The Honest Story Behind My Free Flights for Families
The Honest Story Behind My Free Flights for Families
Please note that this article discusses themes of childhood trauma and abuse.
While recovering at home from a minor surgery, I've found myself with plenty of time to reflect on my life and the things that truly matter. And that's led me to finally share the story behind why I offer free flights to families. This is a story close to my heart that I've been wanting to tell for a while.
I remember the exact moment flying changed everything. I was a scared child, the world felt broken, but strapped into that tiny plane, something shifted. The horizon stretched further than I'd ever imagined, and somehow, my problems seemed smaller.
That feeling of change, of possibility... it was in stark contrast to the life I knew. Just a few years earlier, everything had shattered.
The memories of that day are as vivid as the hug I got this morning from my two daughters.
Mum and Dad were fighting outside our flat.
A car arrives and stops beside my mum. Who is driving that car? I can't see. They shout at each other. Was that a slap in the face? I'm not sure.
She opens the car door and gets in. The car rushes away. Dad is frozen, watching the car fading away on the horizon.
I watched it all with my sister from our bedroom window. I was nine. My sister was seven.
That day, life, as I knew, was over.
What followed were years of struggle: a couple of years in family court followed by years of parental alienation. The abuse I kept a secret, moving to a new city, losing all friends, bullying (lots of it), and losing my hero/grandfather.
I lived my teenage years with no horizon. Instead, I looked down, living one day at a time.
At school, I went from being the teacher's pet to the bottom of the class. And at the end of the day, I would wait outside for someone to pick me up–five minutes, fifteen minutes, one hour, two hours. Sometimes, the school would close before I was picked up.
My friends knew what they would be studying at Uni. I couldn't even focus on getting the marks I needed to pass to finish high school.
But one day, in my teenage years, I was offered a short flight on a small plane. While up there in the air, I realised two things: the horizon was much further away from the one I could see from the ground, and that plane could send me away from all my problems.
Eventually, the same plane returned me to where I was 15 minutes before, but that experience made me fall in love with travel and aviation.
From that moment, I wanted to become a pilot. Aged 18, I had a go at it. I started training, but I couldn't afford to complete it. Again, I had failed.
Wanting to be a pilot became such a hurtful thought that I decided to bury it.
And I'm glad that happened. I had the space to live a life that allowed me to discover the arts, move to the U.K., meet my wife, have the family I never had, and help over 7,000 children travelling for cancer treatment.
But as with everything you bury without proper processing, flying and that feeling it gave me as a teenager slowly returned.
With Jane's support, I returned to flight training and gained my wings twenty years after my first attempt.
Today, I fly a small plane we named Saoirse, which means Freedom in Irish.
Every takeoff teaches me that the horizon stretches further than I thought, problems feel smaller, and belief in a brighter tomorrow grows stronger—just like the hope I needed as a child, a hope that eventually came true.
When I look at those seats in Saoirse, I see children and families feeling it, too. They're finding hope, soaring away from their troubles, even if just for a few precious hours, building memories they will never forget.
I'm not that boy anymore, but I know how wonderful life can be, even if you had a challenging beginning.
If you know someone in need of a flight, please send them this link - www.fernando.today/families