By Eric Blinderman
Something recently said to an airport director caused a cocked head and a puzzled look.
“Your story is not an aviation one,” he was told.
For someone who lives and breathes airport operations and making sure it fits the needs of the pilot community, it was an understandable reaction. That’s his world. It’s in his title and job description. Aviation, what he does, 24/7.
This was not meant to discount his daily responsibilities to pilots, aircraft owners and tenants. That’s the community he serves every day. That’s the mission inside the fence. Keep revenue flowing. Keep operations robust. Keep things safe. We need all that.
History shows local GA airports aren’t threatened when they lose revenue. They’re threatened when they lose the community.
Long-term survival is what happens outside the fence. In a way, permission to succeed.
That’s a term we often throw around a lot in aviation: “outside the fence.” The other folks. The aviation muggles. Non-pilots. People you don’t usually see at the airport. But just because they’re out of sight, we can’t keep them out of mind.
Outside the fence is where value applies most. It’s not hyperbole that an airport’s long-term survival depends on the story being told ‘out there,’ and the one embraced by the community.
As we said in the consumer goods world, “when they buy into you, they’ll buy from you.”
If the story’s not about aviation, then what? It’s what it does for me. What it means to me? How my life benefits from it. It’s not the planes, it’s the people. How aviation and the local airport provides value.
And that’s where a disconnect often rests.
Live outside the fence and there’s a good chance you have no idea what goes on in the big tract of land. “Boys with their toys,” we’ve heard. A waste of space. Great spot for housing or a shopping center. Maybe a park or even a data center (the horror).
If your airport’s story is being told for you, I can almost guarantee it’s not a very flattering one.
First, remember that everyone has a story. People have stories. Companies, brands, non-profits, associations have one. Local airports especially have one, whether you‘ve intentionally built one or not, whether you like it or not. It’s simply what you mean to the community, the expectations placed upon you, and the value you offer.
What’s up for grabs is who’s telling it. Who owns it? What are they saying? And does the airport story naturally weave into the community one? Does the airport story enhance the story that each resident carries with them?
Take O’Hare, or Hartsfield, or Dulles. When people drive by, they know the story of that airport: that’s how I get across the country to a meeting, that how my family gets to Disney. That airport has a very defined value that is not often questioned. It’s part of the community and residents’ everyday life. For the most part, the larger commercial airport owns its own story.
On the other hand, when someone (a citizen, business leader or elected official) drives by one of our more than 5,500 public-use GA airport, the story gets murkier. Unless you fly or have business at or with the airport, its value is not usually front-and-center. And that vacuum is often filled by mistruths and misperceptions. That’s when the story gets away from us. A negative that’s unfolding in far too many locales across the U.S. We all know of them.
What people don’t understand, they don’t appreciate, value or support. That’s why education is among the single most important tasks an airport director has on his or her shoulders. Ensuring the community knows the value story of the airport; what it means to the community. What it means to the individual and the greater good.
It’s not that people necessarily disapprove of the local airport (although we know many do), most just have no idea what goes on there. Do they know it:
- Provides hundreds of jobs and millions in direct revenue, or a boatload in taxes?
- Serves as the local staging area for search and rescue, disaster relief, law enforcement, agricultural support?
- Helps fill our nation’s pilot shortage through flight training?
- Often determines if a company sets up shop, or decides to do business in the city or town?
All of this may be intuitive for us. Because we’re so deep in the weeds, we often assume everyone knows our airport’s value story. Just canvas the community and you may find a very different story – literally.
Again, “telling stories” may not be in your job description. And it may not be a pressing issue given the never-ending to-do list on your desk. But we need to realize that in GA, connecting with the community isn’t a soft marketing task or the PR stuff that “I’ll get to when the field is mowed or the taxiway light is replaced, or when I settle that festering hangar issue.” I’m too busy to tell a story. Or be worried about it.
Please, worry about it. And do something about it.
Local airports across the country are in the crosshairs of community members for all of the – misguided – reasons we’ve discussed. And it almost always traces back to a fundamental lack of understanding of what the airport provides to residents, the benefits that only GA airports can offer, especially in times of need or peril. The untold, or misunderstood value story.
Taking care of the field is certainly important stuff. Without it, we don’t have a functioning airport. But there may be no more important issue than your story, developing it, telling it, and protecting it. The fact that your airport’s long-term survival may depend on it is not an overstatement. Others have found that the hard way.
(In the next article, we’ll explore how to take hold of your story, how and where to tell it in ways that connect with the community in authentic ways.)
Eric Blinderman is the principal of Narrative Aviation, a DC-region communications consultancy enabling airports and aviation companies to own and tell their own stories, before others do. Eric led communications at AOPA for nearly five years after serving in leadership roles at top NYC communications and marketing firms. He is also a proud private pilot. He can be reached at ericbct@gmail.com or 203-727-5005.
