Tammie Jo Shults - excerpt from Military Fly Mom's book

Tammie Jo Shults - excerpt from Military Fly Moms (published 2012)

"Some people grow up around aviation. I grew up under it. Our New Mexico ranch sat under the dogfighting airspace of Holloman AFB. Reading the missionary book, Jungle Pilot, by Nate Saint and watching the daily air show cinched it. I just had to fly!

During my senior year of high school in 1979, I attended a vocational day where I heard a retired colonel give a lecture on aviation. He started the class by asking me, the only girl in attendance, if I was lost. I mustered up the courage to assure him I was not and that I was interested in flying. He allowed me to stay but assured me there were no professional women pilots.

I did not say another word. In my heart, I hoped that God had given me an interest in flying for a reason. I had never touched an airplane, but I knew flying was my future. My junior year in college, I met a girl who had just received her Air Force wings. My heart jumped. Girls did fly! I set to work trying to break into the club.

However, the Air Force wasn’t interested in talking to me but they wanted to know if my brother wanted to fly. The Navy was a little more charitable and let me take the test and fill out the application for aviation officer candidate school, but there did not seem to be a demand for women pilots. When the military flight program looked like a set of closed, locked doors, I headed back to school, starting a graduate program at Western New Mexico University. I wrestled with modifying my career choice. I did not understand how I could have such an interest in flying, not a passing infatuation but a real desire, and yet have no way of trying out my wings.

Finally, a year after taking the Navy aviation exam, I found a recruiter who would process my application. Within two months, I was getting my hair buzzed off and doing pushups in aviation officer candidate school in Pensacola, Florida. I had finally broken into the flight club!

After graduation, I started flight training, initially flying the T-34 Mentor. It was intense, joyful, and horrible, all depending on the instructor and, ultimately, the leadership. The friendships I made in T-34 training remained a source of fun and encouragement all the way through getting those coveted gold wings at graduation.

Next, I was assigned to one of the training squadrons at NAS Beeville, Texas, as an instructor pilot teaching student aviators how to fly the Navy T-2 trainer. The squadron’s commanding officer made his unit a fun place to work and this was a really enjoyable tour. A few years later, I received orders to fly the A-7 Corsair and left for the A-7 training squadron—VA-122 in Lemoore, California. I had met my knight in shining airplane—Dean Shults—before I left for Lemoore. We married ten months after we met, and, thankfully, Dean also got orders to Lemoore to fly the A-7.

Until now, being a woman aviator had been no big deal. However, all that changed when I entered VA-122; there was certainly a shift in attitude. The other students were the same guys I had been flying with since flight school but the leadership was not exactly welcoming. Since the combat exclusion law prohibited women from flying in a combat squadron, I had very limited choices where I could fly the A-7 when I finished my training, either VAQ-33 in Key West, Florida, or VAQ-34 in Point Mugu, California. Both were support squadrons that provided electronic warfare training to Navy ships and aircraft. Dean, however, joined a combat A-7 squadron at Lemoore and I chose VAQ-34, two hours from Lemoore.

I was fortunate to work for VAQ-34’s first female commanding officer—Commander Rosemary Mariner. Commander Mariner opened my eyes to the incredible influence of leadership. She was a shining example of how to lead. At the time, I was honored to call her my commanding officer. Now, I feel fortunate to count her as a friend.

After flying the A-7 for a couple of years, our squadron transitioned to the Navy’s newest fighter, the F/A-18 Hornet, but again in a support role with VAQ-34. I went back to Lemoore to learn how to fly the Hornet. Women were new to the Hornet community, and already there were signs of growing pains. My initial Hornet flight instructor, call sign Micro, set the standard for gentlemen in aviation. The flights under his direction were a dream—the aircraft seemed like magic, mixed with his good company. The euphoria was short-lived, however, because the rest of the training squadron did not share Micro's open-mindedness about flying with women. After completing the training, I went back to VAQ-34 and finished out my tour flying the Hornet.

When our squadron tours ended, Dean and I decided to get out of the Navy. We wanted to try our hands at civilian flying and start a family. So, in 1993, I left the Navy, and the following year Dean left active duty as well. We both joined Southwest Airlines—Dean works a full-time schedule, and I typically fly eight to ten days a month. We try to fly the same days so that we are all home together.

There is more to life than flying. Dean and I have a beautiful, darling daughter, now eleven years old, and a handsome son, now ten. They each have sweet yet very opposite personalities, one being “Tarzan Cinderella” and the other “Captain Cautious.” We have been blessed with nearby friends and family who provide love and godly council to our children when Dean and I do fly at the same time. We endeavor to teach our children to be leaders, not lemmings. This is especially important when it comes to making the right choice while the crowd is pulling in the other direction.

I recently took a trip with my children and parents to Carlsbad, New Mexico. As we drove, my dad casually mentioned the airfield we were passing. He mused over the time he had soloed at the small airstrip outside the town. I stared at him in amazement. I’ve been flying for twenty-three years and I never knew he’d soloed. I do have a bit of family history in aviation after all!

Mom to Mom: The most rewarding thing about being a mom is watching my children grow in their relationship with the Lord. Often, I hear snatches of what is in their hearts and I am very touched—a sweet smile, a word of encouragement, a truth or scripture they share from their own discovery.