a box of wing hardware dad made and stashed in the barn 15 years ago. Some of the parts were straightforward but some were so beautifully made it was like seeing dad's signature on them.
Dad is still with us thankfully but this project is like reconnecting back to when I was a kid and he was a magic giant who could make or fix anything.
None of my biological kids were the least bit interested in working in the shop and I thought maybe this legacy going back generations dies with me. But then my adopted daughter started following me out to the shop. By the time she was 12 her science fair project was "Tensile Strength of Hardened vs Annealed vs Untreated TIG Welds"
I swear I did not put her up to this.
I'm not questioning what kind of plane my father started.
Just think about it: my daughter finds out that missionary bush pilots fly, fix their planes, and serve. Her eyes get big and she announces this is her calling. And it just so happens my dad has a partially built bush plane waiting in the barn for someone(s) to come and finish it.
There is obviously some higher intelligence driving this bus because nobody could have planned out this chain of events ahead of time. When dad started this build 15 years ago I thought my wife and I were done having kids and none of them were going to be shop people.
I'm obviously not the author of this story. I'm just grateful to have a part in it.
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