I Like Helicopters

I like helicopters. There is something fascinating to me about how they operate and what they can do. I’m not a pilot, mechanic, or engineer, so while I understand some of the basic principles, it’s still kind of magical to me. A little scary, too, when I think about everything hanging from a whirling disk of rotor blades.

When I was growing up, my main exposure to helicopters was through television. Helicopters made occasional appearances on Magnum, P.I. and The A-Team, two shows I watched regularly. And there was Airwolf, about a super-advanced helicopter and its troubled pilot, and the short-lived Blue Thunder, about another hi-tech helicopter. To an aviation-enthusiast kid in his early teens, the Airwolf and Blue Thunder helicopters in particular were the coolest things flying.

Now, as an adult, I find real-life helicopters much more interesting and inspiring than any of the fanciful, fictional representations I enjoyed as a child. My enthusiasm and wonder about helicopters are still childlike at times though. Occasionally, Marine helicopters stationed at Robins Air Force Base will fly over my house. I love it. I might feel differently if they were flying over at all hours every day, but as it is, I wish they would fly over more often. When my two-year-old daughter hears the distant whop-whop-whop of the rotors, she’ll turn to me with wide, bright eyes and say, “Hehwicopa.” I’ll scoop her up in my arms and we’ll rush outside to see the gray helicopters—usually Super Cobras—pass overhead. On the rare best days we’ll run outside three or four times.