Bennett Taber steers his small aircraft toward the San Francisco Peninsula at 25,000 feet in the air, keenly aware that he is flying between tragedy and salvation. As he leaves Fresno behind, he carries just one passenger: a small cardboard box containing the freshly harvested heart of a young man, destined for Stanford’s cardiothoracic surgery team. On missions this critical, air traffic control can divert the paths of 747s to make way for his precious cargo. After the handoff, Taber will park his plane at the San Carlos Airport, home to a small colony of remarkable wingless creatures — a generous, tightknit group of local pilots who regard flying as much more than a hobby.

Airport manager Gretchen Kelly (right) and assistant airport manager Christopher St. Peter (Photo by Philip Wartena)

If non-flyers have even heard of SQL (the airport code for San Carlos), it’s most often because of noise complaints lodged by locals under its flight paths. While public perception can cast small airports as harbors of upper-crust interests, that hardly nicks the surface of what SQL offers.

“It’s this whole world we live in that people don’t even know exists,” airport manager Gretchen Kelly says. The 110-acre county-owned property punches above its real estate weight, launching medical and rescue flights, hosting three flight schools and providing space for a total of about 400 planes. Privately owned and chartered planes may dominate public perception of small airports, but the small community of passionate pilots forms the true backbone of SQL.