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!
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