SHOT AT AND MISSED!

Posted on 06/28/2014by Bill Camp

MY JOB FOR THE DAY

Go to Frederick, Oklahoma…Gather info. and make a  bid on a big a stone job Make the sale….get the contract signed by the contractor!….Drive back home 

I’m thinking – - –  why not fly?  More fun than driving.

The Cessna Aerobat is sitting at the airport just waiting for me.

Piece of cake!

Excited, I hurried out to the airport, checked out the airplane and did my pre-flight inspection.  I Taxied out to the end of the runway.  Turning into the wind I ran the engine up to full power and checked all the instruments. 

All set I advanced the throttle and gave it a little right rudder taking off into a brisk wind out of the southwest.   As I cleared the buildings at the end of the runway and out over the interstate highway I suddenly realized I had left the sectional maps of my route in my car.  Sectional maps show ground elevations, airports and tall towers sticking up into the high enough that they can be a flight hazard.  They also show radio control facilities with all the radio frequencies.  “AND”  they also show restricted areas where it is illegal to fly below certain altitudes, good information you may desperately need to know.  I hated to turn back…I did not want to turn back – I decided not to turn back.  I’ve made this trip before, I know the way, I can just follow the highways, I’ll be allright without the maps.

The Turner Turnpike below me pointed straight toward my destination for the first 50 miles or so.  It also pointed me straight into the wind.  The brisk wind that I encountered at take off had grown stronger and stronger as the day warmed up. I could see the cars on the turnpike below me and I was still passing them but very slowly.  The wind must be nearly half of my airspeed, I reasoned.  The cruise speed of the Cessna 150 was only 90 miles per hour.  That means It’s going to take me twice as long to get there.  Oh, well, I’ll have enough fuel to make it.

Just about that time a second thought penetrated my brain. There is a restricted flight Zone around Fort Sill, and I  don’t know just how far that no fly zone reaches out around the army base.  But, I reasoned, since the army base is on the West side of the interstate highway the low altitude no flight zone is probably all on the West side too.  OK, sez I, I’ll just stay on the East side of the highway and I’ll be alright.

About ten minutes later I began to see the strangest site.  The land under me seemed to be divided up into one acre plots and exactly in the center of each of those plots sat an old car body.  As I watched a puff of smoke and dust flew up from one of those car bodies. Then another and another puff of smoke and dust.  Just then I heard the  sound of those explosions going off.  OH, OH !!  I’m over the artillery target range and they are shooting those big cannons right at me!! They have to in order to hit those old cars. The shells must be passing right through the air space I’m flying in.  I’ll bet the officers in charge of those guns have their field glasses trained on me and they are probably reading the tail numbers on this airplane right now and I am going to loose my flying license.  Worse yet, I thought, one of those shells could hit this airplane.  There I was, flying in a restricted air zone, flying against this wind, probably not going more that thirty five or forty miles an hour with artillery shells flying all around me.  Should I turn around and go back or should I stay on course and fly out of the restricted airspace that way. Since they are looking at me right now, I reasoned, they will stop shooting till I’m out of the way…  Hoping they wouldn’t hit me – Hoping they hadn’t seen me – I stayed on course and flew straight ahead.  It seemed like an hour, but I got away without getting my tail shot off.  

NOW I WANT TO ASK YOU A QUESTION.  I KNOW I WAS STUPID BUT DID I DO THE RIGHT THING BY STAYING ON COURSE?? OR SHOULD I HAVE TURNED AROUND AND GOT OUT OF THERE AS FAST AS I COULD?  PLEASE RESPOND & LET ME KNOW.  Please comment.

By the way, I never did get that phone call – they never did come and take me away – I must assume either that they did not see me or that they blamed it on the stupidity of the pilot.  Maybe they just avoided the paperwork by ignoring my intrusion into their air space.

See you,

Barnstormer

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment | Edit

TRUE STORIES OF LIVING HEROS

What a story the above painting has to tell.    Late evening, long shadows on the ground,  smoke stain from air battles fought. Flaps and wheels down and one more safe return to the home airfield just ahead.  These fliers usually took off before daylight with only a cold breakfast. They risked their lives daily in air battles we can only imagine.  They flew over oceans to get to the enemy...Then flew over the enemy guns to get to their targets...Once over the target they could not deviate to avoid either enemy fighters or flak...On the way home they flew with near empty fuel tanks in airplanes shot full of holes by enemy guns...The oceans they had to cross were so cold that those who bailed out had only a few minutes before freezing to death.  But they did it day after day until the enemy was defeated.

What a debt we owe!

I have a friend, now living in a rest home, who flew 50 missions over Germany before coming home.  He has agreed to share some of the stories of his experiences in coming issues of this blog.  No fiction here - all are first hand experiences.

MY DAD WAS A REAL MAN

"Fire", My older sister screamed as she jerked back the covers and got us out of bed.  "The house is on fire.  We've got to get out" 
     I was 11 years old when our house burned down.  The year was 1939.  My Dad and baby brother died in that fire.  Glen, nine months old at the time, died the next day not from burns but from smoke inhalation.  Dad died 3 days later, his body  burned black.

     I woke up to a house full of smoke.  Our bedroom was on the second floor of this old wooden farmhouse. I and my three brothers slept in this room.  Dad, Mom and the baby slept across the hall in the other upstairs room.  My three sisters slept in the downstairs bedroom.  
     The sound of the fire rushing up the stairway was frightening.  The smell was acrid and I could already feel the heat from the fire downstairs.  We all rushed out the door onto the porch roof to temporary safety.  The girls and my mother shinnied down the porch posts and took the twins, now three or four years old, as I handed them down from the roof.  My brother Leonard and  I jumped off the roof edge to the yard below.  I remember how bad my feet hurt when I hit the ground. 
     All  of us were out but Dad and the baby.  We could see through the front window into the burning house.  My dad was crawling around on the floor, apparently blinded by the flames.  I could see him feeling his way around searching for the baby who was sitting in a high chair.  He was just a few feet from Dad's fingertips.  But daddy  turned the other way and we lost sight of him in the flames.
My older sister found a brick and broke the window glass intending to go in and get the baby. Mother grabbed her and held her back for fear the roof would cave in.  My little sister then jumped through the window and rescued baby Glen from the fire.  LaVerda's hair was burned so bad they had to cut it all off and let it grow in again.  She had other burns too but she was a hero that day and for a long time after.  I still think of her as a hero, she was afraid of nothing and thought only of the baby's life.  We all called to Daddy that the baby was safe and he must have heard us.
     While Mother and the girls cared for the baby  I ran around the house to the back door just as Daddy came crawling out of the fire.  What was left of his clothes were still on fire and his body was burned black and cracked like an alligator's skin.  I was about to find out what kind of a man my Dad really was. He never cried out or groaned.  He just took control of the situation like he felt no pain.

After asking if we got the baby out of the house he told me; "Billy, go get a blanket and put out the fire on my clothes."  I said; "I can't, daddy, the house is on fire"  He said;"there is a blanket in the truck, go get it and put out these flames."  I did.

Then he said; "Billy, Get me a drink of water."  I said; "I can't, daddy, the house is on fire".  He said; "Find a tin can, get some water from the horse tank and bring it to me."  I did.

He said; "Get in the truck and go get help."  I said; "I can't, daddy, there's no water in the radiator."  (We always drained the radiator in cold weather to keep it from freezing)  
He said; "We did not drain it last night, get in the truck and go get help."

My sister jumped in the truck with me, we did just as he said and found help.  That is the last time I ever got to talk to my dad.  He died before I got a chance to see him again but I will never forget that last conversation with my dad.  He taught me a lesson in those last 10 minutes that I will never forget.  "I can do it if I have to".   "I will never again say  "I can't".

Sometimes I wonder if he was preparing me for the job I had ahead of me.  I was my father's oldest boy left at home.  It became my job to take care of Mother and my younger sister and brothers.  Mom and I did it along with help with my older siblings not living at home.   I hope Daddy can see us from heaven and I hope he is pleased with the way I handled the job he gave me to do.

                            I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO BE A MAN LIKE MY DAD. 

MISTAKES CAN KILL YOU

It was a mistake...I had allowed my wife to talk me into this...I told myself.  Here I sat on the end of the runway about to take off knowing I had the airplane overloaded...too heavy for safe flight.

I had agreed to take the young people in my Sunday School class flying this Saturday afternoon.  Most of the class was not very excited about it.  Only two showed up but we had a good flight and they seemed to enjoy it very much.  When we landed we found that one more class member had come for a plane ride.  An exceptionally heavy teen age boy, probably tipping the scale at over two hundred pounds.  Now all three wanted to ride and I reluctantly agreed to take them up.  This was a big mistake and could have gotten all of us killed.  I almost always flew alone and never had to worry about weight and balance problems.  The Mooney I was flying this afternoon is rated for four souls on board (that's OK if two of them are children, less than full fuel tanks and no baggage)  
I taxied to the take-off end of the runway thinking all the time that I should not try this.  That airport had a very short runway and has since been closed for that very reason.  I just wasn't made for multi-engine or heavy aircraft and there was no room to add to it's length.  Nevertheless there I sat and I had committed myself.  Sometimes it's worth the embarrassment to back away from a commitment rather than risk an accident.  This was one of those times.
I set the brakes and ran up the engine.  Everything looked good to go.  I wound the engine up to top speed with the brakes set.  Releasing the brakes we started down the runway accelerating at a good speed.  It normally takes about one third of the runway to reach take off speed.  At my normal take off point I pulled back of the control column.  The plane did not take off but the stall warning sounded.  I lowered the nose and let it accelerate to the midpoint of the runway and tried to lift off again.  Again the stall warning sounded.  Now I was traveling down the runway nearing seventy five miles an hour and the end of the runway was coming at me at alarming speed.  I could not have stopped without running off the end of the runway, through the fence, into the ditch and out onto the road.  I had to do something...and do it fast.  I reached down and pulled the flaps on full.  The airplane jumped into the air and I crossed the road clearing the wires and the buildings on the South side of the road.   (I learned later that this is the best short field take off procedure for this airplane)  I raised the wheels and let the airplane accelerate until I was sure it would fly without the flaps.  I then slowly retracted the flaps, one notch at a time as I gained speed.  It was then that the guilt and anger at myself set in.
We flew around long enough for me to get my nerves settled down and back to normal,  made a steep approach with full flaps and landed safely.
Mistakes can kill you...as well as those who trust in you.  None of the excuses you can come up with nor all of them put together can remove your guilt.  This was a great lesson for me and I never again flew without giving proper  thought to weight and balance.  
I wish I could say that I applied this lessen to the rest of my life but I can't.   I can say, however, that the same lesson applied in different ways to different problems has made me much more cautious in my approach to each situation I face.  I guess that's why I am still alive.

STUPID DECISION

There I was - crossing a 10 ton bridge with a 40 ton truck.  How did I get myself into this...

Driving an 18 wheel over-the-road truck is an interesting experience.  By the very nature of the work you run into a wide variety of situations you have never experienced before.  

My dispatcher said "This load is over the legal weight limit but we want you to take it anyway.  The customer needs the product.  Try to dodge the Dept. of Transportation weight scales if you can.  We'll pay the fines if you get caught and make sure it does not go on your driving record."

I made it all the way across Oklahoma and Kansas with no problem.  Now here I was in Missouri and approaching the toughest weigh station of them all.  Three times before I had troubles with this particular weigh station.  Once they made me redistribute the load by hand just because the weight on the rear axle was over the limit by less than 200 pounds.  Once they held me up three hours.  Once they made me pay a big fine.   What would they do now that I was over the limit by 8,000 pounds. 
I had stopped at a rest area and studied my  road map before coming into this state.  I found what I was looking for.  The map showed it to be a paved road going North to another highway that would miss the weigh station.  Great.  I took this road.  It was wide and well paved for the first 20 miles or so.  Then it started to get narrower by the mile.  After another five miles the road became so narrow that I could not find a place to turn around and go back.  I kept on driving and looking but found no place big enough for me to turn around and go back.  Six miles further down the road I came to a narrow wooden bridge with no railings.  The bridge led across a creek and swampy area and was about a city block long.  By now it was around 3.00 in the morning.  I had two choices.  I could try to back the tractor-trailer in the dark six miles back to where I could turn around or I could cross that bridge.  I pulled up closer to the bridge.  There was no other traffic at that hour.
I looked at the bridge pilings and cross timbers, all wood.  I looked at the planking, twelve inch wood planks running crosswise to the bridge and another layer running lengthwise of the bridge.  This top layer was in two rows for the wheels to run on.  Should I go ahead or go back??   I edged up closer to the bridge.  My headlights showed no sway or dip in the bridge but no railings of any kind.  I had a previous experience with a similar bridge but with an empty truck and a much shorter bridge in the daylight.  I could hear the frogs in the creek singing their croaking song.

I thought about it again for a while and then, seemingly without making a decision, I drove out on to the bridge slowly.  Slow and steady I thought.  That's my only chance.  I crossed that bridge uneventfully but have had nightmares about it ever since.

Think about it.
1. I did not know whether or not there were still similar bridges up ahead.
2. I could have backed up the six miles, even if it took all night.
3. The company had agreed to pay all costs of getting caught overweight.
4. What would it have been like if only one wheel broke through and stranded me on the bridge?
5. If I had damaged the bridge I would be charged with the cost of repair and loss of use.
6. What if I drowned.  etc. etc. 

Crossing that bridge was not a good decision!!!!!   How many similar decisions have I made??
What is wrong with me that I could make such a stupid decision??

Have you made decisions that got you into problems?   There is no gift more valuable than the ability to make good decisions!

AEROBATICS

 
 I was up practicing aerobatics on this beautiful summer afternoon when it happened.  My engine died and the propeller stopped.... Everything got quiet...... deathly quiet......  Even the wind noise became silent .....That had never happened to me before......There I was.....where just a moment ago everything was peaceful and under control I was now in a life threatening situation.  The nose of the little Cessna I was flying was pointed straight up at the sky. I was about to start falling... tail first... toward the trees and rocks five thousand feet below me.
The problem was that I was caught in the middle of an aerobatic maneuver called the Hammerhead Stall. If you fall tail first the reverse flow of wind over the rudder, elevator and ailerons could tear those control surfaces right off the hinges.  I would loose all control of the airplane. I had to do something....fast... before the unthinkable happened.
     I have loved airplanes since I was a child. I have loved the sense of freedom you get when flying.  Even before I was grammar school age my sister had had to pull me from in front of a landing airplane.  A barnstormer had landed in the field across the road from our house.  We climbed the fence to watch.  When the pilot came in to land they say I was so excited I ran right out in front of the still rolling airplane  I like to loop and roll and dance in the sky. It always put a grin on my face that would last a week .  Even the worst problems I encountered could not wipe that grin off my face.
     Now all airplanes are designed with certain limitations, design limits. This was a light airplane designed for mild aerobatics; loops, barrel rolls, lazy eights, etc. No inverted flight, no high G maneuvers and certainly no hammerhead stalls with the possibility of an inadvertent  tail slide.
     The trick with a Hammerhead Stall is to dive to get up to entry speed then pull up into a vertical climb.  Watch your wing tips to keep them vertical to the horizon.  As the speed falls off you wait until the air speed indicator drops below forty miles an hour, then just at the right moment, get on the right or left rudder hard!!!
If  you do it right the airplane will rotate around it's longitudinal axis in the still air at the top of the climb and head nose down following the same path you used in the climb.....I had waited just a second or so too long. When I hit the rudder nothing happened - it just hung there before starting to slide backward toward the earth....I pulled the control column all the way back to the stops causing the nose to fall back and drop over the top into a vertical dive.  Luckily I still had enough forward speed for that.  Not pretty but it got me out of that problem.   I let the speed build up enough to spin the prop and the engine started again. Needless to say, I flew back to the airport and landed safely.  I lived to fly another day but it was close.
     Some people are fatally attracted to risk in some form or another.  Once in a while they have to have that shot of adrenaline just to feel good about themselves. Some of us have have good enough judgement to avoid such risks. Some people are simply too stupid and take unnecessary risks when there is no chance of succeeding.    Most of us, I suppose, have some combination of the above and  have learned to control our urges most of the time.  It's those gaps in good judgement that get us into trouble.  There is an old saying that's been around airports since the Wright brothers.  "There are old pilots and there are bold pilots but there are no old bold pilots."
Work out a good plan - Stick to that plan - Resist sudden urges.