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Condolences To The Lives Lost In Cougar's Flight 491, March 12th, 2009.


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To all those who died on flight 491, may you rest in Great Natural Peace.

 

 

The Last Good-bye

by Mark Drew

 

It's such a hard word to say, good-bye

Especially for those who have reason to fly.

Usually this work is as safe as can be,

But like most of life, there's just no guarantee.

 

Leaving for weeks at a time can be hard,

Hoping that fate won't deal you the wrong card.

Promising kids you'll be home before long,

Praying each time that you'll never be wrong.

 

This business we're in has so many good men,

But Destiny takes one now and again.

We can't change a thing, you or I, it is done,

That cruel hand of Fate, once again it has won.

 

All we can do is the best that we can,

For living in fear is no life for a man.

We must carry on with our spirits held high,

But we'll always remember the last good-bye.

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To my Special Friend, Capt. Matt Davis.

 

Matt, the many times I had the pleasure of working with you will always be treasured.

 

Like the time we sat for six hours on a hill west of Iqaluit waiting for the fog to clear with a U/S sat phone.

 

Like the time we spent together on top of our 212 on the lower pad at Resolution Island watching the 3 Polar bears walk around the machine eye-balling the tender morsels perched on the rotor head. And you giving me stick about smoking and I replied. "Matt, we are about to get devoured and you're worried about me smoking??"

 

Like the time you helped me wash the tailboom in the middle of a blizzard on Baffin Island.post-907-1238266416_thumb.jpg

 

And all the hours we spent quaffing beer and pizza in Moose Jaw, Sask. looking at the pretty ladies. The discussion we had wondering if it was OK for married men to look at the girls.

Our conclusion....just because we were on a diet, doesn't mean we can't look at the menu.

 

And how about the time you dragged my cold big arse in 40 below weather and what seemed like 900 MPH winds all over Regina looking for the perfect set of Roller Blades for you and your Lovely Lady Marsha. I hope you had fun with them. (And thanks again for treating me to dinner that night. I tried to teach you early on how to treat your Engineer and you learned fast!!)

 

I loved it when you got that twinkle in your eye when I would start with my war stories and then you would say in your charming Newfie accent..."and then what happened Dad?"

 

Even though I was well over twice your age, I learned a lot from you Matty.

Thank-You for sharing part of your short life with me.

 

See you soon Buddy :punk: :punk:

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I hope there's a place, way up in the sky

Where pilots can go when they have to die.

A place where a guy could buy a cold beer

For a friend and a comrade whose memory is dear.

A place where no doctor or lawyer could tread,

Nor a management-type would e'er be caught dead!

Just a quaint little place, kind of dark, full of smoke,

Where they like to sing loud, and love a good joke.

The kind of a place that a lady could go

And feel safe and secure by the men she would know.

 

There must be a place where old pilots go,

When their wings become heavy, when their airspeed gets low,

Where the whiskey is old, and the women are young,

And songs about flying and dying are sung.

Where you'd see all the fellows who'd 'flown west' before,

And they'd call out your name, as you came through the door,

Who would buy you a drink, if your thirst should be bad,

And relate to the others, "He was quite a good lad!"

 

And there, through the mist, you'd spot an old guy

You had not seen in years, though he'd taught you to fly.

He'd nod his old head, and grin ear to ear

And say, "Welcome, my Son, I'm proud that you're here!

For this is the place where true flyers come

When the battles are over, and the wars have been won.

They've come here at last, to be safe and alone,

From the government clerk, and the management clone;

Politicians and lawyers, the Feds, and the noise,

Where all hours are happy, and these good ol' boys

Can relax with a cool one, and a well deserved rest!

This is Heaven, my Son. You've passed your last test!

 

- Captain Michael J Larkin, TWA (Retired),

 

 

Rest in Peace Tim, Matt and all from cougar 491.

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Yep, Thank you Mark,

 

To tell you the truth, I quit this job at 1930 at the end of SAR on that tragic friday. My little honey at home convinced me after 20 odd years in this industry, that I knew of nothining else, I sat down and reflected on all the friends I have lost and came to the conckusion that ,it is not the way to go. So here I am doing a longline job, but Matt and Tim I think of you on every turn, God bless you, I will also see you soon, get the beers in boys.

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