Friday morning October 23, 1998… I was at my workbench in the basement of our Annapolis townhouse tinkering with one of my lakeboat models. As a corporate pilot you normally don’t have a schedule, so at any time the phone can ring and you’re off to who knows where for who knows how long. Thus, the phone rang. It was the typical “how fast can you get to the airport?” call.
“Senator,” I told him, “I’m your captain today, and you don’t need to cancel anything. I can get you back on your jet schedule.”
As we walked out to the aircraft, I quietly told his aid that be ready to un-cancel those two stops, because we’d be back on the jet schedule.