This past May, when former pilot Grace Smith, age 89, hoisted herself up into the cockpit of a Cessna 172 for her first flight in five decades, taking off was a matter of shaking off the rust rather than any doubts or fears.
“I was enjoying it so much when we got airborne that I forgot I was supposed to fly the plane,” she says with a laugh when I interviewed her from the Chartwell Heritage Valley retirement community in Edmonton. “It was great. I found out the areas I definitely need improvement but then, after 50 years, a refresher course would help.”
As for any lessons Grace would like to share with other women her age about her high-flying accomplishment, she has a simple and emphatic message: “Age has nothing to do with it!”
She literally spoke into existence her dream of flying again. A friend who had overheard her pining for her piloting days submitted a wish on her behalf to Chartwell Wish of a Lifetime, an initiative that inspires seniors to “experience joy, connection and purpose by making lifelong dreams come true.”
The charity – which is run by Chartwell Retirement Residences and is open to seniors across Canada – has granted hundreds of later-in-life wishes, from thrilling experiences like Grace’s flight to far-flung travel adventures and family reunions.
“It was something she wanted to do for many, many years because she stopped flying when she had kids,” explains Grace’s daughter, Terry Carter, who was among family and friends cheering her on from the tarmac. “I was so impressed because that plane doesn’t look easy to climb into. I don’t think I could have done it.”
Even at an age when most people are firmly planted in their easy chairs, it’s no surprise that Grace still finds joy above the clouds. In many ways, her love of aviation has served as her true north throughout her life.
Growing up in the small town of Tofield, east of Edmonton, she took an early interest in aircraft, burying her nose in books on the subject and even joining an aviation club. By her teens, she was already starting to imagine herself in the cockpits of planes flying overhead.
“I knew what it was that I wanted,” she says of the early inkling.
After high school, she earned a college degree in secretarial studies and set her sights on a career in air traffic control. But alas, another high-flyer would reroute those plans.
“The training was taken in Winnipeg and, at that time, I didn’t want to leave the handsome young pilot I was dating,” she recalls, referring to her late husband, Ernie Smith, with whom she enjoyed 68 years of marriage and raised two children.
So instead, Grace secured a secretarial position at an aviation overhaul company. But working in close proximity to the aircrafts that had captured her imagination as a child would only ground her dream of flying for so long. Armed with the same determination that propelled her on her most recent flight, she earned her pilot’s license.
“It wasn’t very welcoming,” she says of her male-dominated training class. “In many ways, you had to be twice as good [as a man] to be accepted. It just made me more determined that I was going to prove that I could do it.”
When Grace earned her license in 1953, she was one of very few women flying in the airspace over Canada. As late as 1980, women only accounted for 5.73 per cent of private pilots, while in the professional arena, Air Canada only hired its first female pilot in 1978.
Still, Grace won’t hear of any suggestion that she was some kind of pioneer.
“I wouldn’t say that,” she says curtly, before suggesting that I educate myself on the topic. She points me to a 1992 book by Shirley Render called No Place for a Lady: The Story of Canadian Women Pilots, 1928 to 1992. “It goes back and indicates all the former women pilots in Canada. You would be surprised.”
As for the hype around her most recent flight, she says that reconnecting with an important piece of her identity was far more enriching than any pat on the back.
Her extended family has always known her as “the one that flies.”
“That was one way to identify me, I was the different one,” she says. “I’m used to being a bit of an oddball, so that was quite okay.”
Now, among friends and staff at her retirement home, she’s no longer just Grace., She’s “Grace the pilot” – a qualifier that has a familiar ring to it.
“It’s caused a little bit of excitement within the residence,” she says, before giving in to a hint of pride. “I guess that’s good.”
