By Joseph E. (Jeb) Burnside

Some of my most memorable flights involve night flying, both for good and bad reasons. On the good side, I recall breathtaking sunsets, full, orange moons on the horizon, distant lightning and flying down New York City’s East River after departing the now-closed Flushing Airport. On the bad side, I remember flogging a Skyhawk through a cold front into Asheville, N.C., shortly after getting my Instrument rating, plus getting nailed by a Hickory, N.C., used-car dealer’s spotlight in that same Skyhawk years later. And then there was the time ... well, you get the idea. …