A handwritten note slipped to me by Mr White a few months ago:
Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting ‘Holy ****…what a ride!
The man loved his flying and was bloody good at teaching it too...I remember his smile when he gently applied the right rudder every time I forgot to in a go-around. Never said a word about it - let his actions do the talking.
Respected and liked by all.
RIP.