Inspiration on the move

Jon Gauthier was just 15 years old when we first met. I’d been invited by his high school aerospace teacher to speak to his class. Actually, he asked me to talk to five different classes of students, all of whom were dipping a toe into the general aviation waters to see if it was a good fit.

My role was to tell my story, share a bit about career opportunities, and answer any questions the students might have.

I spent an entire day with literally hundreds of young hopefuls, as well as a handful of kids who were distant and disinterested after possibly electing to take the class by accident, and at least two wise guys who did their best to derail the proceedings. They were high schoolers, after all. I would have been surprised if they had all been enraptured by what I had to share.

Although I was pleasantly surprised to see how many of them were genuinely intrigued by the notion that a high school class might put them one step — or several steps — closer to getting inside the airport fence at one of several general aviation airports in the area.

Jon stuck out. Even then so young that he wasn’t legally allowed to drive, his interest in the topic was absolute. On a prior visit to the school, I’d seen him flying a simulator reasonably well — a surprise since he’d had no formal flight training at that point.

He was motivated. That much was abundantly clear. And his minor successes in the class spread to others in his age group.

Jon’s not the captain of the football team, or the head cheerleader, or one of the kids who are theater icons of the student body. They are all considered cool. Jon is anything but cool. He’d tell you that himself.

Although he wouldn’t need to. After spending 10 minutes with Jon a casual observer could easily come away with two very specific impressions:

1. He’s not cool.
2. He’s incredibly smart in a way that allows him to be uncommonly enthusiastic about the topics he cares about, without coming off the least bit elitist or condescending.

In the months that followed I become fairly well acquainted with Jon. He jumped at the chance to form a high school aero club with his fellow students. He was appointed president of the club soon enough, a position he took to heart. Unlike most volunteers of any age, Jon involved himself in every aspect of the club’s formation. He studied intensively and did his best to share his knowledge with his peers at school and in the hangar.

That drive to learn and achieve really caught my attention one Saturday morning at the hangar when Jon and his fellow club members took a break from their ground school studies to start working out calculus problems on the white board. It seems one of their peers, who is homeschooled, was having some difficulty with the subject. Jon and a few of his mathematically inclined fellow club members cheerfully corrected that deficiency before the end of the work session rolled around.

All that is well and good. Really well and good, in fact. But Jon’s devotion to aviation continued to increase. He wanted to learn to fly. To step out of the hangar, onto the ramp, and into the left seat of an actual airplane.

He was hopeful. He also proved to be a leader in terms of seeking out opportunities that might help him reach his goal. He shared his process with his peers, to the delight of all concerned.

Jon doesn’t come from money. Nor do most of his classmates and fellow club members. He sought out advice about how to apply for flight training scholarships. He worked hard, volunteered at aviation events, flew a few hours on his own dime, then applied for a scholarship.

He got it.

On the day of his first solo the boy was smiling like he’d just won the biggest lottery payday ever. He continued to fly, he continued to study, and best of all he continued to inspire and support his peers.

In March 2022 Jon Gauthier became a private pilot — the first in his family’s history. He was 17 years old.

Because he put serious effort into his flight training Jon found himself in the enviable position of having money left in his scholarship account. That being the case, Jon, now an engineering student at Florida Polytechnic University, began to wonder how he could expand his aeronautical skills. He looked around, talked to other pilots, considered his options, and ultimately found his answer.

On July 12, 2023, Jon successfully completed his single-engine seaplane add-on rating at Jack Brown’s Seaplane Base in Winter Haven, Florida. He flew a Legend Cub on straight floats.

Before reaching his 19th birthday my young friend has earned certifications in land and seaplanes and only had to spend a few hundred dollars out of his own pocket.

And yes, those dollars came from his pocket, not his parent’s. Jon has not one, but two, part-time jobs: One as a line service worker at the airport where he flies, and one at the university where he continues to shine.

Can a high school class change the direction of a young person’s life? Yes! Jon’s journey illustrates that point well. Today he’s working toward his goal of being an aeronautical engineer, adding more flight time to his logbook, and mentoring those who come behind him.

Several of his high school classmates have followed in Jon’s footsteps. They are private pilots, too. They’re off to college, or the military, with an eye set on a career in aviation. They stay in touch. The aero club they founded is small but growing. They are a success by any measure.

In the years to come they may realize the standard they set, the inspirational figures they’ve become, and the impact of their efforts on others. But for now they’re just pilots, and getting closer by the day to a level of achievement they couldn’t even conceive of as high school students.

I couldn’t be more proud of them or the thousands more who will follow in their wake. Their future — and that of general aviation — is bright indeed.