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Steve Denomme's movie script for his aviation career could be "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly," with the first of the three adjectives being the star of the show most of the time. 

Now a captain for the 2000 graduate of the °ÄÃÅÁùºÏ²Ê¹ÙÍøÖ±²¥ College of Aviation has enjoyed the "Good" of an exciting career for two decades, endured the "Bad" his industry faced -- and is still facing -- because of the Covid pandemic, and like the rest of us -- was staggered under the ramifications of the "Ugly" -- the 9-11 hijackings that changed how life is lived on planet Earth. 

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 Denomme was raised, the son of a police officer, in Oakland County's Waterford Township, a community of 70,000 northwest of Detroit.  The 1996 alumnus of thought he would be following in his father's footsteps when it came to a career, even though early on he had initial leanings toward being a pilot. 
 
That "leaning" was prompted by the fact his home was under one of the runway approaches for the .  "When the jets came over our house, we had to stop talking because they were so loud.  My friends thought it was hilarious, but I never knew anything different.  It was my introduction into what I would be doing with my life." 
 
Initially deciding that "flying wasn't in my cards and I wasn't sure how to get into aviation," he says, "I visited °ÄÃÅÁùºÏ²Ê¹ÙÍøÖ±²¥'s campus in Kalamazoo with the intent of majoring in criminal justice.  I immediately loved the campus, its vibrations and the people I encountered.  Kalamazoo was far enough away from home and seemed perfect for me.  Just before we began to leave to drive home came this announcement -- 'Anyone interested in the School of Aviation?'"  How about Steve Denomme? 

At the time, the program was based at the .  His tour was there, but by the following fall it would be headquartered in a new facility at .  "I was instantly sold, and done with criminology," Denomme recalls.  "I never finished the other two college applications I had considered."  He would be a Bronco with a major in aviation flight science with minors in business management and geography (meteorology). 
 
At the new headquarters for the program, Denomme would not be the only new face.  Another one of the new ones belonged to Tom Grossman, who at the time was launching his almost quarter-of-a-century career at the °ÄÃÅÁùºÏ²Ê¹ÙÍøÖ±²¥ College of Aviation, 19-plus years as the chief flight instructor.  Grossman, who would play a key role in launching Denomme's career in aviation, brought with him a nice chunk of experience gained at Kent State University. 
 
Denomme's first job at the College of Aviation was as a line person.  "We moved planes in and out of the hangars in the morning and evening," he says.  "Did refueling and other jobs students needed done to get in their flying. It was a great and fun job because it kept me at the airport where I wanted to be after my classes were finished for the day. It continued my learning of all things aviation." 
 
By his senior year, Denomme had been tapped by Grossman to be a certified flight instructor.  "That's where I honed my flying skills," he says.  "I had amazing students, some of whom I currently work with.  Others are throughout the world with major and national airlines, or as medical flight operators.  I'm proud of all of them." 
 
Accompanied by Grossman, Denomme interviewed with , a regional operation based in Minnesota, and he was hired in August of 2001 as a first officer piloting Saab 340s, a Swedish twin-engine turboprop that could carry three-dozen passengers.  Mesaba would eventually merge with in 2012 and is now part of the family.  While in his training, like the rest of the world, he watched New York's Twin Towers come down in a Pearl Harbor moment for the nation.  Although he was called back to finish training, Denomme was furloughed by Mesaba that October. 

It was Grossman to the rescue.  Denomme and other alumni were hired back by the college to fill instructional positions, which kept him in the industry until March of 2002 when Mesaba again beckoned him for Saab 340 duty as a first officer. 
 
October was becoming an unlucky month for Denomme because Mesaba again put him on the shelf that fall of 2002.  "This was the worst time to be furloughed in aviation," he says, "because everyone, including °ÄÃÅÁùºÏ²Ê¹ÙÍøÖ±²¥, was letting pilots go due to the huge drop in demand and the nationwide recession. It was a long nine months.  For the first six, I couldn't find any kind of employment." 
 
In previous summers during his college years, Denomme had earned a paycheck from the .  From "The High and the Mighty," had he descended to "The Low and the Insignificant?"  Not really.  "Bloomfield financially, and probably mentally saved me," he says.  "I was a general laborer digging ditches, doing minor road repair and landscape jobs, and performing other labor-intensive duties.  What I also learned is that I loved aviation and needed to get back there as soon as possible." 
 
That became reality in June of 2003 when Mesaba called him back for Saab 340 service, but for the next two-plus years Denomme kept his Bloomfield Township ties to help him recover financially.  He flew for eight years as a first officer before earning his captain's bars.  Next was being a "line check airman" for the Saab fleet. "I found lots of pride being the last part of the training cycle to teach and sign off on new captains and first officers to fly on their own."  The next step was into management as Mesaba's "domicile chief pilot" at its Detroit hub and, after a year, as its chief pilot for all Mesaba operations. 
 
Things were happening to "regionals" during this time.  Mesaba became part of Pinnacle and all were rebranded as Endeavor Air.  Denomme called it "an incredible time in the history of regional aviation" and he lived it, maintaining his "chief pilot" status along the way for more than four years.  But then it was back into the air as a captain of a Detroit-based CRJ 900, a plane designed to fly in the most extreme cold-weather conditions. 
 
It wasn't long before the aviation version of baseball's "The Show' called.  One of the majors, , with flights serving 60 countries, asked him to interview in September of 2014.  Two months later, he was wearing a Delta uniform, flying a MD(McDonnell-Douglas)88 out of Atlanta, Ga.  Nicknamed "Mad Dog, this species of airliner had been launched in 1986.  The 88 was the last of the breed and could carry 155 passengers.  "I had always wanted to fly an iconic T-tail aircraft," he says.  "It was an amazing part of my life and being part of Delta was an absolute dream. The MD-88 is a pilot's airplane and I learned a ton. 
 
"Almost all the captains I flew with had been on the aircraft for at least a decade," Denomme says.  "They were some of the best people I ever worked with.  The knowledge I gained is still invaluable."  But the southern assignment lasted only about 18 months.  Back he came to Detroit Delta and piloting the Airbus 320 fleet.  Developed in 1987, this narrow-body airliner could carry up to 170 people.  This assignment too was relatively short-lived.  He was asked to become assistant chief pilot in the Detroit Chief Pilots Office.  "Honored" and "humbled," he assumed that task in June of 2016. 
 
"This was an amazing time for Delta and myself," he says.  "The airline was doing very well every year financially and operationally. We were transitioning from the (Boeing) 747 to the Airbus 350 (designed for the longest of flights with a wide body that could hold up to 400 passengers), which I could experience first-hand.  What an amazing and talented bunch of people to work with!  We have a bond that will last our lifetimes." 
 
Denomme's lifetime would change again after three years in the Delta office.  In June of 2019, he was back in the flight deck of the  A320.  By the fall, he was just about completing flying the "Who's Who" of airliners in the world of aviation, when he was awarded the A350, with training slated to begin February of 2020.  Then it was time for the "Bad," as the Covid plague again changed the world.  Due to the pandemic, Denomme never went to training and the award was cancelled.  However, he says, "I was very lucky to remain on the A320 fleet throughout the Covid downturn."  Once aviation and Delta began to execute a recovery, he earned his captain's wings in August of 2021. 
 
All of this came about, Denomme believes, because of his four years at Western, starting with the influence on him that Grossman and Eric Johnson, his flight instructor, had.  "Being the lazy kid that I was," Denomme says, "Eric would never let me get away with being a lazy pilot.  To this day, I am incredibly grateful for that.  I am the pilot I am today because of Eric.  We were in each other's weddings and for years flew for Mesaba together.  We are still the best of friends." 
 
As stated before, Grossman went with Denomme on his interview in Detroit with Mesaba.  "That put me at ease and I could just be myself," he says.  "That one encounter helped set me up for a wonderful life and a career progression all the way to Delta." 
 
As a "regular" Bronco during his °ÄÃÅÁùºÏ²Ê¹ÙÍøÖ±²¥ years, he affiliated with Western's chapter of the of America.  He was a member of the Bronco Marching Band's drum line during his first two years.  Ironically, a hometown acquaintance, Gordy Gillette, was also a member of the music fraternity and explained its true mission -- a commitment to community service and leadership that fit Denomme's personal ethos. "When I had to stop playing in the drum line because of flying and scheduling needs, Sinfonia was my outlet for music." 

There were and , cross-country flights as a student pilot to Chicago and destinations in northern Michigan, operating the college's Cessna 172 Skyhawk that was taxi-ing Northwest Airlines' donated Boeing 747 to its resting place on campus, and -- best of all -- meeting his future wife.  
 
His career -- so far -- has taken him all over the United States, Canada, Mexico and the Caribbean.  He's been something of a role model as the first pilot in the family. A cousin and a niece (currently enrolled in Western's program) have since earned their wings.  Family time is spent snow skiing and boating, depending on the season.  "I'm trying to get back into flying for fun," he says.  "I haven't flown a single-engine airplane since the last instruction I gave at °ÄÃÅÁùºÏ²Ê¹ÙÍøÖ±²¥ in February of 2002." 
 
Somewhere in between the good, the bad and the ugly of his career has been "the Surreal."  That was the energy blackout that gripped the East Coast in August of 2003.  He and his Mesaba crew in Detroit were about to start their flight "when everything went dark."  After the emergency generators kicked on, he joined fellow pilots and first officers in the terminal to assist passengers and the public stuck in stairwells, at the gates and wherever needed.  Denomme eventually boarded a Saab and for the next eight hours played "Communications Guy." 

"I became the radio relay between our landing/flying aircraft and dispatch," he says, "while sitting in a Saab 340 plugged into a ground power unit with the hose of a ground air cart running up the stairs into the cockpit cooling me down.  Saabs are notoriously hot, especially in August.  Leaving the airport that night was very eerie as the airport grounds were the only light source in the area.  All of Metro Detroit was in total blackout." 
 
Denomme has spoken to the college's chapters of Women in Aviation International and Alpha Eta Rho, the fraternity that links the aviation industry with higher education.  Even more than the blackout, he's got some tales to tell -- two furloughs, two airline bankruptcies, a merger of three airlines, and such global life-shattering events as the Gulf War, Covid and 9-11.  He can tell about a paper he wrote chronicling Mesaba Airlines in late 1999, a year before his internship and 11 years prior to becoming its chief pilot helping to run the entire flight operation. 
 
"It is very ironic to me," he says, "that I had written an in-depth history of an airline that I would eventually help run, help grow, then ultimately shut down as the last chief.  Mesaba had been the longest-running regional airline in the United States." 
 
Denomme says he loves "sharing my experiences.  When I got into aviation, I knew very little about the field in its entirety.  I knew that I wanted to fly, but where that would take me I didn't know.  I just jumped in with both feet, working my way to what interested me.  I hope I can give today's students the information that I myself did not have at that time in my life.  I do know that I would not be where I am today without Western and its mentors.  I spread that message whenever and wherever I can." 
 
For Steve Denomme, it hasn't been an easy ride.  But despite the ups and downs -- the turbulence -- it's all been worth the ride.