He was a trainee pilot at a small UK flying school in Kidlington when my instructor decided to go. No instrument rating. Weather dropping fast. His wife and two grown sons were already strapped in. The plan had changed twice ' he admitted he couldn't get home, only said he wanted to reach a larger municipal field so they wouldn't be stuck overnight. Three senior pilots - including me - stood with folded arms and flat voices. We offered lifts. Hotels. Waiting. He listened. He nodded. Then he climbed back into the cockpit. The cloud base sat just low enough to tempt him. We watched him lift off and disappear beneath it, skimming into a grey wall he shouldn't have touched. They went down ten miles out. No survivors. It took him fifteen minutes to decide. It's taken me thirty years to stop asking what I should have done differently.