June 6, 1918 in Bryan, Ohio,
he started his long journey
up the transportation chain.
from three to two wheels,
from pedals to motors, Max piloted
them all. He flew passengers
over Bryan's curbs on his sidecar
equipped Indian motorcycle.
He treated friends and
family to warm summer night
cruises in his '56 Chevy and
his favorite "hole in the
water", a sleek cabin cruiser
appropriately named the Starlight.
his life's many trips to the
airport, Max drove everything
from a Model T to a diesel Rabbit.
His Hudson's (2) and his
Studebaker were Boeing Field
icons. In the air Max
graduated from biplanes to DC-3',
F27's, DC-9's and on to 727's.
After the riggers of commercial
jets and a touch of gray hair,
Max up and decided to 'learn
to fly' and took to the air
again only this time his airport
was Lake Washington. Max
soon mastered pontoons.
could tell a story, his exploits
in Bryan, sailing the town's
drainage ditches, pumping gas
and fixing tires in the Christman
Garage, and mid-winter tow truck
expeditions, were just the preliminary
exploits to flying below the
clouds in Alaska, to short landings
in Hoquiam and sour dough runs
to San Francisco. Max told tons
of tales, and of course he knew
a joke or two (thousands!):
each anecdote and punch line
was delivered with Max's trademark
sparkling blue eyes, quick smile
and infectious laugh.
married Sally in 1961 and inherited
an instant family that included
Carol, Rich, and Pam, and which
over the years grew to include
six grandchildren and two great-granddaughters.
Max took on his new family
with grace and aplomb. He
was a quick study in the art
of parenting except it took
his great granddaughter and
85 years to get him to change
his first diaper. Throughout
all the standard childhood tribulations,
Max's blue eyes kept twinkling.
He was a great dad.
was a Quiet Birdman, a R.A.R.E.
member, a Monday Lunch Buncher
and an early morning McDonald's
regular. He was a dahlia
grower, a garage tinkerer, a
brewer, and a crossword puzzler.
He will be missed