In spring 2009, I was in Glasgow with my (then) 12 year old son (already an aviation fanatic). We found ourselves next to the Police helipad by the river Clyde. While we were looking through the chain-link fence the pilot and another walked out to the chopper, got in and started up the engines. They took off, hovered at about 10 metres for a few seconds and then, inexplicably, landed again and shutdown.
I’m sure they had a good reason to do this, but, part of me likes to think that they were putting on a little show for an excited 12 year old (and his dad), that would be a very “Glasgow” thing to do.
Anyway, that 12 year old has now had four flying lessons, including one helicopter lesson (by all accounts, he’s a natural) and is off to the states in January to start a college career that we hope will lead to a commercial pilots licence.
Why am I posting this now? Well, today, we’re shocked and saddened to hear that Scotland’s only Police helicopter (this one?) crashed last night into a busy Pub in the city centre. There were three crew on board and likely over 100 people in the pub.
That visit in 2009 was my last visit to my home town. I’m feeling a bit homesick tonight.