Flying Free

My grandfather, Dock O’Neal, passed away on Wednesday. He died peacefully in a nursing home, with my mom by his side. He was 92.

Growing up, I never lived more than 45 minutes away from my grandparents, so I got to see a lot of Grandma and Grandpa. They owned and operated O’Neal Upholstery, where I spent many hours as a little kid “helping” Grandpa in the back of the shop. Between his furniture upholstery tools and his woodworking tools, he always had something interesting for me to do with my hands. And he was always generous with his time, patiently teaching me how to take fabric off a sofa or make a simple wooden airplane.

Grandpa also made sure to scatter a couple of quarters in the parking lot of his shop before I came over. A quarter was a lot of money for a little kid back then, and I loved finding the quarters that his customers had “dropped.” It was years before I caught on to the fact that Grandpa was the one dropping them! When I was older, I made him a  card that said “A grandfather is a friend with quarters.” That card is still sitting on his desk at his house.

There’s one piece of advice Grandpa gave me that has always stuck with me. He told me once to find a career that I loved so that work would be something I enjoyed. He said that money and success are fine, but that they’re not as important as spending your time doing something that you like doing. I’ve tried to follow that advice in my career. Grandpa certainly loved what he did — the manual labor and craftsmanship required by upholstery, the interactions he had with clients all over Columbia, SC, and, most of all, working alongside his wife.

Grandma and Grandpa were married in 1950 and spent 62 years together before she passed in 2012. In my small group last month, during a series on love and marriage, we watched a sermon in which the speaker made the point that so many people in today’s culture don’t have examples of happy marriages that last a lifetime. That’s not me — I’ve always been glad I had Grandpa and Grandma’s example in my life. Grandpa was so devoted to his wife, and he cared for her in every way he knew how. They had their challenges, but their commitment to each other was inspiring.

I could say more, but for now I’ll link to his obituary, which details his military career, and share a profile of my grandfather that was printed in December 1991 in the newsletter of Owens Airport in Columbia, where Grandpa kept his Mooney airplane for many years. It’s very hard to say good-bye to Grandpa, but I know he had a long and happy life. This profile will give you a sense of that, I think!

Dock O’Neal
by Bob Cuzzort

Our first installment is done with one of our favorite people… Dock O’Neal. Dock is a regular at our activities and contributes greatly to the success of our organization through his love of flying and spirit of fellowship. He began flying in 1948 with the 11th Airborne Division and told me “The first airplane that I went up in, I jumped out of.” One of his duties was as an observer on an L-5 and he said the pilot would sit in the back seat and read a funny book while he let Dock fly anywhere that he wanted to go. Dock really enjoyed this duty and has been doing the very same thing ever since!

Dock retired from the Army and in 1962 he earned his private rating. He said he had wanted to fly since he was 6 years old (didn’t know they had airplanes when Dock was 6 years old!), and he and his father would go out to the local airfield and watch the J-3’s take off and dream of the day he would be able to fly.

One of the things that he loves best is “long cross country flights” and he wanted to travel around the country in an airplane. He has certainly taken plenty of those long cross country flights in his career and the childhood dreams have become a reality.

I asked Dock what he remembered about his first solo and he replied that it was “the greatest thrill anyone could have,” he said he felt “so free that it was just wonderful.” All of us who have had that experience can agree with him.  After 43 years of flying Dock still loves it, still loves the freedom, and still experiences the thrill every time he takes to the skies.

As most of you know, Dock owns a beautiful Mooney. He purchased it in 1974 and says that it has been a “member of the family” ever since. He takes tremendous pride in his airplane and has won Best of Series at the Mooney Homecoming three times! He won in 1984 and has taken the trophy home for the last two years in a row, quite an accomplishment when you are pitted against the best of the best.

It has been said, and it’s probably an understatement, that Dock spends about 5 hours cleaning his plane for every hour that he flies it. He has about 2500 hours in his Mooney, and with a little mental arithmetic you come up with the useless fact that he has probably cleaned off about 3 billion bugs!

Dock has his instrument ticket and his wife, Marge, says that he has a “wonderful way of calming passengers.” He has his own set of personal minimums and he sticks to them (which is probably why he is still flying 43 years later). He told me he had never been “scared” while flying… “There’s no time for that,” he says. “You just train and train and then you know what to do.” Dock still has a few things he would like to do in his flying career. One is to get a ride on the space shuttle… just to “sit and look out of the window.” Another dream of his is to “fly the Atlantic” and, knowing Dock, he just might do it! He also wanted to take a parachute jump on his recent 70th birthday but Marge, being the voice of prevailing reason, talked him out of it (thanks, Marge).

Dock O’Neal seems to be the perfect personification of general or “sport” aviation. He has an undying love for flying, a genuine interest in people, a deep seated sense of adventure, and an unyielding code of safety. His long flying career attests to the devotion he has for aviation and, for the many years that he will continue to fly, this devotion will only deepen. Next to his family, flying is his greatest love. He is what it is all about.

Keep flying, Grandpa. Be free.