Nomex
Misnomers
It’s not about the “look”
PILOTS HAVE A WELL-DEVELOPED
gene pool that provides some
with extraordinary insight and
understanding of practically
everything. You name the subject, and
if there is a pilot in the conversation,
opinions and conjecture will emerge
faster than a politician’s handshake.
This ability serves us quite well
as we wile away the hours and days
between flights. The behavior is
particularly acute when at an airport
surrounded by fellow pilots and
aviators, especially if they are younger
or less experienced. And if it’s raining
outside, hold on to your smartphones
because the sheer genius of pilots
seemingly accelerates.
Such was the case recently when
I diverted to Bloomington, Illinois, to wait out stormy weather
while on an IFR flight from St. Louis to OSH. We parked my T- 6 just
moments before the real rain started and ran for the comfort of the
FBO. Once inside we slipped off our Nomex flight suits and gloves,
hung them on the coat rack to dry, and parked ourselves in the comfy
chairs of the darkened pilots lounge, leaving the door open for just
enough light to do e-mails.
A few minutes later, we overheard some pilots talking in the
lobby about the two “geniuses” who just landed. The conversation
went something like this: “What are they doing flying that airplane
in this weather?” “Ha ha, they must think they are pretty cool dudes
wearing those ridiculous things.” Much laughter. “Yeah, what a
bunch of showoffs!”
My back seater and I were grinning at each other, enjoying our
mutual amusement as the subject of such a conversation as well as
being unseen ears. I thought, “This is just too rich an opportunity to
pass up.” I told him to sit tight and enjoy the next few minutes as I
popped out of my recliner.
The pilots naturally assumed the big guy who just walked to the
water cooler must have been in the restroom. Regardless, they didn’t
connect the dots. I struck up the normal, “Where are you heading
ROD HIGHTOWER
COMMENTARY / TOWER FREQUENCY
today and what are you flying?” conversation
and in short order ascertained three very
low-timers including a student and a CFI.
Just as I suspected, pilots. And it was raining.
Unable to contain my good-natured
sense of humor and adventure, I asked them
if they had seen those guys in the T- 6. The
answer came swiftly. “Oh yeah, and you
should have seen what they were wearing
too!” So I feigned ignorance as they extolled
their opinions of why some pilots wear flight
suits. And there it was for all to see—the
collective certainty of inexperience and
misunderstanding, times three.
So I shared with my fellow aviators what
my old friends who owned warbirds told me
about Nomex flight suits and why they wear
them. It’s not about the “cool” factor. Ever
wear one on a hot day sitting under a glass
canopy behind the firewall of an R-1340? The
word “cool” never crosses your mind. What
does come to mind are the years of survivable
airplane mishaps in which proper personal
safety gear played a starring role.
For example, during a fly-in, a Kitfox
lost control after a “high speed” pass,
crashing into a taxiing BT- 13. The Kitfox’s
left wing sliced through the canopy just
aft of the Vultee pilot’s head and burst into
flames, killing the Kitfox pilot instantly. As
everyone nearby watched, the dazed and
struggling BT pilot extracted himself from
the burning wreckage and was dragged to
safety by bystanders. His injuries? Minor
burns to exposed flesh, a headache, and
wobbly knees. His safety gear—a split-open
hard helmet, charred Nomex flight suit,
gloves, and a never-used parachute.
If you think that such safety gear is only
for “Warbirdia showoffs,” you may want
to think about how you manage your flight
risks. Nomex may not be for you, but do
you fly wearing shorts and flip flops? What
is the fabric of your clothing—any polyester
or nylon?
How did the airport dialogue end? The
student pilot noticed the flight suits hanging
on the coat rack and remarked, “They must
be at lunch; let’s go check out their airplane.”
And that’s exactly what we did.
