I hope that as each of you begins to read this tribute to my friend, Charlie Little, that you’ll take a moment to think of how he may have influenced your life. I have no doubt that the great majority of you will have nothing but good memories of him. I suppose there may be those who have had a “run in” with him as well, which has likely been forgiven and forgotten. In any case, take a moment to think about those times and I hope you never forget those experiences. Give a small prayer of thanks for the time you were able to share with him and think of those good friends that surround you now. Have you had a chance lately to tell them how much you appreciate them and their friendship? If not, please take the time to do so, because you just never know when it could be too late.

Also I tend to write more than I probably should, so I apologize up front for the length of this article, but this has helped me to handle the passing of one of my dearest friends and there’s so much more I could have written. All of the photos on this page are thumbnail links to a larger version of each photo, so if you want to see an enlarged version, just click on the photo. Now here we go…

There are many analogies about our journey through life and death. Appropriately life has been compared to a trip with a beginning and an end.

In aviation there is a term known as a “Landing Pattern.” Even if you didn’t realize it, if you’ve ever flown in an airplane, the pilot of that craft used some form of a “Landing Pattern” to safely land the airplane. In brief terms a “Landing Pattern” consists of three basic parts; A “Downwind Leg” a “Base Leg” and the “Final Approach”. Of course that is greatly simplifying the process because there are about a million things going on during the entire process.

Of necessity, when I was a young man flying full-scale sailplanes (airplanes with no engines), I learned about the extreme importance of setting up for a good landing; because unlike powered aircraft, in sailplanes you don’t get a chance to “go around and try again” you’ve only got one shot at making a landing; good or bad! Since then I’ve told nearly every student I have ever taught to fly radio control airplanes, a good landing starts with a good approach. If your approach is off; good luck with the landing!

If life was to be concisely compared to a flight, it would start with the take-off (birth), a climb to altitude (adolescence), the flight itself (some are short, others very long), then the descent (elderly deterioration?) into the landing pattern (in some shocking cases there’s no landing, just an accidental, immediate, no-warning crash); in other cases there may be the downwind leg (receiving notice that your life may end sooner than you thought); the base leg (the valiant fight against the ailment); and then the final approach to landing (death).

Ever since I can possibly remember, I’ve always been interested in Aviation. There are pictures of me as a toddler with my Dad in a parking area off of Lindbergh Boulevard at the end of the St. Louis runway where you used to be able to observe the airliners as they approached to land or as they took off. I was pointing my finger at them as they went by. This fascination with airplanes has continued my entire life. As mentioned, I even flew solo in a full-scale sailplane before I could legally drive a car at 15 years of age. If it hadn’t been for my overweight problem I have no doubt that I would have become an Air Force pilot, but that dream was never realized. I have a desire to obtain my Private Pilot’s license, but the cost is too prohibitive.

In July of 1991 I went on a trip to visit my Dad in Muncie, Indiana, when he introduced me to something that he has enjoyed since he was a young man – Model Aviation.

In the year or two prior to my arrival in 1991, Dad had assembled a trainer type radio-controlled (R/C) model known as a Midwest Aerostar. He explained how he had built it, covered it and was learning to fly it. He took me out to the Academy of Model Aeronautics brand new National Flying Site, located in Muncie, Indiana, as it was still under construction. However, they had already completed a nice large flat blacktop area where model aviators could fly.

He assembled the plane by attaching the wing, he started up the engine, showed me how the radio components worked, but was too cautious to fly it because Dad still wasn’t ready to fly his R/C airplane solo even though he had a Private Pilots license. You see, flying models from the ground is very different than flying a full-scale plane from inside the cockpit. I tried to talk him into flying it, but he wisely declined, because that isn’t something you should try to do alone, until you are properly trained, unless you just want to waste your investment of $500+.

Nevertheless, seeing that airplane taxi around the tarmac at the A.M.A. Headquarters made me realize that I was now hooked and would somehow get involved with R/C flying.

After returning to Jefferson City, not much later in 1991, while I was working for the News Tribune, I was out looking for something to take a picture of for the paper. I came across the Jefferson City Radio Control Club Flying Site located near Binder Lake. I noticed that there were several cars parked along the road and lots of activity so I decided to stop and take a look around.

The group seemed friendly enough, they didn’t exactly come over to greet me with open arms, but they didn’t run me off either. Most of the guys were busy attending to their R/C airplanes. There was one guy who seemed to be particularly nice. He came up and introduced himself as “Charlie” (Little). He and I talked about his airplane which looked very similar to the one Dad owned. He told me all he could about the hobby, how to get started, where to find the best deals since we didn’t have a hobby shop in our area at that time. I told him that my Dad had given me a Tower Hobbies catalog and I was thinking about purchasing my first R/C plane and I asked for his suggestions, which turned out to be exactly the same advice my Dad had given me. Of course, I had no way on knowing it at the time, but this was the beginning of one of the best friendships I would ever have, in fact, this friendship had a very special meaning as we shared our common interest of aviation. Charlie would soon become my best “Flying Friend” which, you may not fully understand unless you’re involved in the hobby.

That day Charlie showed me what kind of a person he really was as he took his purple and white Goldberg Eagle up to altitude and flew it around, showing me how to make it fly and turn properly and then, even without the safety of using a “Trainer Box”, he trusted me enough to ask if I would like to try flying his plane. At first I hesitated, because I certainly didn’t want to harm his airplane, but at the same time there was nothing on the planet I wanted to do more than fly that purple Goldberg Eagle. He said that he was sure everything would be fine and assured me that he would be right there to take over in case something went wrong and he insisted that I give it a try.

I will never forget the rush of adrenaline and the excitement I felt as I flew Charlie’s airplane. At that point a bond was formed that I believe will last throughout the eternities. A “Flying Friendship” had begun. I rushed home to call Dad to tell him about the experience.

Thanks to Charlie, there was no doubt about being hooked on R/C now. From this point onward, with a huge amount of assistance from my Dad and Charlie, I built my first R/C airplane which was a Tower (Hobbies) Trainer 40. It was very similar in size and shape to those owned by both of them.

Charlie was there from the start to help me learn how to prepare, then take-off, fly and land my new airplane. He saved it on several occasions from certain doom. Additionally when something would happen to my plane, Charlie was there to lend a helping hand with the repairs. I am amazed at how good Charlie could build model airplanes. Charlie had a unique ability that most modelers don't possess. He was a talented builder AND a talented pilot. In general, if the person is a good builder, they don't tend to be able to fly that well and conversely if the person flies well, they probably have a lot to learn about building, but Charlie could do both very well. All of his planes are straight and true. We spent countless hours in his basement workshop building or fixing R/C airplanes. It felt like home whenever I was there. He would always have a huge supply of cans of Diet Coke to offer.

As I became a more proficient flyer, one thing that we both enjoyed doing with our planes was flying “the circuit”. In other words we would take-off, climb up to landing pattern altitude, level off, then immediately start into the landing pattern to attempt a “touch-and-go” where we would land the plane, then, almost immediately, push the throttle forward to accelerate to take-off again, repeating the cycle over and over, flying in a race-track pattern. We would shoot touch-and-go’s one after another right behind each other, taking turns. At times there would be three or four of us falling into this routine of practicing our landings. We would easily do 100 touch-and-go’s during a flying session. It took good timing and precision to do this in an orderly fashion without overtaking the guy in front or landing on top of his plane if he didn’t successfully execute the take-off after landing. There are days that God made just for this activity – those perfect blue sky days with puffy white clouds, little or no wind so that we could land and take-off in either direction with cool temperatures and cold sodas. Just thinking about it carries me away as I see our planes flying around and around “the circuit” in my mind. Of course this exercise made us better pilots as we advanced to more difficult-to-fly airplanes, after all, the most critical part of any flight is a successfully executed landing.

Charlie trusted me. He trusted my ability to fly probably better than I trusted it. Of course I took flying his (or anyone else’s) airplanes very seriously because I didn’t want to be responsible for the demise of his airplane. You can imagine the pressure, the thrill, the terror, the exhilaration of your best Flying Friend handing you the controls of his brand new $2000 Ultimate Biplane with an engine large enough to power a chainsaw up front. This pushed my abilities, but his confidence in me made me believe that I could do it - and I did!

We drove all the way down to the Vichy (Rolla) airport to test fly this beautiful red, white and blue mammoth, because we wanted to make sure we had enough wide-open spaces in case something went wrong and at the time our Jeff City R/C runway was only 150 feet long, but the abandoned runway at the Vichy airport used to handle Douglas DC-3’s, so there was all kinds of open room down there.

We learned the trials of large-scale gas-powered flight together and had a great time doing it. Both of us had our jaws dropped to the ground in awe as I pulled that Ultimate through loops, rolls and high-speed passes with the smoke switch turned on and a steady stream of thick white smoke belching out of the muffler of the plane against a deep blue sky. We might as well have been translated into heaven because it just couldn’t get any better than that day! 

Then the plane started acting a little funny, so we immediately decided to try to get it down in one piece. This is where all that practice came together as I found myself (along with Charlie talking me through it) in some kind of a “zone” as we brought the plane in. First setting up our downwind leg, flying parallel to the runway in the same direction as the wind. Then turning a left hand base once I had gone deep enough for a perfect approach. Both of us had maximum “pucker factor” as the plane continued to unexplainably bobble when I was NOT moving the controls in that direction! Once again I had control at exactly the moment I needed to turn for the final approach

Again, relying on the many hundreds of touch-and-go’s I knew how to control the plane with the rudder when the ailerons weren’t working properly. She was coming in nicely, but I kept seeing it as a huge “$2000 flying dollar bill” so I tried to stay one step ahead as it approached. One more bobble, as the left wing tip started to drop, but quickly corrected. Muscles were tense as I continued to guide this missile towards the threshold of the runway knowing that if we could just keep it flying straight for 3 or 4 more seconds, then we would be home free. The flare for the landing was also causing the plane to inexplicably bank to one side, but was quickly fixed with a combination of rudder and aileron, which turned into a perfect main-gear wheels-down landing. It rolled out a long distance down that abandoned runway as I continued to hold full up elevator to keep it from nosing over. Finally we could relax our muscles because it was down and the engine was purring like a kitten as the plane sat out there gleaming in the sun after it’s first flight. We high-five’d each other and went to investigate.

We quickly learned that heaven was indeed watching over us that day. First of all Charlie made the wise decision of installing a servo for both elevator halves when most people, at that time, only used one. That paid off big time since one of the two servos had failed during the flight. The elevator on an airplane is supposed to make it pitch (raise or lower the direction of the nose), but since only one half of the elevator was working properly, this was causing the plane to roll as well as pitch as I tried to pull up. To top it off, the on/off switch of the plane had all but disintegrated during the flight and the plane was actually shutting off during the flight, but luckily staying connected just enough that we didn’t lose power. We learned an important lesson about vibration and that huge engine up front. We were also getting radio interference from the ignition system. So there you have it, there were three things, any one of which could have caused catastrophic failure, but God smiled down on us and saved the day. I was just glad to be there and to be a part of it, another perfect day with my best flying friend.

Charlie and I found ourselves interested in the same types of airplanes. We even bought the same kits together, then Charlie would take the time to build both of them! One that comes to mind was called a “Diamond Unlimited” fun-fly airplane. The sales video looked great and the reviews were good, but after all of Charlie’s hard work, mine only lasted two flights before the components in the airplane failed and his didn’t last much longer, but we learned more valuable lessons about vibration and it helped us gain experience.

After Charlie had stopped flying his Goldberg Eagle, he agreed to sell it to me. So now I was the owner of the very first R/C airplane I had ever flown!! What an honor! I loved to fly that plane whenever I could. I modified it some by turning it into a tow-plane for R/C Sailplanes. We also made a piggy-back platform to carry the sailplanes up, then release them at altitude. I loved that Eagle and had it for few years. 

Then Charlie needed a “kick-around” type airplane after he had sold off all but his big airplanes and he also wanted to be able to fly with his grandson, Jeffrey, so he asked me if I’d sell it back to him and, of course, I did. It was in need of some loving care, so he stripped the purple covering and refurbished the plane to a new glory in red, white and blue. He also added functional flaps to the wing to add to the excitement.  It looked absolutely brand new after he had refurbished it. Whenever he wanted something easier and simpler to fly, he would bring it out to the flying field. The Eagle, now sported a .53 four-stroke engine. As of 2003 that plane is 14 or 15 years old and is still in flying condition, but it had been collecting dust in Charlie’s basement for quite some time now.

It’s kind of ironic to think about it now looking back, but Charlie would always encourage me to lose weight. Being his friend, he was genuinely concerned about my health and didn’t want me to prematurely die of a heart attack, after all, no one wants to lose a friend, especially such a good friend. For varying reasons, I sort of fell away from flying R/C airplanes and I did just that; I started losing weight, however it was at a huge cost, because the weight loss required exorbitant amounts of my time. So little-by-little I slowly stopped flying R/C planes for a period of about two years and during that time, even though we had occasional conversations, Charlie and I lost contact with each other. I always considered him one of my very best friends, even though we didn't talk that often. My weight loss hurt a lot of my friendships, but I didn’t have a choice if I wanted to remain thin, it required almost all of my time and energy.

Charlie felt he had done something to offend me, my wife and I both tried to convince him that it wasn’t the case, and I openly admit that the failing of our friendship was entirely my fault, not his, but ironically I was doing what he had encouraged me to do so many times before.

Then one day I received the news – Charlie was in the hospital! He had fallen down in his house and severely broke his leg. He was taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital and shortly afterwards it would be discovered that the reason Charlie’s leg broke the way it did was because he had an enormous cancer tumor in the bone of his leg and sadly they went on to discover that he already had cancer in his lungs and brain. This was shocking and devastating news. Charlie had just retired in his late 50’s after working 21+ years for the Missouri Department of Corrections, he appeared to be in great health, and no one expected this news.

Now I felt especially guilty because I wasn’t there when he probably needed me the most. Even though I wanted to come around I foolishly felt that it might not be appropriate. Every once in a while I would receive word about Charlie from other acquaintances and they would tell me how he was doing. Then out-of-the-blue Charlie called me! I guess time and your outlook on life allows you to overcome the stupidity of others. So here he was extending an olive branch that I certainly wasn’t going to refuse. By now I was getting burnt out on the weight loss maintenance and I wanted to be there for my friend in his time of need, because he had always been there for me. We conversed on the phone several more times and he would give me updates on his progress or sometimes the disappointing news about relapses.

During one of our conversations Charlie mentioned that he was thinking about selling some of his airplanes, in particular, a Lanier Giant Stinger that he built. Again, this airplane is very dear to my heart because, back when we were flying it together, Charlie trusted me to be the test pilot and he would almost always ask me to land it for him. He had no idea what an honor it was for me to be able to land his airplane, what a thrill! Luckily all successful. It is a great flying airplane.

By this time the plane had been sitting in his basement for nearly two years without being touched. That isn’t good on these airplanes. The batteries go dead, the engines can lock up, the glue starts to weaken, they need to be maintained or, like anything, they deteriorate. I didn’t want to seem opportunistic, but at the same time, I really wanted to get this airplane from Charlie, if nothing else (and more than anything), for sentimental reasons. He also knew that for a long while to come, he probably wouldn’t be in good enough health to take this huge airplane out to the flying field. He decided to keep his Eagle and sell me the Giant Stinger. I couldn’t have been more thrilled.

We made arrangements and I went to his house in early June 2003 to see him again for the first time in close to two years. Of course I was somewhat apprehensive, I mean, here I was, somewhat overweight again after nearly ruining our friendship because of the weight loss problem and this would also be the first time I had seen him since he had been diagnosed with cancer and the subsequent treatments and medications and we know that there is nothing kind about cancer and it makes you old before your time.

Charlie certainly looked older and weaker than his 62 years, but I could still see the sincerity in the eyes of my dear old flying friend. We laughed, we cried, we caught up on time passed. He told me to go down and take a look at the plane, because he wasn’t strong enough to go down in the basement with me. I felt something like a criminal looking around in Charlie’s basement without Charlie being there. It made the feeling all the more surreal as a flood of memories rushed over me standing next to the bench where we spent so many hours together working on planes, laughing and playing. Now it was dark, quiet, dusty and lonely. It was hard to keep from crying as I realized the battle that my friend was going through and coming to the realization that he may very well be on the landing pattern of his life, heading towards final approach. Of course, whether or not we want to acknowledge it, all of us are heading to that point. For all I know, I will die in a car accident tomorrow or suddenly die of a heart attack this evening, but it would appear that Charlie was getting closer to that point than any of us cared to admit or accept.

Signs of the master builder could be seen throughout the workshop. He had begun construction of another Lanier Stinger. This one is a "120 size" which is slightly smaller, but still large enough to have an 80 inch wingspan. It is still sitting on his workbench, partially finished, now covered in dust. His beautifully restored red, white and blue Goldberg Eagle was now covered in 1/16^th of an inch of dust and it looked brown and lackluster. Of course any good modeler can look past the dust, get out a bottle of Windex and restore them, but it was so sad to see these models sitting still and lifeless on a basement shelf, especially when it hadn't been all that long ago we were out at the field flying them and having such a great time..

I found most of the components of the Giant Stinger because I had been down there so many times before, but I couldn’t stand being down there any longer and I went back upstairs to be with him. I reported that everything seemed to be in order. It would need some restoration work, but was still in great condition. He encouraged me to take it then, but I said I would wait until I had the money together and that would also give me an excuse to come back and see him again and I just didn't want to go back down in that basement that day, it drained my emotions.

The next time I went to see Charlie was about two weeks later; in addition to the money, I took my little electric R/C "GWS Slow Stick" to show him. Flying electric planes is 50 times more convenient than flying gas-powered planes because you don’t have to mess with the fuel, the mixture valves and you don’t have to haul 3/4 tons of support equipment to the field. I love all my R/C planes, but the convenience of electric is so nice plus you can fly it in nearly any open area the size of a baseball field.

I wanted to see if this would get the spark of R/C flying back in Charlie's eyes and in his heart. This was all new to him, but he was very excited and interested in trying it, but he was too weak to go out that day. He sold me the Giant Stinger that day and I reluctantly loaded it in my van, once again feeling much like a thief, but knowing full well that Charlie would probably never be able to carry this huge airplane from the basement of his house to his truck. However, I left with the knowledge that - if and when - he would ever get to the point where he was healthy enough to fly it again; I wanted to make sure that I was the one who had this plane to give back to him whenever he was ready for it.

We agreed to try to fly the electric plane as soon as he felt up to going. Then on June 17th, God gave Charlie and I another hand-picked special flying day. Very much like the one down at Vichy, but this time, the rolls were somewhat reversed. I called Charlie to let him know that I was going to go out to fly the electric GWS Slow Stick and I wanted to know if he wanted to come along. My offer was absolutely sincere, but I wasn’t confident that he would feel up to going. Due to the medications he was taking he hadn’t left the house in months, except to go to the doctor’s office. He also had a very difficult time walking. He was easily worn out, but when I asked him if he wanted to go flying, he said, “Yes!”

I was so thrilled to hear this! I think his wife, Betty, was just as amazed as I was, but I assured her that I would take good care of him. I got over there as quick as I could so that he wouldn’t change his mind, furthermore I had a feeling that a special moment awaited both of us.

The medication was making his feet and ankles swell up and it took us a while to get his shoes on him, but I didn’t care, I would have stayed there all day helping him if it meant that we were going to get to go flying together again. Just walking to the van was a major accomplishment for him, but he made it and you could see the excitement on his face, despite the pain he was going through to get there.

That evening we loaded up in the van and we headed out to the flying field like so many times before. Our mutual friend and fellow club member, Chris Byrd, was also there waiting to help. Chris and Charlie attended the same Church together as well.

It was an absolutely beautiful evening here in Missouri. Perfect temperature, not a breath of wind, blue skies with the occasional white puffy cloud above, it looked like it was hand picked by God Himself. We helped Charlie get out of the van and we set him up in a comfortable lawn chair with drinks and a good view of the flying field. He loved it! He had on his trademark red St. Louis Cardinals “lucky baseball hat” like he always wore to the flying field in the past. Be it a superstition or a joke, we never flew a new plane unless Charlie had his “lucky hat” on! Despite being a little weaker, he suddenly transformed into the Charlie I’ve always known. You couldn’t tell he was sick from cancer. With his lucky hat on you couldn’t even tell he had lost some of his hair due to his illness. His eyes sparkled like stars; his smile went from ear-to-ear. He was breathing fully & deeply and for a brief period of time all of his troubles, his worries, his concerns and fears were gone. This was a different man than the one I had seen sitting on the back porch of his house during the last few visits. This was once again my best flying friend, Charlie Little!

If he said it to me once, he said it a hundred times, he said; “Shaun, you have no idea what this means to me!” I was so grateful to hear those words. More than anything I wanted him to forget what he was going through and remember one of the reasons he loved being alive.

We got the airplane out of the car and prepared it for flight. We cleared our frequency and turned on the transmitter. We plugged in the battery pack and set the plane at the threshold of the runway. Even though it is a small (and frankly, ugly) electric plane it seemed to sit there majestically proud as it was about to embark on the greatest flight it would ever fly. I hooked the “trainer (or sometimes called a "buddy") cord” to the master transmitter and set the trims. Ironically, Charlie was apprehensive as I handed him the transmitter to my airplane, he said that he didn’t want to hurt it, but I knew (from that very first meeting back in 1991) that there was nothing else on earth he would rather do than fly that airplane.

He once trusted me with a $2000 airplane that took him months to build and now he felt uncomfortable flying this little $150 electric plane that took me about 4 hours to build. I tried to convince him that he could do it and I believe my confidence in him made him believe that he could do it, just like he had helped me when I was about to fly his Ultimate biplane. I didn’t care if he planted it straight into the ground; I wanted him to have the opportunity to fly again. I assured him that it didn’t matter what happened to the plane, I knew everything would be fine. I knew that God was watching over us this night just like He did those special days so many years ago.

After explaining the controls and what to expect from the plane, I handed Charlie the “trainer box” transmitter and said, “Here you go, buddy, have a good time!” I pushed the trainer switch over to give him full control and said; “You’ve got it!”

At that moment I saw the Charlie I’ve always known, the same one who I used to shoot 100+ touch-and-go’s with, the same one  I’ve shared countless R/C flying experiences with. He took the throttle control and slowly advanced it forward and it was as if the little Slow Stick knew exactly what to do. With authority Charlie took the plane off the runway, into the sky and flew around for about 20 minutes completely escaping all pain and fear – he was soaring free from the bondage of cancer and the joy of flying filled his eyes, his heart and soul. At the end of the flight, Charlie set the plane up in a perfect landing pattern.. He setup on his downwind leg, turned into base, then set up for a perfect final approach, all while seated in a lawn chair and was able to land the plane all by himself right down the centerline of the runway.

I could see that he was ecstatic and horrified at the same time. He hadn’t flown in almost 2 years. Just like me, when I had finished flying his Ultimate biplane for the first time; Charlie was shaking, but smiling from ear-to-ear. There was another high-five given  between best flying friends. I could easily see that he was taken away in the adrenalin rush of flying. Unless you’re involved in R/C flying you’ll probably never understand the feeling a man gets when he’s out flying these model airplanes, but I do know how it feels and for the first time in a long time Charlie was able to feel it again. 

Considering that for the past several months all he had been feeling was mostly pain, I felt really good about taking him out there. While that flight gave a lot to Charlie, it also took a lot out of him and he wasn’t able to stand much more as he requested that I take him back home. As we were getting ready to leave I could see big tears welling up in his eyes and he thanked me again for taking him out there. Charlie, this doesn’t even begin to pay you back for all the great times we’ve had together at the flying field, I received just as much benefit from this flight as you did. Then we went through the process of getting him back in the van and back to his house.

Charlie enjoyed flying that little Slow Stick so much that he wanted to get one for himself right away. He wanted to give me the money for one right then, but I declined and told him that he could pay me back after it arrived. I wasted no time getting Bo Peters of Mid-Mo Hobby Shop to order him one.

In the meantime, Charlie experienced a set back in his recovery. They found more cancer in his spine and it was causing him great pain and they told him that if he didn't get it removed, he would soon be paralyzed. So Betty & Charlie made the decision to go ahead and have back surgery done in hopes of getting rid of the back pain he was experiencing, additionally he was already to the point that he could no longer walk. He was in the operating room for 7 hours as they reconstructed his back and removed all of the cancer they could reach. Charlie was in the Intensive Care unit for 3 days, before they finally started moving him down to the general hospital floors.

The plane and accessories arrived a short time later. I started to put it together over the extended weekend of July 4th. Having already assembled one previously I was able to correct some of the things I didn’t like about the original. Since my wife & kids were visiting their family in Spain, I stayed up late listening to the sounds of fireworks around the neighborhood as I assembled Charlie's own GWS Slow Stick electric plane. It didn’t take too long to have everything completed and ready to test fly.

The morning of July 5th, another great, mutual friend, Harvey Schmidt and his family, came over to visit me and even though there was a little more wind than I would prefer, I wanted to make sure everything was working properly before I took the new little plane to Charlie, so Harvey steadied the video camera as we flew the plane around the open field next to my house. Despite the winds the plane flew great. I was able to correct the trims and now it was ready to deliver to Charlie.

So, later that same day I loaded everything up in the car and my Mom also accompanied me as we headed towards room 360 of St. Mary’s Hospital. There were some raised eyebrows as I made my way through the halls of the hospital carrying the fully assembled plane to his room, but I didn’t care. There was also the comment from a young boy we passed by, who said; “Oh, COOL!” That comment reaffirmed to me that it’s "the kid" in us that makes us love this hobby so much and I was hoping that Charlie would have much the same reaction as the kid..

Of course the greatest amount of satisfaction came as I entered into Charlie’s room with his new plane and to see the look on his face was worth way more than any amount of time I spent building the plane. Instantly Charlie was transformed from a sick hospital patient with cancer, to a boy-hearted man, full of dreams of flying his new machine and smiling from ear-to-ear. From that moment on, I could tell that this little plane would be a driving force in helping him want to get out of that hospital as soon as possible. I could see and feel his excitement as he asked questions about the plane and daydreamed about the time we’d get to go out and fly it together.

Little-by-little Charlie was getting better and they transferred him to a rehabilitation center to start to learn to stand up and walk again. He was happier to be out of the hospital, but he still didn’t like his imprisonment in the rehab center. On July 18th I went by to visit him after work. His super-dedicated wife, Betty, was still there, she had been there all day and my arrival was a good excuse for her to finally get a chance to take a break and return home.

Charlie wanted to get out of that rehab facility so bad that Betty decided to take him home on Monday, July 21st. To tell you the truth, after seeing him that night, I almost wondered if they were not letting him go home because he’d probably be more comfortable dying in his home than in the rehab center. It appeared to me that he was having a very difficult time breathing. He said he wasn't, but his chest was going up and down as if he had just ran 2 miles. He also told me that overall he just felt weaker all the time and that he wasn't getting any stronger. He also said that one of the reasons he wanted to go home was so that he could have the opportunity go fly his new airplane. I honestly believe that the thought of flying that plane was keeping him motivated and alive.

I could tell that he had been thinking about it, because he asked me if I could bring some different decals for the wings than what was included with the plane. I told him that the next time I went to visit him that I would bring all of the decals I had so that he could pick out whatever he liked. Then he started crying and said that he couldn't believe that he had such good friends. Of course I started crying too and told him that I was only being the friend that he had been for me so many times before. He said that he never felt that way, and I assured him that it was true.

I’d give anything if there was something I could do to help him. Charlie's son-in-law, Robert Taylor, had already set up ramps in his house so that they could easily get the wheelchair in, around and out of the house. I told him I'd take him flying just as soon as he felt like he wanted to go. He had already been thinking about how he was going to get in and out of the van and I said, "Don't worry, we'll go in the car which will be easier to get in and out of and if I have to carry you there, I will." He soon got tired and wanted to go to bed even though it was only 6:00 P.M.

As planned, Charlie was taken home on Monday, July 21st. As soon as I got off work I headed over to visit him with a myriad of decals for him to sort through. He picked out a red & white checkerboard pattern for the underside of the wing, but neither of us liked anything I had for the top of the wing, so we decided that a black & yellow checkerboard pattern might look good on the top, therefore we got that ordered right away and made plans to return on Wednesday, July 23rd, to finish detailing the plane.

On Wednesday I returned to Charlie’s house with a good friend and co-worker of mine, who, oddly enough, was once a good friend and co-worker of Charlie as well. His name is Dale Ellis. He’s a Computer Technician with the Missouri Dept of Conservation and he used to work as a Corrections Officer with Charlie. The two of them together had a reputation of being the best team at finding illegal drugs within the prison. They shared lots of memories together as I cleaned up Charlie’s Goldberg Eagle, which once again looked shiny and new. Dale helped me cut out the trim that we were adding to Charlie’s GWS Slow Stick.

The weather during the past two days was marvelous. Not too hot, just right. I told Charlie if Thursday held the same weather we could try to go flying. He agreed.

On Thursday, July 24, 2003, prior to leaving work I called Charlie and asked him if he still wanted to go flying because I had everything loaded up. He said, “Yes!” So I went over to his house somewhat concerned about how I was going to get two planes, four transmitter boxes, and a wheelchair in the Cavalier station wagon. However my worries were unwarranted because his son, Michael, and son-in-law, Robert Taylor were ready to go along to help. It was great. Mike loaded Charlie into my car. They loaded the wheelchair in the back of their truck and after getting some drinks we headed out to the flying field.

While the temperatures weren’t bad, there was still a significant wind blowing, which makes it somewhat more difficult to fly these little GWS Slow Sticks because they only weigh about 1 pound fully loaded, so they are pushed around by the wind, but I felt we had better try to fly as soon as possible in case Charlie started to get fatigued. The nurse from Hospice had just given him an extra dose of pain medicine before we left and that usually makes a person drowsy.

We lined Charlie up next to one of the new benches at the field, so that he could have his drinks handy. We sat my airplane on the threshold of the runway. I had the “buddy box” hooked up so that I could help him if necessary. We turned on the transmitter, plugged in the battery pack. I pushed the trainer switch over to the student position and said, “Charlie, you’ve got it!”

Charlie slowly advanced the throttle forward, then gunned it and he was off and flying. He was also smiling again! With that trademark, lucky red Cardinals baseball hat, it sure seemed like old times again. The wind was giving Charlie a hard time and it had been a while since he had flown. I had to take it a couple of times, but that was to be expected.

He was flying along and I wanted to make sure the guys were getting some pictures of him, so I turned my head briefly to help them turn on the camera. When I looked away for a few seconds, the wind had caught the plane and it was in a very steep dive, going straight for the ground. Charlie yelled, “Take it!” but by the time I looked up and saw what was going on I barely had enough time to start to pull out of the dive.

It started to come out of the dive before it hit, but it did do a bit of a “belly-flop” which broke the propeller and one of the strobe lights broke off, but there wasn’t really any damage to the plane other than it bent the prop shaft ever so slightly, however it didn’t affect the performance of the plane. We pulled the propeller off of his plane and put it on mine and we were back in business. We decided that we would wait a few minutes to see if the wind would lie down a little all the while hoping and praying that his strength to be there would be sustained..

It was inspirational to watch as his son, Michael, was doing all he could to make his Dad comfortable. It was Thursday, which is “Trainer Night” at the flying field, so several club members and students started to show up. One-by-one most of them greeted Charlie and welcomed him back. Wiley Moore was already there, setup to fly his Goldberg Falcon 56. Rick Taylor came by and talked with him for a while. Even though he had other obligations, Chris Byrd came by to help and offer assistance with the battery packs and anything else he could do to make Charlie’s visit more pleasant. Brian Nutt, John Dussold and others came by to visit him as well. I was grateful to each of them for their support and help.

Charlie’s other son-in-law, Stephen, helped save the flying session by bringing out two more things to make the evening a success. One was pain pills; the other was Charlie's grandson, Christopher. Once Charlie took one of the pain pills, he was fine again. He wanted Christopher to try to fly the plane. In fact, Michael and Stephen both flew it as well and you could see the joy Charlie was feeling as members of his family flew his plane. As the evening wore on, the winds continued to diminish and Charlie was able to get in one more really good flight and the best part of the flight was when I asked him if he wanted to land the plane and he said, “Yes!”

So one more time Charlie took command of the plane and started on his downwind leg. During earlier flights Charlie was having trouble keeping the plane from flying past the safety fence, but as he brought it around on the base leg of this landing, he lined it up perfectly for his final descent. He glided it right down the runway and kept perfect control as the little plane ‘crabbed’ into the wind. He held a perfect glide angle until he was at the exact height to start to flare. He eased back on the stick and continued to slow the plane only inches off the ground as it settled in for a perfect two-wheel landing right on the center line of the runway. All in our entourage let out a congratulatory yell as he landed.

I was knelt down on the ground next to him so that we could talk to each other throughout the flight and to make sure that I could hear him as he spoke. After he landed, I looked over at him and said, “That was all you buddy, great landing!” He then said, “It was?!" "Oh Shaun, you have no idea what this means to me!” I said, “Charlie, it means just as much to me to have you here and anytime you want to come out, you just let me know.” I asked, “Do you want to fly again, now that the wind has died down?” He said, “No, I’d better go now.” It was as if he had done what he had set out to do. One more perfect final landing and now he was content to return home.

Of course, I didn’t want the evening to end, because in my heart I felt a premonition that Charlie might not ever make it back out to the flying field, but we observed his wishes and loaded him and the equipment into the vehicles and proceeded to take him home. On the way there he thanked me again for such a wonderful evening and again I let him know how much I cared for him and how much it meant to me to be flying with my best flying friend again. 

Michael, being of large stature, picked his Dad up out of my car and placed him gently in the wheelchair. Charlie was worn out physically, but was all smiles as we said our good-byes. I headed off promptly, not wanting them to see the tears as I contemplated the new memories made that evening, the past memories of previous flying sessions, and the thought of seeing him die.

Not even a week had gone by, when on July 29, 2003, I returned home late from a wonderful evening of racing R/C Cars at the Cole County Fair to listen to a surprising and frightening message on my answering machine from Charlie’s wife, Betty, who said; “Shaun, this is Betty, Chuck’s wife. I just wanted to call and tell you that, umm, they have pretty well given up on him, they think that his body is starting to shut down, I just thought that you would want to know. Talk to you later. Bye” Of course I didn’t get home until 12:30 A.M. that evening and even though I desperately wanted to call for an update on his condition, I decided to wait until the next morning.

I talked to Betty at 7 A.M. to try to get a report. I felt bad because I woke her up, she had been up until 3 A.M. just trying to keep him comfortable and trying to get him to drink something. She wasn’t even sure if he was alive or not when I called, but while I was still on the phone, she went to check on him and he was still breathing. She said that he had really gotten worse over the last two days. She also told me about the fact that last Thursday at the Flying Field, Charlie had said, “Well, I finally got to do the one thing that I really wanted to do.” As if that trip to the flying field, was indeed, one of the few things giving him the will to go on fighting and staying alive. What a huge honor it was for me to take my best “Flying Friend” out to that field one last time so that he could participate in the activity that had brought us so much camaraderie and good times.

On Tuesday morning, July 29, 2003, I went over to Charlie’s house, not knowing what to expect, not even sure if he would be alive or deceased. I still had his GWS Slow Stick in my possession from our flying session last Thursday. I had taken it to my house so that I could finish applying the decals to the wings and replace the missing propeller. It was now finished and ready to return back to Charlie. However, I now knew, without a doubt, that Charlie would never get another chance to fly his plane.

I entered the house and Betty told me that he was alive, but sleeping. So she escorted me back to where he was in bed. His breathing was very labored, yet very shallow.. I could hear that distinct rattling sound in his breathing. I didn’t want to wake him, but at the same time I wanted more than anything to be able to talk to him one last time before it was too late.

I don’t know if he sensed my presence, or if God wanted to fulfill my wishes, but at that moment Charlie woke up! He opened his eyes and I think I may have startled him a little standing there next to his bed, but he was quickly put at peace as I began talking to him and I have no doubt that he knew who I was. He tried to lift his arms, but barely had the strength to lift his own hands, so I held him by the hand and let him know that I came over to see him. I asked him if there was anything I could get him to make him more comfortable, but he couldn’t respond, being even too weak to talk. He tried to cough, but even that was more than his strength would allow, yet I was also grateful for the chance to tell him what a wonderful friend he had been. He had his eyes open, but seemed to be staring out into a distant land as if he were looking over a new location that he had never seen before. As I lowered my head so that I was directly in his view, I could see that we had made eye contact and I said, “You have no idea how much I’m going to miss you.” Still he had a mostly blank stare on his face, but his eyes sparkled as if to say the same thing. I then thanked him for going flying with me last Thursday and I continued by saying, “I fixed up your airplane and I brought it back today.” Despite the pain and the weakness – he smiled! At that point I knew he could hear me, I knew he was there even though his body was too weak to do anything other than smile. It was impossible for me to hold back the tears and I told him; “When you get up there you build us a good flying field!" and he squeezed my hand.

I asked him if he wanted water or ice or anything, but there was no response. I told him I was going to get Betty to let her know that he was awake, but even though I only stepped out of the room a short moment, by the time we got back to his room, he was already asleep again and during the time I was there, he didn’t wake back up.

I visited and cried with Betty, who again told me how extremely happy Charlie was that Thursday night after flying; she said, "It was all he could talk about." I returned to work later that morning with the bittersweet knowledge that the next time I would see him, he would be gone, but I don’t think there are too many friends who have had that unique opportunity to make amends, say farewell and express appreciation for each other like we were afforded.

I am comforted by the fact that he’s no longer suffering as he goes off to a place of eternal blue skies, with light winds that always blow in the direction of the runway and soft landings or maybe that's just too damn boring, perhaps it's a place where you have a real-life "reset-button" like you have on an R/C simulator here on earth. A button that allows you to reset your airplane back to flying condition, no matter how hard it comes down, now that would be fun! Better yet, perhaps it's a place of rest, where hopefully the feelings we shared while flying our airplanes (or running full speed in his boat) are ever present. Now when I look up at my planes in the sky, I know I’ll be looking up to a place where God and Charlie are located, perhaps that’s what makes this hobby so special after all; at least during the time we are flying, we are looking towards heaven. Charlie, your last flight was your best and thanks for being my Flying Friend!

Charles R. Little, Jr. was born on December 5, 1940 in Detroit, Michigan, and he died of complications with cancer at 3:00 A.M. on July 30, 2003 , at the age of 62 in his home located in Jefferson City, Missouri.

(Added 9/26/2003) As a working, active photojournalist, I have had pictures published in magazines and newspapers all around the world, including Newsweek, Life, New York Times. I have run into people who have told me how my photographs have somehow touched their lives. I have seen my pictures in some very unique locations, but one of the biggest honors I have ever received was when I was told by Michael Little, Charlie's son, that the family has decided to have the photo (above) of Charlie in his boat, engraved on his tombstone. I didn't even know that could be done! That is better than any of the National Awards I have ever won! Here is what it looks like (see inset in the photo on the left);

Also, besides the honor of the engraved photos, Betty Little, widow of Charlie, in an extremely unselfish act of kindness, presented me with one of the most sentimental, touching gifts I have ever received! She allowed me to keep Charlie's Goldberg Eagle - that very first R/C plane I ever had the opportunity to fly. This is something, that even with my bad memory, no matter how old I get, I will NEVER forget. Thank-you Betty!

The following is Charlie's obituary as published in the Jefferson City News Tribune on July 31, 2003.

Charles R. "Charlie" Little, Jr., age 62 years, of Jefferson City , MO , died Wednesday, July 30, 2003 at his home.

He was born December 5, 1940 in Detroit , MI , the son of Charles R., Sr. and Isabelle Quinn Little, both deceased. He was married in 1963 in Austin , TX , to Barbara A. Douglas who preceded him in death in 1972. On September 9, 1972 , in Austin , TX , he married Betty A. Mauzy who survives at the home.

He graduated from Lincoln Park High School , Lincoln Park , MI . He also attended Lincoln University in Jefferson City , MO. He served in the United States Air Force from 1960 until 1964. He was employed by the Missouri Dept. of Corrections for twenty-one years, retiring as a captain at the Missouri State Penitentiary in May, 2000.

He was a member of the Capital City Christian Church and the J.C. Radio Controlled Club. He loved fishing as well as building and flying remote controlled planes. Other survivors include: two sons, Michael Little of Jefferson City, MO and Robert Little of Tampa, FL; two daughters, Kathy Taylor and Susan Noble, both of Holts Summit, MO; one sister, Patty Decker of Houston , TX ; one brother,, Peter Little of Walnut Creek, CA; 12 grandchildren and 1 great granddaughter.

Funeral services will be conducted at 10:00 a.m. , Friday, August 1, 2003 at the Capital City Christian Church with the Reverend John Tarbet officiating. Graveside services and interment with military honors will be conducted at Riverview Cemetery .

Friends may call at the Freeman Mortuary from 4:00 until 7:00 p.m. , Thursday. Those desiring may make memorial contributions to the Capital City Christian Church or the Missouri River Hospice. Funeral arrangements are under the direction of Freeman Mortuary.

The following is a comment received from Charlie's sister, Patty (Little) Decker;

Thank you for the beautiful tribute to my brother Charlie. Knowing that he had such good friends and great memories gives our family great comfort.