If any good might possibly come of the tragic demise of Kobe Bryant, it will be the second thought that any pilot has about flying because of highly unfavorable conditions, and, of course, his memory of this incident that would counter his intent to fly.

I am recalling August 1, 1963. I was finishing chores after milking. The early morning fog was thick as pea soup there on the farm.

This ten year old boy well knew that the plane he heard laboring above him had no business being up there. But it was.

Then, at woods edge, the ripping of metal, the roar of the engine and an explosion heard round the countryside. All could have been prevented by simply NOT flying.

Kobe, with any luck, your’s was fast and clean, void of the horror that has to attend such an occurrence. May you and your young one Rest In Peace. May God comfort your wife and family.

Again, the question is evoked. What possible sense is to be made of flying in such weather?



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