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Would like to wish all a holiday filled with God's Blessings
Jim Bartlett
N325B
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> > 'Twas the night before Christmas, and out on the ramp,
> > Not an airplane was stirring, not even a Champ.
> > The aircraft were fastened to tiedowns with care,
> > In hopes that come morning, they all would be there.
> >
> >
> > The fuel trucks were nestled, all snug in their spots,
> > With gusts from two-forty at 39 knots.
> > I slumped at the fuel desk, now finally caught up,
> > And settled down comfortably, resting my butt.
> >
> >
> > When the radio lit up with noise and with chatter,
> > I turned up the scanner to see what was the matter.
> > A voice clearly heard over static and snow,
> > Called for clearance to land at the airport below.
> >
> >
> > He barked his transmission so lively and quick,
> > I'd have sworn that the call sign he used was "St. Nick".
> > I ran to the panel to turn up the lights,
> > The better to welcome this magical flight.
> >
> >
> > He called his position, no room for denial,
> > "St. Nicholas One, turnin' left onto final."
> > And what to my wondering eyes should appear,
> > But a Rutan-built sleigh, with eight Rotax Reindeer!
> >
> >
> > With vectors to final, down the glideslope he came,
> > As he passed all fixes, he called them by name:
> > "Now Ringo! Now Tolga! Now Trini and Bacun!
> > On Comet! On Cupid!" What pills was he takin'?
> >
> >
> > While controllers were sittin', and scratchin' their head,
> > They phoned to my office, and I heard it with dread,
> > The message they left was both urgent and dour:
> > "When Santa pulls in, have him please call the tower."
> >
> >
> > He landed like silk, with the sled runners sparking,
> > Then I heard "Left at Charlie," and "Taxi to parking."
> > He slowed to a taxi, turned off of three-oh
> > And stopped on the ramp with a "Ho, ho-ho-ho..."
> >
> >
> > He stepped out of the sleigh, but before he could talk,
> > I ran out to meet him with my best set of chocks.
> > His red helmet and goggles were covered with frost
> > And his beard was all blackened from Reindeer exhaust.
> >
> >
> > His breath smelled like peppermint, gone slightly stale,
> > And he puffed on a pipe, but he didn't inhale.
> > His cheeks were all rosy and jiggled like jelly,
> > His boots were as black as a cropduster's belly.
> >
> >
> > He was chubby and plump, in his suit of bright red,
> > And he asked me to "fill it, with hundred low-lead."
> > He came dashing in from the snow-covered pump,
> > I knew he was anxious for drainin' the sump.
> >
> >
> > I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work,
> > And I filled up the sleigh, but I spilled like a jerk.
> > He came out of the restroom, and sighed in relief,
> > Then he picked up a phone for a Flight Service brief.
> >
> >
> > And I thought as he silently scribed in his log,
> > These reindeer could land in an eighth-mile fog.
> > He completed his pre-flight, from the front to the rear,
> > Then he put on his headset, and I heard him yell, "Clear!"
> >
> >
> > And laying a finger on his push-to-talk,
> > He called up the tower for clearance and squawk.
> > "Take taxiway Charlie, the southbound direction,
> > Turn right three-two-zero at pilot's discretion"
> >
> >
> > He sped down the runway, the best of the best,
> > "Your traffic's a Grumman, inbound from the west."
> > Then I heard him proclaim, as he climbed thru the night,
> > "Merry Christmas to all! I have traffic in sight."
> >
> > =======================
> > Original by anonymous
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