nothing like sticking a landing on the numbers.
A WWII pilot I knew, father of one of my best friends, was shot down twice and survived. Went on to run a crop duster, then got a job with a pipeline company who was bought out by Gulf Oil. He retired as the executive pilot for the Houston Hdq. Flew jets all over the world. Once in Allegany Airport, he radioed tower who said the temps were 34 degrees. He landed, the plane swapped ends, and slid to the very end of the runway stopping feet from going into the grass. They sent a trolley down to pick everyone up and one of the VPs on board said, "Nice flight Jim, except those last 15 seconds." When Big Jim retired, he never got into another plane to fly it.
Said he felt like he had used up all his luck. He flew commercial only or with a trusted friend flying the plane.
Because son Jimmy was a polio victim and suffered a palsy, he never had a license, but he could fly a plane. He loved airplanes and went with another friend at every opportunity, who was a commercial pilot for a local chicken company, then Southwestern Energy. The most beautiful flight I was on was from Boise City, OK to Guthrie, OK, in a company plane from a well, and there Brad came with Jimbo in tow, and picked me up and got me back to Siloam Springs after dark after a front had passed. We could see literally from Wichita, KS to Dallas on the horizon. Sadly, all three are gone. Big Jim was the last, living to his 90s. Jimbo died from the polio suffering heart problems at age 48. And Brad died in Texas when a wasp flew into a guy's car causing him to swerve into traffic. Brad had just turned 49 and died in College Station on a weekend jaunt on his Harley 15 years ago.