Jerry took over two years to get to the point where he could fly inverted. Nearly every time he went inverted or flew outside loops, he'd crash a plane.
He just kept at it, crashing and repairing and crashing and rebuilding, until he could manage inverted flight.
Last year he finally stopped crashing nearly every flight. This year he was flying Beginner and getting good enough that people were using the word "intermediate" in conversations with him.
Through all of this he maintained a positive and helpful attitude -- at the Fireballs' spring meet, when Gene Pape cut a finger in the combat circle and needed to go to the emergency room, Jerry took him even though it meant giving up his chance to fly in the contest -- he ended up flying one official flight because we were delayed by weather, and because as soon as we saw his car we stopped putting away the paraphernalia and got him out and ready to fly.
I'm going to miss Jerry. I'm going to miss his sense of humor, I'm going to miss his stories of using his position as a near-retiree to torture his bosses at the Post Office, I'm going to miss having him in the background, pitching in to help with whatever task is going begging. I think that every time I hit a plateau in my own development as a stunt pilot, I'm going to think about Jerry being stuck for over two years trying to master flying wheels up, and I'm going to put my head down and plow through, no matter how long it takes.
Good bye, Jerry, and I wish you all the best.