Stan Love ’87

Flight student

I had the fabulous good fortune to be a student of Iris Critchell in the Bates Aeronautics Program in the mid-1980s. As I’ve often told anyone who will listen, that experience set the course for my life and career. Iris taught me so many valuable life lessons that it’s hard to choose which ones to share in a limited space. But here are a few standouts.

1. If you get brought on board as an alternate, second, or deputy, appreciate the role and work hard at it. Frequently the backup person gets promoted to primary. That was the case for me and Bates, where I was accepted as a backup. It was a good thing that Iris encouraged me to pay full attention in ground school, because when other students had to drop out, I moved up to a flying slot! That experience repeated itself later. I went to Antarctica as a backup. I attended helicopter school as a backup. And I did my first spacewalk as a backup.

2. The best antidote for too much intellectual challenge is an activity, especially a physical one, that demands complete focus. As students, Harvey Mudd College’s rigorous academics dominated our time and attention. It was hard to tear ourselves away from it for extracurricular activities. Even when we weren’t in front of our books, our heads tended to remain there. Flying broke that obsession. For that hour in the air, Iris made us forget about differential equations and devote all of our attention to window pictures, engine and radio sounds, feedback from our kinetic senses, and the indications of panel instruments. Driving back to campus from Brackett Field I always felt elated and exhausted. But my mind was refreshed and ready to tackle more academics. I once read a study of human happiness that found that Buddhists generally report higher feelings of happiness. Maybe that’s because of the focus they cultivate in their daily meditation. In my experience, an hour of aviation can achieve the same result.

3. “Grab hold of those controls and command that aircraft!” Like many student pilots, I was timid with the controls at first. It can be intimidating to operate a complex machine in an environment that can harm you in many ways. Yet the airplane is designed to respond to our control inputs. We can bend it to our will. Many times in my life, when I was called to take action in a stressful environment, Iris’s exhortation to take command–to seize the day–returned to my consciousness. I expect that those words will stay with me, and motivate me, for the rest of my life.

Thanks for reading, and for helping us all to remember Iris Critchell.

Pinky Nelson ’72

Student and Friend

My freshman year I played on the baseball team under coach Bill Arce. I had a good year, played on the varsity and spent the summer in Holland with a team of players from around the LA area assembled and coached by Arce. I love baseball so it was a wrenching decision to quit the team after being selected for the Bates program. Coach Arce was totally understanding that two extracurricular activities would be too much for a Harvey Mudd student and we stayed friends for the rest of my HMC time. Many years later I was in Claremont for some event or other and arranged to visit Iris. When I got to her home, I was surprised to find Bill Arce there too, and we had a wonderful visit. I don’t know if I’d said much at the time about the loss that I felt giving up baseball, but Iris knew, and this was her way of acknowledging it all these years later. Of course, the way things turned out, it was the right decision. Without Bates my career path would have been completely different. The impact of the Critchells on my life has been profound. There are so many memorable stories about Iris: her kindness, zest for life, total support for all of us as pilots and young people and beyond, and her insistence on excellence in the air and on the ground. What a life she led!

Neil Myers ’85

Bates Aero student '84 & '85

Child of an Air Force pilot, I had a lifelong infatuation with aviation. Unfortunately, I did not inherit my father’s keen eyesight and knew I wouldn’t fly for the military. When I learned of the Bates program when interviewing at Mudd, I was sold on the school. I was fortunate to be accepted into Mudd in ’82 and Aero 1 and 2 in ’84 and ’85.

Mrs. C was so much more than a legendary aviator. But youth is sometimes wasted on the young and some of us may not have realized at the time just how incredible she was. We kept in touch infrequently, through holiday cards and “From the Tower” newsletters. She contacted us when she came through Colorado Springs once, and though we were sleep deprived new parents at the time, I was excited to meet up. Eventually, I came to learn more of her remarkable story when I saw an announcement of her induction into the National Flight Instructors Hall of Fame. When the U.S. Olympic Paralympic Museum opened here, we found her in the interactive display of U.S. Olympians and I gasped in recognition when we saw her in the museum’s main film presentation. Not long ago, when traveling, I spoke of her to a female flight crew member, wondering if she knew of the WAFS and WASPS that pioneered women in aviation. Of course, I told her I was taught to fly by one of those pioneers, who also happened to have been an Olympic swimmer at the 1936 Berlin games. When she remarked on what an amazing person she must be, I asked if she’d seen those old “most interesting man in the world” ads? Then I told her, I think the most interesting person in the world wasn’t a man. I think it was Iris Critchell. And I was blessed to know her.

Nancy R Smith ’76

Bates graduate, Aero I '77, and longstanding friend

I had wanted to fly as long as I could remember, and had promised myself when I was 8 that I would learn. When I arrived at Harvey Mudd, I heard about the Bates Program. I was fascinated. I also was a terrible student, scraping through by the skin of my teeth. I knew I couldn’t manage the program. That didn’t keep me from dropping by at very late hours to visit with Iris in her office. Such patience! We talked about so much…as I recall, she spent as much time learning about me as I did about her, and I know our conversations went well past 10 p.m.

The year after I graduated (by the skin of my teeth!) from Harvey Mudd, I began looking around for flight lessons in the area. I was allowed to join the Bates classroom for ground school, and I learned far more about aerodynamics and meteorology than I ever could have at a “normal” flight school. Midway through the year, one of the Batesers had to drop out. A seat was available for me, though not a scholarship. I happily began flying with Critch. My first flight lesson was Valentine’s Day, 1977. I was able to take time off from work as necessary for lessons and cross-country flights.

Critch was my primary instructor, but Iris was my check pilot. I don’t mind saying that I was terrified of her, to the point that she told Critch after one stage check that she thought I was too nervous to ever be a pilot! He’d never seen that behavior in me. Fortunately, I learned enough about myself and becoming Pilot In Command to become what I consider a Whole Human Being. (When my company’s General Manager, exasperated at my insistence on keeping promises to customers, called me a “pushy broad”, I knew I had arrived!) I would be a very different person if it hadn’t been for the Critchells and the Bates program.

We stayed in touch over the decades, and the “Bates Hotel” was always open to me and, later, my husband and our dog as well. My husband was a retired Air Traffic Controller and an active pilot. We were both flight instructors and loved to discuss the state of flight instructing, and some of our more interesting students, with Iris. After we retired, we traveled around the country and told the Critchells of our travels. Iris would regale us with stories of her flights to some of those places during wartime, delivering airplanes. “Oh, Columbus, New Mexico! That was our fallback position if we couldn’t get into El Paso! There was no hotel nearby, so we women would always stay with the Sheriff!”

I always admired Iris’ energy, both mental and physical. Critch wrote one time about their going to a wedding near San Diego. One morning they were out at Coronado Beach, and Iris decided she wanted to take a run. She began sprinting down the lovely wet sand, as Critch continued his stroll. Suddenly a man yelled at him: “Hey! You’re on military property! Get back here!” Critch turned around to comply, and said “I’m happy to do that, but you need to tell my wife as well.” He pointed to Iris, now well down the beach. In Critch’s words, he and other spectators were then treated to the sight of “a poor gob in full military uniform, running after an 80-year-old lady”! The poor gob didn’t catch her until she was on her way back.

Iris and Critch, and later Iris and Sandie, welcomed my husband and me to their house whenever we were in town, and we had a tradition of helping her celebrate her birthday on Midwinter Day. After the pandemic had set in, we settled for telephone and Zoom calls. Part of the tradition was for us to play guitars and sing songs: goofy HMC parody songs I remember from Dr. Platt, and funny songs my husband remembered from his own sources. One of Iris’ favorites was Cole Porter’s “Don’t Fence Me In” because it had been one of the marching songs during her WAFS training in Texas. I sang and played it over the telephone on her 104th birthday. At that point she wasn’t saying much, but Sandie reported that she was smiling and nodding to the beat.

No superlative is superlative enough for Iris, or for that matter for Critch. I am supremely grateful that they were part of my life for so long. I send all my love and sympathy to Robin and Sandie, and the many family and community members for the loss — but I am also very grateful that we mortals had them as long as we did!

Jamie Haddock

I was so fortunate to meet Iris this past summer. What an inspiration! We shared a nice afternoon talking about our lives and connections to Mudd. Iris was humble, generous, and interested to learn about me. We spoke for a few hours, which I learned was to be expected of a visit with Iris — her life and passion filled the conversation and it was hard to tear myself away. I’m blown away by how much Iris has enriched the Mudd community — we’re so lucky to have known her and for her guidance of the Bates Program!

Nicholas Breznay ’02

Student, Colleague, Friend

I wonder how many Mudders remember moments like these, just as vividly as I do …

– Meeting Iris for the first time: it’s freshman year at HMC, and Mrs. C invites me to a meeting to discuss a scholarship (thank you Foleys and the Bates community!) and to open the door into the nerdy, generous, and always welcoming HMC aeronautics world. Years follow of fly-ins, aero club outings, casual lunches with astronauts, and …

– The first flight: well after the Bates program years, my roommate Brian and I are lucky enough to get marching orders from Iris and arrive at Brackett field early on a Saturday morning. After a ground school mini-lecture and full preflight check on N7642G, I am at the controls alongside Iris and taking off … way before my brain has caught up to the moment. Heart flutters amid the rumble and buzz of the engine, Iris’s calm and authoritative voice over the headset, and views of San Dimas falling away from us …

– Returning to campus after a decade (or more): Iris instantly recognizes me at alumni weekend and I am part of the family again. We find my entry in her flight instructor logbook, talk about future generations of amazing HMC students, and a few months later I’m using media from the aero library in our Physics 24 lectures …

Thank you Iris – for your passion in sharing the privilege of flight, and for the community you nurtured along the way.

– Nicholas P. Breznay ’02

Don Albrecht ’72

Aero 1 & 2 in '69 and '70, friend and inspired by her

My first year at Mudd was very challenging. I was not sure that I could compete with the other high achieving students and difficult curriculum there. Being accepted to the Bates program convinced me that I should stay at Mudd. My experience with the Bates program was amazing. Iris taught me how to think problems out and get solutions.

One such time was on my first solo flight to Palomar. I realized that I had missed the airport as I started to fly over the ocean. I looked up the VOR frequency for Palomar, dialed it in, turned around an found the airport.

I remember one story about Iris. It may be part of the legend. While relaxing from ferrying planes during World War 2, Critch and Iris were at a swimming pool at an Army Air Base. Critch turned to the other pilots and said something like “Do you see my girlfriend over there? I bet she can beat every one of you any number of laps across the pool.” Naturally the pilots took the bet. Iris beat every one of them. After collecting on the bets, Critch supposedly asked the pilots “Did I mention that she swam for the US Olympic team in 1936?”

When going to the Mudd reunion days, going to see Iris and the Bates presentations was a highlight of the trip. My wife Marty and I were fortunate enough last year to visit Iris at her home and enjoyed a great afternoon with her and Sandy. Iris was and still is an inspiration for me.

Ja Powers ’65

Student

I am a member of the first class of the Bates foundation. The class took dedication for 3 semesters +guided by a teacher with marvelous patience. From the advantage of age, I am impressed by the patience Mrs. C had when leading 7 – 10 19 to 20 year old youths during our mistakes, successes and irrelevant flights of fancy.

Greg Felton ’85

Student, Friend, and Admirer

It’s with mixed emotions that I bid Iris (aka Mrs. Critchell, Mrs. C, Petunia, Rose…) a smooth flight west. After 104 years of being the Pilot (clearly) In Command, she deserved to make her last Earthbound take off while still at the controls.

Mrs. C once told me that the Bates Aeronautics Program accepted some students based on what the selection committee anticipated they could do for the program, and some based on what the program could do for them. She only smiled (and never revealed) when I inquired about the reason I was admitted. I’d like to think there was a bit of the former but am certain there was a whole lot of the latter, and for that I will always be grateful. Iris had more faith in me, and in me accomplishing great things, than I could ever imagine for myself. While I always appreciated and respected her as my instructor, and know that she sits on my shoulder every time I fly, what I truly valued the past 40 years has been her ongoing friendship and true interest and fascination in what I’ve done, in my family, and in my ongoing experiences whether related to flight or not. To have someone as accomplished as she was revel in my relatively minor victories was empowering.

Iris’s tales were unparalleled but always conveyed modestly. About swimming, she recalled navigating the surf off of Redondo Beach and, during the summers, the chilly waters off of Zephyr Cove in Lake Tahoe, all under the tutelage of her father, that ultimately led to her 4-year dominance of breaststroke in the US. When re-living her experiences in flight, one of my favorites was watching her reenact the slithering maneuver she was taught to safely bail out of a P-51 Mustang should it overheat. Priceless. Then there was the time she revealed that not all the planes that came off the production line had been test flown before they were turned over to her to fly across the country. Yikes. You can bet she did a solid preflight inspection and can understand why she drilled into us the importance of this.

I recall Critch (Mr. Howard Critchell) once telling me how it was that he met his bride. With his normal wry sense of humor, he pointed out (surely much more eloquently than I will relay here) that his wartime assignment was teaching new recruits how to navigate which involved flying slow planes around the middle of the country until those recruits were good and lost then asking them to get him home in time for dinner. By contrast, Iris’ assignment was to transport the military’s latest and greatest planes across the country at much higher speeds and altitudes. He then asked rhetorically, “Who do YOU think drove our relationship?”

Whether it was at age 80 running down the teenager who tried to snatch her purse from the hangar, or still flying her Cessna and swimming laps at 103, or looking daily at airplane tracking websites to see which of her Bates alums were going interesting places (and doing a good job maintaining heading and altitude along the way), Iris just never slowed down. Though the duration of her time on this Earth surely was outstanding, it’s what she did with every day, and the amount of skill, knowledge, and confidence that she instilled in people like me that I will never forget.

Fair winds, Iris.

Floyd Spencer ’72

Student in Bates Program

I was in the Bates program in 1970 – 1972 with Iris as my flight instructor.

I remember that in early conversations she talked about the geography in and around my hometown of Carlsbad, New Mexico. She told me about the location of various salt beds in relation to Carlsbad, as well as other features of the area. It was only later, after I learned a little more of Iris’ history, that I realized that she had been drawing upon past memories of 25 years or more of preparing for and flying the southern route to ferry war planes from the west coast to the east coast during WWII.

When I returned from a stint in the Peace Corps in 1974, I communicated with Iris that I had intentions to get back into flying, but had failed the FAA medical examination. She wrote back to me that she had contacted the FAA medical examiner that had performed the student flight medicals to ask if there was anything in his record of my initial examination that might have foreshadowed the reason for my failing the renewal exam. She showed, not only a concern for my situation, but also a willingness to provide help and input in ways that I had not imagined.