I own Gotta Know Joe Hobbies. For the last 16 years, my daily mission has been to find kids (regardless of age) to introduce to this wonderful gift we call a "HOBBY." In a world where kids think that building is pushing a button and looking up the drive for an Amazon delivery, it has been an uphill battle, to say the least. There are times when I've almost given up; these kids are as hard to find as a pink, nine-legged turtle with velvet lips. But there is one power above that sends me a kid just as my faith starts to fade.
Over the years, a few stand out, and I have love for them all, but one is very special to me. I'm proud to share that we sponsored a group of girls who went on to win the Worlds competition in the DI'Ventors program. Another is a 14-year-old girl from India; once she learned of free plans and Dollar Tree foam board, her house was soon covered in planes. Maybe one day we can share the philosophies we use to get kids to be a part. It is a very important subject. But yesterday, I received a call from one kid that touched me in many ways, and then I saw the email asking if there was a story to share from AMA. Was this a sign?
I was vacationing with my family at Crystal Beach a few years ago. My son, daughter, wife, and all the grandkids were scattered around our 20-foot enclosed trailer parked 5 feet from the water's edge, doing beach things. The sun was 40 minutes away from kissing the horizon, and I was in another world recharging my red sunburned skin with some A/C while prepping for my 30th or so flight of the day. This is when the door flew open, and I heard my wife say, "Go on in; he won't bite." In rushed a 38-inch, 40- to 50-pound kid full of excitement ... this was the day I met Lane.
Within 2 minutes, 5,000 words ripped through my ears and filled the trailer from this little guy. His veins were popping out of his forehead in excitement as he told me, "I know you," he stammered. "YouTube Joe." "Hey, this is an E-flite Timber, and this is..." He named every plane I had brought to fly; he included the manufacturer's name, battery size, and flight characteristics, along with his opinions ... mostly of what he had read, as he was new to the hobby. I was also informed he was going to be an aerospace engineer, among a few other things, when he grew up; I think ending world hunger may have been mentioned as well. I did not get 2 or 3 words out, but I was so excited that God sent me this little gift of nuclear energy that I had to meet his parents to make sure this was not some sunburnt vision I was having.
As we stepped out onto the sand, we met his dad, who was coming to make sure I was OK. Apparently, Lane is excited to talk about planes with anyone who will listen, and Dad did not want me to become annoyed. "Lane is very passionate about his planes," his dad claimed. I said, "Me, annoyed? No sir, just the opposite; this is music to my ears." I'm standing a short 36 inches from a dark-tanned beast of a man with a full beard and a head-wrapped bandanna. Lane is the size of his right leg.
For privacy, we will call him J. J and his wife were enjoying a beach ride on their side-by-side when the boy went ballistic, wanting to stop. I am so glad they did. J was a 1% biker in the past who changed his life and studied to become a nurse. He met a wonderful lady, and they got married; she, too, is a nurse. I would soon learn why all the nurses around Lane are a good thing.
These were the nicest folks I had met in a long time. County folk, wide open, honest, with nothing to hide. They live in the country and told me they built Lane his own shop, fearing he might burn down the main house experimenting.
Lane and I went back to the trailer, and I started pumping him for info. What do you want to do with the hobby? What gear do you lack? I sent him home with a transmitter, ESCs, motors, etc. He finally could not find words, but it didn't take long for him to catch his breath. After I returned home, he called a few times, and I sent him a few big boxes of stuff for his shop over the next few months—some tools and basic gear to build planes. His calls stopped; being so busy, I thought it was school, or Mom and Dad told him to give me a break. Sadly, I later found out his dad hit a wild hog on his Harley and almost died. Yesterday, he called me for the first time in a long while. "HEY MR. JOE!" His little voice had not changed, still full of excitement. I built up the courage to ask. In a careful voice, I said, "I'm sorry about your dad; how is he?" All went silent.
I was told by him and his mom that J looks the same and can remember the past, but nothing registers short term. She was forced to move him into a care home. This leaves Lane with a void that just breaks me. You can hear the pain in his voice, but only while on the subject. He is an incredibly strong kid. I told him when I am down, I work to keep my hands and mind busy. It won't fix anything, but it helps. In time, it heals. It was time to redirect the conversation. "So, 11 yet?" I asked. "Almost, Mr. Joe! My birthday is coming up—yeah, big eleven," he stated. "I started a business making candles, but I had to close it for a while. I'll fire it back up soon. I'm building a ten-foot fishing boat, but I want to get back to my planes," he paused and said, "Mr. Joe, I was wanting to make fireworks. Mr. Joe, don't ever put powder in a blender!" "What! Are you okay?" He was caught in time, but God love him for the effort. "Stick with foam and balsa, kid; there is time for that later," I begged.
I realized how important it is for us as modelers to find any way possible to share the hobby. Kids have very few hands-on projects that inspire engineering, design, and creation in this world today. Some kids have even less. Our hobby teaches so much, all of which can be used in the real world.
Most older modelers I meet find that this hobby has directed them, in one way or another, to a trade or career. I always say we are not playing with toys; this is a tool that could save a kid's life or give life meaning—at least, it can touch a kid in a positive way. It is our responsibility to the hobby and to the kids that we do not let them be deprived of this gift. It can be hard work—heck, it can be a full-time job to break through—but they deserve the chance to experience this gift. I have seen the change it makes in kids.
When you see a kid with a taped-together foamy while you just fired up your $10,000 jet, don't push them aside. Turn it off and get involved; seek out kids in the neighborhood. Take a few planes to a school because a kid at the field is as rare as a pink, nine-legged turtle with velvet lips.
Thanks for reading,
Joe
Gotta Know Joe Hobbies
