Michael Mikolay
July 15, 2026
My family has a bit of a love-hate relationship with my cell phone.
They understand that when it rings, something probably needs attention. Sometimes it's good news, like an accepted offer on an aircraft acquisition.
Other times it's a transaction that's hit a snag, a client with a concern or an unexpected issue that needs a decision, a conversation, or simply a path forward.
What none of us knows is when that phone is going to ring. It might be during dinner, late at night, or on a weekend when everyone else assumes business has paused for a few days.
Helping clients navigate aircraft transactions rarely confines itself to normal business hours because challenges have a way of arriving on their own schedule.
Over the years, I've realized the phone call itself is rarely the challenge. It's what comes next.
I've yet to be involved in an aircraft deal where everything goes exactly according to plan. There are always issues to work through, schedules to adjust, or decisions that affect everyone else's work. That's simply the nature of a complex transaction.
After enough years doing this, I've learned that airplanes are usually the straightforward part. It's aligning people, expectations and decisions that takes the most effort.
That lesson came into focus during a recent acquisition for a first-time owner purchasing a large-cabin Gulfstream.
On paper, the timeline looked manageable. In reality,, we only had a few weeks to complete the pre-purchase inspection, import the aircraft into the U.S., place it on the FAA registry, coordinate with the aircraft management company and prepare it for its first business flight before the end of the client's fiscal year.
Looking at the schedule—and an even longer checklist—it was obvious we couldn't treat any step in isolation. A delay in one area would ripple through the rest of the project.
The transaction brought together aviation attorneys, the client's legal and financial advisors, technical inspectors, DAR import specialists, maintenance providers and the aircraft management company. Everyone around the table brought deep expertise.
As the client's advisor, I had the advantage of seeing how every piece fit together. My responsibility was making sure those pieces stayed connected while ensuring that the entire team was focused on the client's experience.
That's why I asked everyone to join a kickoff call before the pace accelerated.
It wasn't about telling experienced professionals how to do their jobs. Everyone already knew their responsibilities. It was about ensuring that everyone knew what the client was trying to accomplish and how each decision affected the next person in line.
The goal was straightforward: have the aircraft in service on or before June 30, the end of the client's fiscal year, so it would qualify for bonus depreciation.
Missing that date wasn't simply an inconvenience. It would have had significant financial implications for the client.
Once everyone understood the objective and why June 30 mattered, you could feel the conversation change. It was no longer one client’s deadline. It became our team’s mission.
I remember saying something like, "This isn't going to be easy, but it's absolutely doable. We're going to hit bumps over the next two weeks—that's inevitable. If something changes, don't sit on it. Pick up the phone. The sooner everyone knows, the easier it'll be for the rest of us to adjust."
When the call ended, nobody had solved a single problem yet. We hadn't completed an inspection or filed any paperwork. But what we had done was make sure everyone understood the mission before the pace picked up.
One thing I didn't want was for the client to spend those two weeks chasing six different organizations for updates. That responsibility stayed with us.
We couldn't prevent every challenge that was coming, but we could make sure everyone started from the same place before the pressure began.
With that many organizations involved and only two weeks to get everything done, surprises were inevitable.
As expected, inspection findings, import requirements, FAA registration and avionics scheduling all affected the timeline. One change often required several others.
What impressed me, though, was how quickly people shared information and adjusted because everyone understood the bigger picture. The aircraft entered service on schedule, allowing the client to complete his first flight on June 30.
After the aircraft entered service, I sent a thank-you email to everyone involved. We had accomplished what we set out to do, and I wanted to recognize the teamwork that made it possible.
One reply has stayed with me.
A new aviation partner who had worked alongside us throughout the project said what stood out most wasn't the technical work. It was how connected the project stayed from beginning to end.
Coming from someone who had experienced the project alongside us, that meant a great deal to me.
His note reinforced something I've come to appreciate over the years. The airplane may be what brings everyone together, but it isn't where most of the work happens.
By the time we reached closing, many of the most important decisions had already been made.
Expectations had been established. Communication was already flowing. People understood the client's priorities, and they trusted one another enough to raise concerns early instead of waiting until they became bigger problems.
That's the work clients rarely see, but it's often what determines whether a complex transaction feels coordinated or chaotic.
Early in my career, I believed the fastest response was usually the best response.
But experience has taught me to slow down. Before trying to solve a problem, I listen first, ask questions and ensure everyone is working from the same information.
When I'm working through a difficult situation, I come back to one question: What does the client need from me right now?
Over the years, I’ve come to believe that people rarely judge me by whether challenges occur. They judge me by how I respond when they do—whether I stay calm, communicate clearly, help them understand their options and keep the deal moving forward.
I've never viewed a closing as the finish line. Aircraft transactions eventually come to an end, but the relationships they create shouldn't.
Some of the most rewarding phone calls I've received have come months – or years later –when a client calls looking for advice on their next decision. Those conversations remind me that the relationship mattered just as much as the transaction.
My family still has a bit of a love-hate relationship with my cell phone. The calls still come during dinner, late at night and on weekends, and I suspect they always will.
They're rarely about the airplane itself. They're about knowing someone will answer the phone, help work through the situation and see it through.
To me, success has never been measured by how many transactions I've closed. It’s measured by the clients who still pick up the phone.
This AirMail Focus column originally appeared on GlobalAir.com.