Episode 190 is what happens when you hand the mic to Captain CJ “Heater” Healy and then just try to keep up. Heater takes us from a childhood obsession with WWII airplanes to roller-coaster “G-training,” to flying—then teaching—at the highest levels of naval aviation. Along the way, we hit the $10 “Mexican Justice of the Peace” wedding that turned into a 53-year marriage, the fighter-pilot path that almost didn’t happen, and the mind-bending world of MiGs at Area 51 — yes, the ones that “smelled like a hydraulic leak with an electrical fire.” — Heater also reveals how a single photograph helped spark Top Gun, plus what it was like being on set and shooting real missile events that almost ended VERY badly with a very non-digital camera… including mid-flight film surgery. This one’s a top-five all-timer—no doubt.

In this week’s episode of So There I Was, Ike joins us with stories so wild they make the Quigley, Beirut, and Cherry Point weather sound like minor inconveniences. We open with Ike casually mentioning that he once found himself upside-down over the North Atlantic at night — because of course he did. From growing up under the Nashville approach path to being choked in boot camp for laughing, to nearly “smoking” the British ambassador in Beirut when his door gunner got jumpy, Ike’s journey from farm kid to single-seat attack pilot is a rollercoaster with no safety bar.

We hit everything: CH-46 shenanigans, A-4 aileron rolls where drop tanks were definitely still attached, Harrier culture, maintenance-shop misery, and why flying vertical is basically a religion. Add in toilet installations on mountain peaks, British PT instructors who try to kill you, and Marines being Marines… and you’ve got an episode that is equal parts chaos, nostalgia, and aviation gold.

B-2 stealth bomber test pilot Sparky joins So There I Was to explain why the world’s sneakiest bomber still can’t go direct to Liberal, Kansas without a paperwork migraine. From “switches up, auto missile, eat a sandwich” bomb runs to 24-hour missions fueled by go-pills, honey buckets, and a hacked-together cot, he walks us through life in a jet built for nuclear armageddon but terrible at simple IFR. Then we follow him to test pilot school at Edwards, where he flies everything from F-16s to flying boats, helps beat up the “Franken-tanker” KC-46, and explains how big airliners survive stalls, rejected takeoffs, and absurd crosswinds. Sparky also tells the sobering story of losing a classmate in a T-38 crash—and the piano-burning tradition that followed—before closing with the truly unbelievable tale of how Wayne Newton kissing his wife on stage earned him his call sign.