Time To Redirect

In March I received the following text message from Brother Baker:  Flew with a guy who wants to get some Luscombe time and is willing to trade for time in his airplane---a Stearman!  He's in North Georgia.  Heckuva nice guy!  I'll keep you updated.  A few weeks later, another message:  Maybe you can swing a day next week and we can head over to Georgia and meet the guy with the Stearman. . .  Then the Monday before last:  You off Friday?  Chris (Stearman guy) suggested Friday.  He's at Mountain Field, near Cleveland, GA.  Just under two hours in the Luscombe.  OK, about 2:20 figuring MPH vs knots. . .

I know what you're thinking.  The Stearman guy is getting a pretty good deal.  In this day and age it's almost impossible to find a venue where a person can experience, first hand, the joy of flying the delightful feather-light all-metal Luscombe Silvair---leave those clodhopper boots at home, Chris the Stearman Guy, ballet slippers are what you need in the '47 8A.  Kudos to Brother Baker for making it happen!  Except it didn't.  But I'm getting ahead of myself. . .

The outfit that Brother Barbeau works for is adding another airplane to it's stable:  A Cirrus SR22T, with all the bells and whistles.  Thursday evening Gary called and said the airplane was scheduled to arrive Friday.  Did I want to ride out to the airport Friday afternoon and check it out?  When I told him about Brother Baker's planned Stearman outing and the fact that I was invited to ride along, he said:  "Swapping time in a Luscombe for time in a Stearman.  Way to go Joe!  Think you'll get a ride too?"  I said:  "I don't think I'm part of the deal.  I'll be there for moral support and to take pictures; but I'm going to hit the ATM in the morning, just in case."

Brother Baker and I departed Jellystone Air Park at 0730 Friday morning---a pair of old school airline pilots in a non-FMS/GPS 1947 Luscombe 8A.  Today's junior birdmen (Airbus pilots and New Age "Any traffic in the Area" Embry-Riddle alumni) may be wondering how we could ever find our way.  Rest assured we had a plan---and a couple of sectional charts provided, free of charge, by the states of South Carolina and Georgia. The plan:  Follow the power lines that run southwest from Jellystone Air Park to Triple Tree Aerodrome, just south of Woodruff, South Carolina, then track a westerly course, passing a little south of Clemson, South Carolina and a little north of Toccoa, Georgia, to Mountain Field which is located a few miles southeast of Cleveland, Georgia. Precision navigation at it's best!  How does that old saying go?  "Measure it with a micrometre, cut it with an ax."

Approaching Triple Tree Brother Baker noticed he had a message on his iPhone.  It was from Chris the Stearman Guy.  Call me.  Not the message you want to see when you're almost half way to your first ride in a Stearman. . .  I told Joe I would fly while he typed.  A few minutes later, another message.  Joe held the screen so I could read.  It's really blowing here at the house.  Winds are forecast to be gusting to twenty knots.  It was Chris' way of saying:  "Sorry guys, it's not going to happen today."

I've never flown a Stearman.  I don't know how it handles in a gusty crosswind---but I have flown Brother Barbeau's Hatz biplane.  I completely understood where Chris the Stearman Guy was coming from.  So did Joe.  It was time to redirect---but simply returning to Jellystone Air Park seemed like an incredible waste of a nice morning.  When Brother Baker asked if there was anyplace special I'd like to go, I said:  "How about Eddie's place?"

If this is your first visit to Jellystone Air Park, Eddie is our good friend Eddie Price, Director of Operations and Chief Pilot at Pond Branch Airfield---fifteen hundred feet of slightly undulating turf (Brother Baker's locution) in the heart of the Sandland near Leesville, South Carolina---conveniently located on the CAE VOR 272 degree radial at 17.5 DME.

Thirty-five minutes after receiving the North Georgia weather report we were on the ground at Pond Branch Airfield. . .

    
The scene on Taxiway Alpha. . .  Yours truly with Brothers Price and Baker at the Center of the Universe (Eddie's locution.)

Photo by Joe Baker

Eddie Price, Director of Operations and Chief Pilot at Pond Branch Airfield, with his 1950 Cessna 140A.

Photo by Eddie Price

  
Runway 29 departure from the Center of the Universe. . .

Later in the day. . .

Remember that phone call from Brother Barbeau?

2016 Cirrus SR22T.

Looks inviting. . .

Pretty fancy!

Comes with an automated flight attendant safety briefing.

Brother Barbeau said:  "Just sit there and don't touch anything!"

Quote of the Day from 1989

Man has been dreaming of flight since history was inscribed on the walls of caves; for thousands of years this great accomplishment awaited our own time.

--- Ernest Kellogg Gann

Watch where you step!

The sign in the lobby of the Marriott Hotel in downtown Jackson, Mississippi read:  JACKSON, MS - ATTRACTIONS, SHOPPING, & FACILITIES.  There was a map that had circles with letters denoting where each attraction was located.  In the legend next to the letter J was written:  Mississippi Agriculture & Forestry Museum/National Agriculture Aviation Museum.  And I thought I would not have anything to do on my eighteen hour layover in Jackson, Mississippi . . .

Souther Field, Americus, Georgia, 1983.

I was a brand new, fresh out of the box, charter pilot---co-pilot, actually---on the job less than four months.  My captain; having successfully shoehorned our Cessna 402 into a parking space between a tired looking Cessna AGwagon and a nondescript hangar, said: "Watch your step out there," as I made my way back to open the door for our passengers. I thought he was just giving me a hard time because I was the new guy---probably concerned his wet behind the ears co-pilot might fall out of the airplane and embarrass himself in front of the customers.  A reasonable assumption, whether he knew it, or not. Navigating the cramped entryway in my size thirteen wingtip shoes was proving to be a challenge.  But I was careful---everyone made it out of the airplane safely, including me.

Once our passengers were safely on their way I had a chance to look around.  It was an overcast morning.  The air was damp and smelled sour.  The old asphalt ramp was just large enough to hold six transit airplanes.  In the weeds behind the ramp there was an old gray Stearman sprayer that had seen better days.  Next to the Stearman sat a Grumman Ag-Cat, also gray in color.  The FBO office was a single story afterthought beside a faded gray and white corrugated metal hangar.  It did not look inviting, nor did the old gray cat stretched out in the doorway.  My overall impression, at least at first glance:  There was not a lot of color in Americus, Georgia.  Except in the puddles on the ramp.  Here there was plenty of color.  Pinks, yellows, greens, and blues---rainbows of fertilizer and insecticide; which explained the sour smell.  Then it hit me.  My leader's caution was not about embarrassing myself in front of the passengers.  It was about stepping in something that might leave a lasting impression!  A quick glance down confirmed that I was safe for the time being.

By now my commander for the day had joined me on the ramp.  A couple of city-boy charter pilots in the middle of Georgia farm country.  After a few moments of taking in the sights and smells, he said: "Yeah, the first thing they teach you in crop dusting school is: Watch where you step.  The life you save may be your own!"

The National Agricultural Aviation Museum, Jackson, Mississippi, 2016

An eleven minute van ride from the Marriott Hotel in downtown Jackson.

Boeing Stearman . . . I'd swear old "Dusty" is trying to hide the fact that his trusty steed is sitting on bias ply automobile tires . . . Whitewalls too!

Spreaders . . .

"Cutback Duster," a modified 1947 Piper J-3 Cub.

Piper PA-25 Pawnee.

The prototype Grumman Ag-Cat.

National Agricultural Aviation Hall of Fame

Mr. C. E. Woolman.  That name rings a bell . . .

Mr. Kinky Shane, Beaumont, Texas . . . The first to plant rice from the air.  Don't you know he had a few stories to tell!

"Black Annie" cotton defoliant . . . That can't be good!

Crop Dusting in the Movies . . .

North by Northwest

"That's funny, that plane's dusting crops where there ain't no crops!"

For the young folks checking in . . .

This is a Cessna 402.

National Postal Museum

Recently a passenger asked if I had a favorite airport.  I had to pause for a moment.  It was the first time anyone had ever asked that question---and somewhat surprising considering I've been employed as an airline pilot for over thirty years.  I smiled, and said, "Well, there's a nice little grass strip that I visit on occasion.  It's next to a peach orchard in York, South Carolina, but you're asking about the airlines, right?"  He nodded, and said, "The peach orchard sounds nice, but yes, with the airline."  I said,  "I don't have a favorite, per se, but there are a few that I would just as soon avoid.  Newark, New Jersey comes to mind.  Smaller airports are certainly less of a hassle, but they all have unique challenges. I don't think about airports as much as I do the cities they serve.  So with that in mind, I guess Washington, D. C. is probably my favorite.  There is just so much to see and do after you arrive."

The Smithsonian:  It's not all on the Mall.

Back in June I had an opportunity to visit the Smithsonian National Postal Museum while on a layover in downtown D. C.  Slightly off the beaten path, the museum is located northeast of the National Mall, across the street from Union Station on the Metro's Red Line.

            
The purpose of my visit was twofold:  To view the Holy Grail of Stamps, the 1918, 24-cent Inverted Jenny; and to see three airplanes that are on display in the museum's atrium---a Postal Service de Havilland DH-4, a Wiseman-Cooke Pusher, and a Stinson Reliant fitted with a take-up boom and hook that was used for airmail pick-up and delivery in the mountains of Pennsylvania and West Virginia in the 1940's.

Whoops!

In 1918 the Postal Service introduced a 24-cent stamp to commemorate the first regularly scheduled airmail service in the United States.  The stamp---a two color affair, with a blue Curtiss Jenny biplane surrounded by a red border---went on sale two days before airmail service between New York, Philadelphia, and Washington D. C. began on May 15, 1918. Due to a printing error, some of the stamps were printed with the center image upside down---thus, the Inverted Jenny.  One sheet of 100 inverted stamps slipped past inspectors---to be purchased by a Washington D. C. stamp collector, William T. Robey. That twenty-four dollar purchase would yield Robey fifteen thousand dollars from a collector in Philadelphia.  That was a lot of cash in 1918!   Just in case you were wondering; my handy-dandy Annual Inflation Calculator---a must have device for airline pilots that bemoan the way their paychecks have not kept pace with inflation---tells me $15,000 in 1918 is approximately $258,968.97 in 2016. 

de Havilland DH-4

When the Curtiss Jenny proved to be too frail to handle the daily grind of scheduled airmail service the Post Office procured 100 de Havilland DH-4's from the army.  The equipment upgrade was only partially successful as the DH-4 had a nasty habit of killing it's pilot---usually on landing.  Placement of the cockpit was such that with a sudden stop the pilot could easily find himself crushed between the engine and the fuel tank.  The Postal Service solved this problem by relocating the cockpit to the gunner's position behind the fuel tank.  Other modifications included replacing fuselage fabric with plywood, and beefing up the landing gear.  These modified DH-4B's had a normal range of about 400 statute miles, sometimes less, depending on winds aloft and the health of it's 400 hp Liberty engine. 

Sonoma County Boy Does Good!

1910 Wiseman-Cooke Pusher

In 1909, Fred Wiseman, a racing car driver from Santa Rosa, California assembled a team of air minded individuals in San Francisco to design, and build, flying machines based on technical information acquired from the Curtiss, Farman, and Wright aircraft companies.  Test flights began in the spring of 1910.  The prototype Wiseman has the distinction of being the first airplane built in California to actually fly.  That summer a second airplane was constructed.  With this new and improved design Wiseman took second place, novice class, at an air meet in San Francisco in January 1911.

The following month Wiseman secured his place in aviation history by conducting the first airmail flight officially sanctioned by a U. S. Post Office.  The twenty mile flight from Petaluma, California to Wiseman's hometown of Santa Rosa was accomplished in just two days, thanks to a magneto problem that developed four and a half miles north of Petaluma.  By the time repairs were made it was too windy to continue.  The following morning Wiseman was airborne shortly after 9am.  Twelve minutes later---and one mile south of Santa Rosa---Serial Number Two's 60 hp Hall-Scott V-8 engine seized after a loose support wire became tangled in the propeller.  One mile short was close enough, apparently.  Wiseman was given a hero's welcome.

In addition to fifty copies of the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, "delivered" along the way, Wiseman carried three letters, one of which was written by Petaluma Postmaster, J. E. Olmsted:

Kenilworth Park
Petaluma, Cal.

February 17, 1911

H. L. Tripp
Postmaster
Santa Rosa, Cal.

Dear Sir and Friend:

Petaluma sends, via air route, congratulations and felicitations upon the successful mastery of the air by a Sonoma county boy in an airplane conceived by Sonoma county brains and erected by Sonoma county workmen.

Speed the day when the United States mail between our sister cities, of which this letter is the pioneer, may all leave by the air route with speed and safety.

J. E. Olmsted
Postmaster

In early 1912 Wiseman sold his record setting machine to another bay area pilot, Weldon B. Cooke, thus the Wiseman-Cooke designation.

Stinson Reliant:  Stories From Back In The Day. 

My fascination with airplanes stems from listening to my father tell stories about aviation and flying in the 1940's.  How his sixteen year old neighbor built a Pietenpol Sky Scout in his basement, and then had to knock a hole in the wall to get it out.  How his brother forgot about the carb heat knob in the 65 hp Taylorcraft he was flying, and had to set down in a cornfield. (When Uncle John told the story there was no mention of carburetor ice.)  How as a little boy, he would sit on the front steps of his grandparents farmhouse near Scottdale, Pennsylvania and watch the airmail planes from All American Airways make pick-ups on-the-fly from the hilltop across the way---a story brought to life when I saw the Stinson Reliant equiped with a take-up boom and hook hanging in the atrium.

The airmail pick-up service was developed to serve communities in remote areas, like Scottdale, that lacked adequate landing facilities.  The concept was fairly simple.  The ground crew would attach a rubber mail container to a rope suspended between poles that were fifteen feet tall.  As the airplane approached the pick-up zone a crewman assisting the pilot would drop the "incoming" mail container through a hole in the floor, and at the same time, extend the boom and hook to snag the rope suspended between the poles.  After the exchange was made, the crewman would wench in the "outgoing" mail pouch and retract the boom while the pilot set his course for the next pick-up along the route. A simple operation---but one that required a fair amount of skill to execute!

The airmail pick-up service survived for ten years, 1939 to 1949.  All American Airways became Allegheny Airlines, which became USAir, which then became USAirways, and is now American Airlines.  Executing that plan has been anything but simple.

The old Cottom farm near Scottdale, PA.

Who Needs A Gold Watch. . .

. . . when you can have your name engraved on the hood of a lav service truck!

Another Sign Off For EAA Chapter 961

John Roberts

Brethren!

Jellystone Air Park neighbor, John Roberts, reports that Skyote NX88NX is officially an airplane!  Representatives from the Columbia, South Carolina office of the Administracion de Aviacion Federal pronounced it airworthy Friday, March 11, 2016.  Rumor has it the inspection was a non-event---which is understandable because John's craftsmanship is exquisite.  Congratulations John!  We look forward to seeing your black and yellow biplane in the skies above Jellystone Air Park.  

Liza Jane & Skyote  #88.

Smiles all around!  John Roberts & Gary Barbeau.

The Skyote has great lines!

To see more of John's handiwork click here.

Water Cannons In The Mist

Water Cannons in the Mist could be the title of a jazz fusion album---or a protest song from the 1970's. . .  It's not (I checked with Google.)  It is, however, the title I have chosen for this image, swiped from a United Airlines flight operations video, of my good friend, Jerry York, pulling in to gate E20 at George Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston, Texas at 7:05 am on December 22, 2015.  This was Jerry's last flight as an airline pilot; he turned 65 in January.  The water cannon salute caps a thirty year career that began in 1984 flying Beech 99's at Sunbird Airlines.  Yes, that is a Boeing 777 emerging from the mist; United Airlines Flight 252 from Honolulu, Hawaii.  Not a bad way to end a career!

Jerry is the first of the old crowd (from the FBO) to go the distance.  We met in 1983 when I was a new hire flight instructor/charter pilot at Thurston Aviation in Charlotte, North Carolina.  Jerry was the ramp service manager.  He was also a private pilot, working on his ratings, hoping to eventually land a flying job.  At our first meeting, he said:  "Man, I am glad to see you!  We needed another flight instructor around here."  Jerry was a quick study.  I signed him off to take his Commercial Pilot check ride before the year was out.  In less than twelve months he was flying for Sunbird Airlines.  Two years later he was a new hire Boeing 727 Second Officer at Continental Airlines.  United Airlines merged with Continental Airlines in 2010. It's nice when a plan works out!



Future airline pilot, Jerry York, Charlotte, NC, 1983.

Sunbird Airlines Beech 99.

"Wide Body York," Tel Aviv, 2010.  Photo by Larry Brown

Passenger copy of Jerry's Salute Letter. 

The Last Waltz

That other career. .

There is a scene in a movie, I believe it was The Blue Max, where a soldier is standing in a trench, knee deep in mud.  Overhead, a couple of airplanes are dogfighting.  Thinking there has to be a better way to fight a war---maybe no less dangerous, but certainly less miserable---the soldier asks to be transferred to the air corps. . .

Over the years I have made a conscious effort to ask the people I fly with what got them started in aviation.  For many, myself included, flying was just something they always dreamed of doing.  For a lot of folks, flying was the family business---mom and dad were pilots, their brother or sister went to the Air Force Academy, that kind of stuff.   A couple of guys actually had experiences similar to the guy in The Blue Max!  Two were professional musicians.  One was a 737-800 captain that played guitar on tour with the Rolling Stones in the late 1960's (he said it was interesting.)  The other was Jerry York.  Here's how Jerry describes the tale:

"I soloed in 1971 at Rowan County airport in Salisbury, North Carolina.  My instructor was Bob Pruitt.  I still have my shirt tail! 

I went to UNC Wilmington for two and a half years and then moved to Florida to play music with a friend of mine.  (He became a pilot too---Piedmont, then USAir.)  I met Peggy there and we were married in January 1975.  I got a call from a music group from LA to play on the road for a few months.  After that I went back to Florida and worked on the line at a FBO.

In early 1976 we moved to North Carolina.  Shortly after the move I got another call from LA---to play bass for a sister duo act.  After that group disbanded I got a call from Seals & Crofts management to play bass for their opening act.  I did two tours in 1977.

I walked away from the music business because it was hard on the family being gone for weeks at a time.

After music we moved back to North Carolina and I went to work at Cannon Mills and attended Belmont Textile school for a degree in textile manufacturing---being in a small North Carolina town, the cotton mill was where the money was.  I got disillusioned with the mill work and got a job working on the line at Thurston Aviation in 1981.  I got all of my ratings there with you and John Ingram as my instructors.

In 1984, with 400 hours total time, Don Norton asked me to come to Sunbird.  I started out on the Beech 99 which I really loved flying.  Then we got the Shorts 330---and I finally got 1500 hours and upgraded. 

In 1987 I got hired at Continental.  It was crazy for sure!"

In the airline business timing is everything.  I went to work for Eastern Airlines in November 1985.  During the next twelve years I worked for seven different airlines---and survived one strike, two furloughs, and two bankruptcies.  If I had the chance to do it over again I probably wouldn't change a thing.  Jerry followed me to the majors in 1987---and kept a steady paycheck for 28 years.  I know he wouldn't change a thing!  Congratulations Jerry!  Enjoy your retirement---feel free to use Water Cannons In The Mist as the title of your next album.

On bass (left) with Deardorff & Joseph, 1977.

Tour Limo, 1977

Still jamming!

"China Clipper calling Manila. . ."