Late 1990s, a handful of training command butter bar types (not all of them current flight students at the time of the story; this detail is relevant) rent a pair of small airplanes in Pensacola for a "hundred dollar hamburger" on a Saturday night. So far, so good, and a pretty neat way to spend part of your weekend.
Well, the return trip ended quite spectacularly, with one of the airplanes crashing on the roof of the mall next to the airport. Local media reports remarked about what great luck that there were not only no major injuries but neither was there any post-crash fire. Now, aviation-savvy readers will tend to consider that last detail as having very little to do with "luck." The NTSB accident investigation shed much light on the mishap, but without completely giving away the conclusion, perhaps it is relevant to mention that the ill-fated pilot was an API attrite--going from memory although I'm pretty confident in the details--for some academic performance issues on the navigation exam(s).
I was just starting API as this happened... I wondered why I had to get detoured going to my apartment across from Cordova Mall... Very shortly, in true aviation fashion - the news clipping was seen hanging in MATSG-21 spaces with the quote "don't let this be your FAM-1." The back story is correct, he failed out of API for flight planning/navigation. I guess the nuances of having fuel plans escaped him... Never knew what happened to him...
Until I met PSW.
Turns out, he ended up as an Intelligence Officer in the USMC (irony is thick there), and was working with PSW in her command up at Fort Meade. PSW had a coworker tell her (in confidence) the story, which of course she told me (there are no secrets in marriage!). I have yet to let him know that I know what happened, and who he is, but I've tried to allude to it...
For the record, he's a good dude (got out, and went into the reserves as a civil affairs guy, and has deployed his balls off to both Iraq and Afghanistan) just lacking the social skills (and fuel planning) of an aviator. Social skills you say? He was over our house for dinner, with his girlfriend, and PSW dropped something, bent over to pick it up and he said "I like that view." "DUDE, that's my wife!"
EDIT - PSW just reminded me that after I said "DUDE, that's my wife!" We had to follow it up with "DUDE, that's my midshipman!" (we were sponsoring mids at the time). Like I said, no social skills...