HOH Induction Speech from Herm Linder - WMU Aviation Faculty
Published by Tom Thinnes on Thu, May 02, 2013
Herman William Linder. Husband of his beloved Phoebe, and father of Becky, Todd, Julie, and myself. He loved with a passion...people, all things mechanical, and life itself. My brother shared with me, ‘The most important thing Dad taught me about being a mechanic and fixing things was ‘Always look where the light is the brightest first.’ That was our Dad. He was personable and fun; he exuded positive energy and had a great sense of humor; he was truly a character...a one of a kind.
I have many fond memories of Dad as an aviation instructor during his years at Western. I was blessed to have attended Western when he was teaching classes at Kohrman Hall back in the late nineteen seventies. I was living in the dorms but I knew the days he was on campus and I would, on occasion, get a ride home for one of mom’s great dinners.
I remember meeting dad, one evening, in the parking lot. He had forgotten something in his office so I climbed into the car and sat. I noticed a box of welding projects on the seat of the car. I had seen boxes like this before....little welding projects, each labeled with a student’s name scribbled on a piece of masking tape. He would always sit in the living room, in his favorite rocker (which was almost too small for him) and he would analyze each project and place it in a column according to the A, B, C...grade it received. While sitting in the car and waiting for Dad, I decided I would start grading the projects...for the fun of it. I began to place them in columns of A, B, C...on the dashboard. When I saw him returning, I put the projects back into the box. When we were driving home, I told him I had been grading his projects...he asked me if I remembered any names of students and grades I had given them. I recounted a couple and then remembered a strange name and said...’Oh yea, I remember...there was a ‘Foo’.’ Dad asked what grade I had given ‘Foo’ and I told him a ‘C.’ Dad then sheepishly smiled. Come to find out, ‘Foo’ was my father’s prototype...the little project he had welded and he was going to base all grades upon. Slightly under his breath he told me, ‘Well....I do have some pretty good welders.....’
I would have to say, one of my fondest memories was watching Dad teach. I remember one day, arriving outside his classroom...standing at the door, watching and listening to him lecture about things I had no knowledge about. But I remember smiling...he had me hooked...his passion was infectious. I was engaged by his enthusiasm, his energy, the rise and fall of his voice when he wanted to make a point...his chuckle at his own humor woven into the fabric of his lecture...my father was in his element when he was teaching...he wanted his students to experience the same passion he felt for engines, aviation mechanics, electrical systems....all of it.
From his years in the late nineteen fifties as a shop teacher at Champaign High School, to his years at the Illini Institute of Aviation, and finally to his time as an instructor with Western’s Aviation Program, this was Dad’s legacy...leaving a lasting impression on the students he taught. He was well-respected for his knowledge and expertise as an airframe and powerplant mechanic instructor. About 18 years ago, I had coffee with one of Dad’s former students, Mark Olexa. His children attended the elementary school in Dexter, Michigan, where I still currently teach. He said, ‘Your dad was a professional in modeling safety and procedure with regards to aviation maintenance and FAA regulations. I took that to my professional aviation life and I have carried those induced principles of excellence to mechanicing my garden tractor, auto, anything mechanical.’
Back in 2002, my brother found a surprise letter to the editor in the July issue of Air and Space Magazine, from another student from Dad’s past. The writer (former student), Greg Parsons, was making reference to an article he had read in the May issue of the magazine entitled, Shop Class Was Never Like This. The article was about a high school aviation technology instructor in the Chicago suburbs named Jim Jackson who built with his students, ‘commercial build-your-own airplane kits.’ The article was highlighting how unique this kind of shop class was and most high school shop classes didn’t compare.
Greg Parsons in July of 2002, wrote this letter to the editor of the Air and Space Magazine and he said, I quote: ‘In response to the article, ‘Shop Class Was Never Like This’ (April/May 2002), mine actually was. In the 1950s, I attended Champaign High School in Champaign, Illinois, and we had a class taught by an airframe-and-powerplant mechanic named Mr. Herman Linder. We rebuilt an Aeronca and a 1929 Waco glider, and we built two gliders: an all-metal Schweizer 1-26 and an experimental design of Mr. Linder’s featured in Flying magazine.’
A good teacher is inspirational. A good teacher will leave a lasting impression on his students. My father was a great teacher. But he was also a loving husband and father. My siblings and I all have fond memories of Dad....A dad who daily hoisted the American flag up the flag pole in the center of our yard every day. A dad who stroked his ukelele and sang or whistled barbershop tunes. A dad who laughed at the antics of Foghorn Leghorn, often quoting the loony toon character..’That boy’s about as sharp as a pound of wet liver....’ A dad who would just start sharing his thoughts and opinions with any random person whether it be someone in a grocery store check-out line or at a McDonald’s drive-in window. A dad whose finger was never the same after wiping out on our sledding hill when he went airborne off the jump we had built at the bottom of the hill, unbeknownst to him! A dad who used to take us for rides in the Aerocoupe or T-Craft and fly low over the house in greeting...and then would come home and tell mom that after flying over the tv antennae, he noticed some dust and thought she better climb the tower and take care of that! A dad who loved watching red-tailed hawks fly...who would watch them ride a thermal up...and just glide....A dad who said, ‘When I die, I hope I come back as a red-tailed hawk...they just love to fly for the fun of it.’
Dad died too soon, at the age of 65. When he and our mother moved to North Carolina, they both fell in love with the mountains and Dad knew, that when he died, he wanted his ashes to be spread over those mountains. My family believes that it wasn’t a coincidence when my mother and sister, Julie, went up into the Smoky Mountains to spread Dad’s ashes...they came to a spot, on their way to the top of the mountain...got out of the car and looked at the view that stretched for miles..and there, next to the point where they stopped, was a plaque with a picture of red-tailed hawks, in flight. They knew...this was the place where Dad would want to be scattered into the winds...taking flight one last time.
I know my father is here with us tonight, in spirit. On behalf of the Linder Family, I wish to thank, you, Bob, for keeping the memory of our father alive by nominating him. Thank you to his former colleagues for being here in support, and thank you to the Aviation Department here at Western for honoring our father by inducting him into the Hall of Fame. This would have made him so proud because he was very dedicated to the students he worked with and the aviation program here at Western.