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Greg (my instructor) and I made several touch and gos - much like many previous practice lessons. As usual, there was a pretty good crosswind and I was sweating bullets trying to wrestle the craft into submission. EVERY time I went to practice landings with Greg - there was a pretty good crosswind. I counted - 5 sessions - 5 days with crosswind. I learned to slip (after overcoming the feeling that I was dead each time I tried to slip) - it just didn't feel right, skidding sideways at a downward angle like that. Felt like you were about to die.

I was getting more confident, but solo was not on my mind. After a few loops around the patch, Greg had me take the taxiway back towards the FBO. On the last turn, he had me stop and he opened the door and got out. My first thought was that he had to take a leak and just could not wait. Then he stuck his head back inside and said "Ok, you're ready to do it". Huh? Then I realized what was happening. I was about ready to do it - in my pants! Me? Solo? Now??? Are you sure???? He assured me I had been doing the flying for some time - he was jsut watching. Off I went....As I taxied across to the runway, my mind was racing. I am in an aircraft - by myself. If I take the thing off the ground I - ME, have to get it down. Without killing myself. Lined up on the runway, I had announced my intentions and gave it the throttle. I had no concerns about takeoff - ANYONE can take off a plane. You need a pilot to get down.

Turning downwind for 18 at Olive Branch in that little Cessan 152, I thought to myself - this is amazing. I am in an airplane - in the air - by myself. I have to land it.... This is sounds so obvious but if you have never done it before, the freak factor is off the scale.

I did just as I was taught - lined up on the 45 with the numbers, called my intentions, flew coordinated turns, watched the VASI like it was a movie screen.

I kept my speed correct and eased it on the ground without problem or mis-step. I was a pilot! Two more touch and gos and it was over. They cut the back out of my t-shirt - a favorite t-shirt I would never have wore if I had known that was to be the day for the solo. I was proud on many later trips to the airport to point out my shirt hanging on the wall. The drawing Greg had made on the shirt made refernce to my struggles driving the plane with my feet - while on the ground. Turns out I was a pretty good pilot in the sky but could not park the thing at all....Still, one of the most exciting days of my life. My solo.