Although her name was Yvonne,
I called her Bonnie and it stuck for the rest of her life. This
flight training lasted through Christmas, and when she visited,
we all gathered around an old piano and sang "White Christmas."
The airplanes were equipped with skis
because the snow
and ice was everywhere in that cold Wisconsin area. Back then people
got ice from the great lakes and crews would be camped out there
sawing out great chunks. This was just too tempting for a recently
soloed pilot so I flew down until my skis were on the ice and made
a wild run right at the ice cutters . . . pulling up at the last
minute. Of course this resulted in a severe tongue lashing back
at the base but nothing else.