The Crispy Priest
Juan G. Escobar
I remember marveling at an old black and white photo of my father, taken in a little airport in Medellin, when he was probably in his late teens or early twenties. That would mean, if my math is correct, that the image had been captured around 1949. In the picture, he is shirtless, and had just been doused with old motor oil. This was apparently a kind of local rite of passage among pilots and would-be pilots in that region. Novice pilots were baptized in old motor oil to commemorate their first solo flight.
My father had always been an aviation enthusiast. Sometime around the mid-seventies he finally decided that he would resume flying small planes like he had when he was a much younger man in Colombia.
I have no idea how it was that he met him, perhaps through some other Colombian expat living in southern California at the time, or maybe purely by chance.… Read the rest