BB&C Flying Service, Part One

Sign courtesy of Dic Kruse

It was September 1989.  Wayne Broome was working in Conway, South Carolina, fourteen nautical miles inland from Myrtle Beach on South Carolina's Grand Strand.  As Hurricane Hugo approached the southeast coast Wayne moved his 1947 Taylorcraft BC-12D seventy-one nautical miles northwest to the Richmond County Airport in Rockingham, North Carolina, safely out of harm's way---or so he thought.  Hugo made landfall slightly north of Charleston, South Carolina as a Category 4 hurricane with winds gusting up to 160 mph.  The storm tracked to the northwest and was still a Category 1 hurricane when it passed seventy miles west of Rockingham.  Unfortunately, seventy miles was too close.  Gusty winds caused a Cessna Cardinal to break free from a tie-down and smack Wayne's pride and joy on the right wingtip, breaking the aileron and cracking both wing spars.  Heartbroken, Wayne disassembled the airplane and placed it in a storage unit, hoping to make repairs as soon as possible.

Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.  John Lennon

Wayne's Taylorcraft first entered the Jellystoners' zone of consciousness in 2006 when Wayne and Brother Baker were paired together at Freedom Airlines.  You can learn a lot about a person when you sit beside him (or her) six to nine hours a day, three or more days a week, flying a monthly schedule.  After one leg you know if your flying partner is a true aviator, or someone just collecting a paycheck flying airplanes.  You can see where this is heading; Wayne and Brother Baker got along famously!  While swapping life stories Wayne described how his little yellow T-Craft came together with a Cessna Cardinal in the Big Blow of 89---and how for seventeen years he was hoping to make repairs as soon as possible, but life kept getting in the way. . .

In 2010 the Brother Baker asked Wayne if he would consider selling N5113M.  The Taylorcraft seemed like a reasonably simple first project for the restoration department at Jellystone Air Park.  Wayne said, "No."  Then he commissioned a drawing depicting a Hawkins & Powers C-54, his dog Spot, and the Taylorcraft.  Maybe the drawing would be the spark to get the fire burning. . .

Drawing by Joe Baker, 2010

Eight years later we gave it another try.  This time Wayne said, "Yes."

Remember the wisecrack about the old hound dog chasing an automobile?  What's he going to do when he finally catches the car?  The Jellystoners had just offered to purchase, sight unseen, a seventy-one year old tube and fabric airplane that had not seen the light of day in twenty-nine years. . .   

Brother Barbeau was out of town; so with flashlight and Maule fabric tester in hand, Brother Baker and I met Wayne in Rockingham, North Carolina on a hot day in June of 2018.  N5113M was everything Wayne said it would be, and more.  It was a complete airplane, all of the parts were in one place.  The fuselage tubing was corrosion free, even the tail post---a nice surprise, because this is a known problem with tube and fabric airplanes that sit for long periods.  Wayne's attention to detail---preserving the engine; storing the airplane in a level attitude; keeping metal parts off the floor---was our good fortune.  Even the circa 1973 fabric tested OK, except for the big hole in the right wingtip.  Another surprise:  Seaplane doors!  The 337 Form in the logbook is beautiful, and the doors are works of art---but as far as we can tell, One Three Mike has never been on floats.         

N5113M in the storage unit in Rockingham, North Carolina, twenty-nine years after Hurricane Hugo.

The mighty Continental 65---only 150 hours (after a complete overhaul) when Wayne preserved the engine for storage.

No corrosion!

No electrical system.

February 16, 2019

The recovery team:  Bob Cottom, Joe Baker, Pop Cottom, Gary Barbeau, and Wayne Broome.

On the road to Jellystone Air Park.

BB&C Flying Service

Stay tuned, our adventure is just beginning!

The French Foreign Legion

A little over three years ago I bumped into an old friend in the crew lounge at LaGuardia.  His name is Don Miller, and we have similar backgrounds:  Both civilian trained, former Eastern Airlines pilots; thankful to have survived the "angry times" that permeated the airline industry during the 1980s and 1990s.  Don is a couple of years senior to me at Big D, and like the Exotic Guy (UAL Captain Duncan Flett) is a second generation airline pilot.  His father, Lee, was the senior Atlanta based 727 captain at Eastern Airlines when we were new hires in 1985---and possibly the nicest gentlemen I have ever shared a cockpit with.  It's not surprising that Don inherited his father's disposition.  I always enjoy our chance encounters.

This particular meeting took place shortly after Big D had announced it's plan to retire the "Maddog" fleet.  All of the one hundred and ten MD-88s, and most of the sixty-five MD-90s, would be retired by 2020.  Cincinnati was closing immediately; New York by the end of the first quarter in 2018; Minneapolis and Atlanta would follow.  Don was flying the Maddog out of Atlanta.  I asked what his plans were with regards to the draw down.  He said, "I'm going to the ER. (Boeing 757/767)  I'll be on reserve; but I live in the area, so it's not a big deal.  I got the award on the last advance entitlement."  When he asked about my plans, I said, "I've been trying to decide what to do for quite a while.  Five years ago I would have said the ER.  Now I don't want to commute to reserve.  I liked flying the 737, but it's extremely noisy on the flight deck.  I'm seriously considering the A320.  Everyone says it's a nice retirement airplane."  As we were parting Don said something that I haven't been able to put out of my mind.  He said, "I turn sixty next month.  In the old days I would be retiring; but instead I'm going to school on the ER.  It's not how I imagined it would all shake out."

I was dreading making the call.  For years I harassed the EG about flying a sissy French airplane---now I was considering joining the French Foreign Legion!  Like Don, I was looking at going back to school at age sixty.  The Airbus A320 was the first transport category airplane designed as a fly through computer aircraft---totally different from anything I had ever flown before.  The EG was the most experienced A320 pilot I knew.  Before I signed on the dotted line I wanted to know if he thought an old Maddog pilot could learn new tricks.  Another concern:  Did Captain Flett resent being called a sissy for the last fifteen years?  It was time to take my (well deserved) lumps.

I won't lie to you.  Captain Flett was amused!  He was also very reassuring.  Exactly what you would expect from an experienced, senior line check airman.  Towards the end of our conversation he said, "I think you will really enjoy flying the airplane---you are going to love the tray table!"  For those that are unfamiliar, the A320 has a side stick controller; as opposed to a control yoke on the MD-88, and other conventionally designed airplanes.  Tray tables are located in storage compartments below each pilot's instrument panel.  Squeezing a lever on the bottom of the panel allows the table to extend into position.  Squeeze the lever again and the table retracts back into the panel.  Operation is completely manual.  (Allowing the table to slam shut is a serious faux pas.)  Airbus pilots are always talking about the tray table.  I used to think it was because they couldn't think of anything better to say about the airplane.  Boeing 757 pilots will expound for hours about the performance of their sweet handling machine.  My friend, Rick Maury, has this to say about the A320, and it's fly through computer system:  "It's a good airplane.  It will make a weak pilot look good.  It will make a strong pilot look good."  There you have it---everything is good.

But the flight deck is great!  My hat is off to the team that designed the cockpit.  It really is a nice working environment.  The seats are comfortable, there is plenty of room, and the EFIS displays are well thought out.  The air-conditioning system is fantastic.  I flew the MD-88 for eleven years; I know what I'm talking about!  After two years, and twelve hundred hours, I think I know why the Airbus folks only talk about the tray table.  I think they worry that if everyone knew what they knew, everyone would want what they have, and some of those folks might be senior to them.  It really is that nice.     

The EG was right.  I love the tray table.