September 23, 1998
Another of my late father's flying stories:
Sometime early in the War, the Army realized that they would need a very large number of pilots, and would need to greatly increase their training programs. Dad and another instructor were assigned the task of searching for additional airfields to use for flying instruction. There were many small airfields in those days that were not on charts, so their CO decided to begin an aerial survey of Southern California for sites that would be suitable. They were assigned a B-25 and begin a systematic search of the counties surrounding the Mojave area.
One day they were surprised to see what appeared to be a brand new airfield that did not appear on any of their charts, near a small town. There seemed to be a large crowd of people gathered on the apron, so they decided to land and find out more about the field. As they taxied up to the assembled crowd, they realized that a band was playing and people appeared to be celebrating something. After shutting down, they climbed out and were greeted to loud cheers and the brass band blaring. The crowd seemed a bit confused about the fact that this was an Army plane, piloted by Army pilots, but welcomed Dad and his copilot excitedly. A spokesman, who turned out to be the mayor of the town, asked them if they were from the CAA, then the predecessor of the FAA. "No," Dad replied and described why they had landed. The mayor explained that they were there to celebrate the arrival of the first airplane at the town's brand new airport, which was supposed to be piloted by the CAA official who was going to open the airport officially.
A few minutes later a small Taylorcraft landed, taxied up to the apron, and parked somewhere behind the B-25. Because of the crowd, Dad couldn't see exactly where. This turned out to be the CAA official, and the celebrations began in earnest. Since theirs had actually been the first aircraft to land at the new field, Dad and his copilot were given pride of place at the party. A newspaper reporter took pictures of Dad, his copilot, and of the B-25. The CAA official opened the airport, and they all enjoyed an hour of so of good food and ceremony. They and the CAA official then said their farewells and climbed into their respective planes. Dad started up the B-25, taxied away and left. He never did see the Taylorcraft.
A few days later someone sent them the newspaper from the town. On the front page were pictures of them and the B-25, the celebrations, and the wreckage of the CAA official's Taylorcraft, on its back. The newspaper described how the Army, while taxiing away, had blown the smaller aircraft over, fortunately without injury to the pilot. It was quite a day: the first airplane lands (a big Army bomber!) at the new airport, the new airport is officially opened, and they have their first accident - all in the space of a couple of hours. Dad always expected the FAA eventually to punish him for that incident, but it never happened.
Bob
Copyright Ó 1998 Robert T. Chilcoat