FAA Bill Creates National Airmail Museum

By Scott Spangler on October 22nd, 2018 | 1 Comment »

100_photo1Title V of the FAA Reauthorization Act of 2018 is an accumulation of Congressional mandates that don’t qualify for its other titles, like Title IV—Air Service Improvements, and Title III—Safety. This item caught my eye. It’s short, so here’s a copy and paste of the whole thing.

(a) FINDINGS.—Congress finds that—
(1) in 1930, commercial airmail carriers began operations at Smith Field in Fort Wayne, Indiana;
(2) the United States lacks a national museum dedicated to airmail; and
(3) the airmail hangar at Smith Field in Fort Wayne, Indiana—
(A) will educate the public on the role of airmail in aviation history; and
(B) honor the role of the hangar in the history of the Nation’s airmail service.
(1) IN GENERAL.—The airmail museum located at the Smith Field in Fort Wayne, Indiana, is designated as the ‘‘National Airmail Museum’’.
(2) EFFECT OF DESIGNATION.—The national museum designated by this section is not a unit of the National Park System and the designation of the National Airmail Museum shall not require or permit Federal funds to be expended for any purpose related to that national memorial.

Image result for national airmail museum

Asking Google about it let me to the National Airmail Museum’s website. Now fundraising, the museum will not only educate visitors about the airmail era, it will describe Fort Wayne’s role in the system’s development. Housed in Hangar 2 at Smith Field Airport, the museum will feature interactive and hands-on exhibits that will give visitors a deeper understanding and appreciation of the trials and tribulations of the pilots and those who supported them. It will also be home to EAA Chapter 2, a gift shop, and a uniquely themed dining experience.

Hangar 2 is itself a bit of history. To quote the website: Built in the 1920s, “Hangar 2 features three large Truscon Steel Company Doors, a highlight unique to Smith Field in the U.S. at the time they were built. The Carousel Hangar, although outside the period of significance defined for Smith Field, is the only example of Clark W. Smith’s patented design ever built. The hangar is characterized by an innovative rotating carousel door. Smith Field’s tie-down area recalls the era before World War II when hangars were used for maintenance rather than storage, and the aircraft had to be tied down to spiral-shaped stakes in the ground.”

Historic postcard of Smith Field, c. 1940Unlike most airports in operation today, Smith Field was not built for or during World War II. It grew then, but Fort Wayne inspected the site in 1919, pilots started learning to fly there in 1923, and it was established at the Baer Municipal Airport in 1925, named for Paul Baer, America’s first ace in World War I. During World War II, when the Army Air Forces appropriated Baer’s name for its airfield south of town, Fort Wayne renamed the airport for its airmail pioneer, Art Smith.

Art Smith (pilot) 1915.jpgBorn on February 27, 1890 in Fort Wayne, he died on February 12, 1926, the second overnight mail service pilot to die on duty. His parents mortgaged their home in 1910 so Art could build his first plane. Teaching himself to fly, he crashed on its first flight. Learning by trial and error, he became a stunt pilot, taking over at the official Panama-Pacific International Exhibition’s stunt flyer when Lincoln Beachey did not survive a crash in San Francisco Bay. During World War I he was an Army test pilot and instructor, stationed at Virginia’s Langley Field McCook Field in Dayton, Ohio. He joined the Post Office after the war and flew overnight mail between New York City and Chicago, and died on his route near Montpelier, Ohio.

Aviation as we know it today would not exist without the people who created the airmail system and made it work. That they deserve national recognition should be beyond question. Equally important, aviators today should support the National Airmail Museum because in recognizing the dedication and sacrifices of pioneers like Art Smith, we can inspire these traits among those who are building aviation’s future. Scott Spangler, Editor.

Lake Michigan Training Saves Combat Vets

By Scott Spangler on October 8th, 2018 | 2 Comments »

USN-85If there is a long forgotten annex that has preserved World War II combat veterans for eventual display at the National Museum of Naval Aviation, it is Lake Michigan. Without the inevitable accidents that occur when new naval aviators are learning to land on an aircraft carrier, we would not now be able to look upon the world’s sole surviving SB2U Vindicator torpedo bomber. We could not caress the dive brakes of an SBD-2 Dauntless dive bomber that witnessed the attach on Pearl Harbor, and fought in the battle of Midway. Nor could we gaze at an F4F-3 Wildcat that started its service in September 1941 with Fighting Squadron 5 aboard the USS Yorktown.

USN-145They all ended their active service with the Carrier Qualification Training Unit (CQTU) at NAS Glenview, north of Chicago, Illinois. Looking at them today, imbued with the national worship of veterans, some might be critical of the decisions that led to these veterans of the greatest generation spending four of five decades in the depths of Lake Michigan. But the decision-makers of the time were not so constrained. They had a war to fight and win, and that pragmatism overruled all other considerations. And those who appreciate history should thank them for it.

Facing the carrier qualification for thousands of naval aviators and the vulnerability of the ships providing such training in the Pacific, Atlantic, or Gulf of Mexico, training in Lake Michigan seemed the most logical solution. So the Navy put flat tops on two lake steamers and called the result the training carriers Wolverine (IX-64) and Sable (IC-81). Focused on the goal at hand, the Navy certainly expected and planned for training accidents. Probably no one looked to the future and appreciated that, unlike salt water, fresh water does not eat airplanes. It preserves them.

USN-103How well is clear on the unrestored patch of painted aluminum on the vertical fin of SBD Dauntless, BuNo 2106. Assigned to the aircraft pool at Ford Island, it survived the attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Then it flew with Bombing Squadron 2 (VB-2) from the USS Lexington (CV-2), taking part in raids on Lae and Salamaua, New Guinea. Then it transferred to the US Marine Corps Scout Bombing Squadron 241 (VMSB-241).

USN-102On June 4, 1942, pilot 1st Lt. Daniel Iverson Jr. and radioman-gunner PFC Wallace J. Reid, took off with the other members of VMSB-241 to attack the Japanese carrier Hiryu. BuNo 2106 was one of the few survivors. It returned to Midway with roughly 250 bullet holes in it, a wounded crew, and one working main landing gear. Iverson received the Navy Cross, Reid received the Distinguished Flying Cross, and 2106 got a total overhaul before being assigned to the carrier qualification training unit, freeing up newer aircraft for frontline combat duty.

During a routine carrier qualification flight, on June 11, 1943, a Marine, 2nd Lt. Donald A Douglas Jr., stalled and spun into Lake Michigan, and sank in 170 feet of fresh water. Salvage crews discovered its resting spot in October 1993 and recovered in January 1994 by A&T Recovery for the museum, which restored it. To give visitors an idea of what they started with, the Sunken Treasures exhibit displays an SBD-4 and an F4F-3 Wildcat in pretty much the conditions in which they were found.

USN-54The SB2U Vindicator, a two-crew scout bomber, replaced biplanes in the late 1930s and set the stage for its replacement, Douglas’s SBD Dauntless. First flown in 1936, the Navy didn’t order very many, just 58 in 1938 and another 58 in 1940. With a trussed fuselage and largely covered with fabric (construction clearly seen thanks to the open fuselage panels), the airplane was obsolete before the war started, but the Marines fought with them at the Battle of Midway and suffered heavy losses.

The museum calls these aircraft Sunken Treasures, as indeed they are. What’s equally compelling are the number of aircraft still in storage at the bottom of Lake Michigan. – Scott Spangler, Editor

A Cockpit Crawl into Naval Aviation History

By Scott Spangler on September 24th, 2018 | 1 Comment »

USN-82Am I the only aviator who wants the pilot’s perspective when examining an interesting aircraft? Or am I suffering from unrequired Walter Mitty daydreams? Either way, with a cockpit crawl of more than a dozen aircraft, from the F11F Tiger to the F-14 Tomcat, the National Museum of Naval Aviation is a hangar of dreams in Pensacola, Florida.

Scattered throughout the museum are more than a dozen cockpit procedure trainers (CPTs), which are exactly like fleet aircraft with their wings and most of their fuselages amputated. Each of them taught naval aviators where to find the necessary system information, and what to look for before they made their initial flights in these (mostly) single-seat aircraft.

Climbing into the F-8 CPT during my first visit to the museum in 1972 is a lasting memory because I fit! But I was 5 inches shorter then, so looking to try it (and any others) on was a premeditated goal of this 21st century visit. Seeing the F11F Tiger (above) and the F-4 Phantom CPTs, both in their Blue Angel uniforms, gave me hope that was not disappointed. It has new paint, but I still fit. (Let the day dreams continue!)

USN-177While there isn’t any power or instrument life in the CPTs, and the canopies don’t close, but the sticks and rudder pedals (and rudder pedal adjustment cranks) still move from stop to stop. They range from the F11F and T-28, which entered service in the 1950s, to the F-14 Tomcat, which retired from active fleet service in 2006.

Making a cockpit crawl in chronological order is not only a first-hand look at the development of the technology they employ but also the advancement in what test pilots call the “pilot-aircraft interface.” The need for naval aviators to be contortionists clearly diminished over the years.

And then there are anthropometrics, the maximum and minimum measurements that play a large role in which pipeline—jets, helos, or multiengine—is open to a prospective naval aviator. It’s more than just standing and sitting height or buttocks to knee length. They measure every aspect of a prospective aviator’s functional reach, and your arms can be too long (as I found out when trying to reach the switches in the back corners of the Tiger’s cockpit) as well as too short.

USN-155The helo cockpits have the most room, with the HH-52 (essentially a single-engine SH-3 Sea King) having much more than the AH-1 Sea Cobra. Subjectively, among the jets, those made by Chance-Vought (the F-8 Crusader and A-7 Corsair II) and Grumman (the F11f and F-14), offered more leg room than those made by McDonnell (the F-4 Phantom) and Lockheed (the S-3 Viking).

The lines of children and adults waiting for the AV-8A Harrier and T-2 Buckeye were a bit longer, and with so much more to see, I didn’t make the time to try them on. Maybe next time. –Scott Spangler, Editor

Windowless Airplanes? Not for Me

By Robert Mark on September 16th, 2018 | 1 Comment »

By Micah Engber

Recently there has been much discussion about windowless passenger aircraft becoming the wave of the future. Based on the direction society is now moving I’m sure it’ll become a reality at some point. I also suspect that at some time we’ll see windows becoming either luxuries for the rich, or old technology left for the poor. Think about it, we already have windowless offices. Even in many offices that still have windows, those windows are left for the upper class highly paid top executives. The rest of us schlubs work in windowless cubicles and never see outside during a working day. Unless we’re let out for recess.

The kernel of this story was originally written in May of 2013 and many of you may have heard it before, but it has been made relevant again by the thought of windowless travel, and how, at least as I see it, most people won’t even notice. Here’s why.

I was ready to fly Jetblue Flight 607 but it was over an hour late departing Portland, Maine. I wasn’t worried though, I’d already changed my connecting flight in JFK. All was well and I’d just end up in Fort Lauderdale instead of West Palm Beach, really not that big of a deal.

The Embraer E190 was far from full with over 30 unfilled seats. In fact I changed my place from 16A, what was called an “Even More Legroom” seat, to 25A the last row of the aircraft that was completely empty. You see that allegedly premium seat was positioned between windows. How could they sell a premium seat for more money when there wasn’t even a window in that row? How little did I know?

We took off to the west on Runway 29 from PWM and started to bank south at about 1,000 feet. I had this whole row, both sides of it to myself, and there was no one around me. It was the back of the plane, the ghetto in passenger aircraft, but I guess I can be pretty ghetto if I have to, part of my heritage I suppose. My people were the original ghetto dwellers. Read the rest of this entry »

An Introductory Flight of Frustration

By Scott Spangler on September 10th, 2018 | 1 Comment »

ltf signFollowing Santa’s directions, for Christmas my oldest son’s wife got him an introductory flight lesson. I can’t remember any gift in the preceding years that left him so excited. An ICU nurse living in the metropolitan Kansas City, it took awhile for the weather to align with his work and family schedules (that happens when you have four kids). But he was patient, and his eager anticipation never dimmed, until he actually made the flight.

On his way home from the airport he called in a state of agitated consternation. To summarize our hour long conversation, the intro lesson was much less than he anticipated, and he pelted me with a series of questions whose common denominator was, “Was I expecting too much?” As he stepped through the lesson, if you could call it that, the answer to each question was no. What Santa brought you was not an introductory flight lesson but an hour of flight time for a safety pilot posing as a CFI.

My son described him as a “professor,” of what he didn’t know or say. He was “older than me, but not as old as you, Pops,” which put him somewhere between 31 and 64. And there was very little conversation before the flight. He didn’t ask why my son wanted to become a pilot and how he hoped to use this precious, hard-earned skill once he’d earned the certificate. Nor was there any preflight discussion of what they would do during the lesson. “He checked the oil and said, ‘Let’s go flying.’” said my son.

Read the rest of this entry »

Tactile History at Naval Aviation Museum

By Scott Spangler on August 22nd, 2018 | 2 Comments »

A lot has changed since I last visited the National Museum of Naval Aviation 46 years ago, when I was a student at the Naval Schools of Photography that once called the Naval Air Station Pensacola, Florida, home. The photo school, and the occupational rating itself, are no more. The Navy merged four jobs—photographer’s mate, illustrator draftsman, lithographer, and journalist—into a new Mass Communication Specialist designation in 2006, and the classic white structure that was its home became the air station’s headquarters. Likewise, time has replaced the museum’s World War II temporary buildings surrounded by the open-air bondage of a dozen or so aircraft (the more delicate examples were inside) with a magnificent structure that should be on the to-visit list of every aviation aficionado.

USN-61But the one important aspect of the museum, the one thing that makes it unique among all others with similar collections, has not changed. Aside from those flying suspended from the ceiling, all but a few of of the airplanes on display are within easy reach of the museum’s visitors. Stanchions stand by some airplanes, but no velvet ropes connect them. They stand disconnected to warn visitors that they are approaching something sharp and/or pointy, and to pay attention. (And learning that the F11F-1 Tiger’s wings folded down was one of the many surprises revealed during my visit.) The Navy clearly expects museum visitors to pay attention and respect the small yellow placards affixed to fuselages that say, “Please Keep Off.”

USN-33Walking through the timeline of naval aviation history is more like wandering through a clean, well-lighted hangar deck than following a prescribed museum maze. And the rewards are many. It is one thing to read that the wingspan of the Curtiss/Naval Aircraft Factory NC-4, which celebrates the centennial of its historic transatlantic flight next year, is 126 feet, and that the wingspan of the Boeing F4B-4, a frontline carrier-borne fighter during the early 1930s  and finished its service as a training airplane in 1941, is 30 feet.

USN-47But nothing puts this disparity in perspective more than seeing the fighter under the wing of the flying boat and comparing the wingtip float to the single-seater’s fuselage. For an even greater “holy crap” moment, walk behind the NC-4 and compare the span of its biplane horizontal tail feathers with the biplane span of the Curtiss JN-4 Jenny displayed beneath it. They are almost the same, and the NC-4’s tail looks to have a wider cord. And if you are tall enough, you can peek into the open cockpits. The early biplanes, like the F4B and this Grumman F3F-2, are the most accessible. That tube above the panel that protrudes through the windscreen is the gun sight.

USN-53Contemplating the early years of naval aviation, and looking into the aviators’ working spaces, these were surely robust men who were no bigger than the average 21st century middle schooler. Then look at the NC-4’s tail feathers and remember that pure muscle moved these surfaces by direct connections made by cables, pulleys, and pushrods. In today’s aviation era, where an aviator’s inputs are interpreted by a computer and carried out by some form of power steering, I wonder how today’s aeronauts would adapt. Some, perhaps many, would welcome it, because they would be directly involved in the flight. And when you had to hand-crank the retractable landing gear in the F3F and its single-winged offspring, the F4F Wildcat, the effort was so memorable that pilots didn’t forget to raise or lower the gear.

What made it memorable, said my father, who flew the Wildcat for his carrier qualifications on the USS Wolverine in Lake Michigan, was the crank’s location on the lower right side of the cockpit. It took some practice, he said, to fly with your left hand and make the necessary 28 turns with your right and not go phugoid during the effort. –Scott Spangler, Editor

ATC’s Bob Richards Heads West

By Robert Mark on August 20th, 2018 | 1 Comment »

Everyone at PWK tower thought Bob Richards was interesting, in a rather curious way, when he began his air traffic control career back in the early 1980s. Not weird, but more quirky, like a guy holding back some part of his personality, at least at first.

I was one of the controllers assigned to train this new guy and early on he impressed me with how quickly he caught on to the practical side of air traffic control. Bob knew when to simply let a tough day go at our busy airport and when to laugh. At the time, PWK (now called Chicago Executive Airport) was running about 160,000 takeoffs and landings a year, so it was not the kind of place where every trainee succeeded.

As I came to know Bob better, I remember razzing him about how his parents must have spent a fortune on his dental work since he had such a perfect smile. Some of the PWK started calling him “California Bob,” because of that big smile. He just seemed Hollywood-like to us. And of course once the folks you work with begin poking fun at you, you’ve pretty much made the grade.

Richards – officially Robert Paul Richards – died earlier this month at age 61 from heart related problems, leaving behind his wife Kim, five kids and eight grandchildren.

Bob’s personality is what people remember most about him. He was a tough guy not to like or laugh with. He always managed to remain cheery in a profession that back then, not many years after the 1981 PATCO strike, was still pretty gloomy. Most of the controllers left were tired from working 10-hour days, six-days a week.

After spending a few years in the old tower at KPWK, Bob went on to a distinguished career as an O’Hare tower controller in Chicago, from which he officially retired a few decades later. During his time at ORD, Bob gained his famous “Calvin,” nickname, one I originally thought had something to do with Bill Watterson’s old Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. Bob called me one day to tell me just how far off I was, explaining the ORD controllers had tagged him Calvin because he like to wear Calvin Klein jeans. Unofficially he told me, “I needed to get the flick,” one of those insider ATC memes. I wasn’t at all surprised to learn years later that one of his grandchildren was named Calvin.

But Bob Richards didn’t disappear after his retirement from ATC. Our paths often crossed since we were both regularly called upon by TV networks for opinions about ATC or aviation issues in general. He went on to pen a successful insider’s guide to air traffic control called “Secrets From the Tower,” that he never failed to remind me at AirVenture every year was still selling like hotcakes. My books of course, weren’t selling nearly as well as his. He told me an L.A. production house even bought the screen rights to the book, although the story never made it quite that far in the end.

I just couldn’t be jealous of Bob and his success of course. The guy was too darned nice. Even when I’d tell him he was being kind of a jerk, he’d flash that big California Bob smile at me during AirVenture and say, “c’mon Rob, let’s go have a beer.” That was Bob. I’d kind of lost touch with him over the past few years, but looked for him at the AirVenture’s Author’s Corner this year, completely unaware of the state of his health.

On a side note, I also remember Bob as one of the early advocates for more air traffic controllers. Sadly, the FAA’s staffing shortages, mostly of the agency’s own making, have these days again created pretty lousy morale at many large ATC facilities by working controllers six days a week.

So keep em separated up there buddy, You’ll be missed. I just realized I never did find out if California Bob ever had braces as a kid.

Rob Mark, publisher

USAF Museum: Thanks For Your Service

By Scott Spangler on August 6th, 2018 | 3 Comments »

Day 3-68Standing at the bent and battered nose of a Vietnam-era C-123 Provider at the National Museum of the US Air Force and wondering why there was a World War II P-47 Thunderbolt snuggled under its left wing, a middle-aged blonde walked up, looked at the airplane, and said, to no one in particular, something about “their achievements.” Then she turned to me, because I was the only one there, and asked, “Did you serve?” My affirmative reply was followed by today’s autonomic honorific, “Thanks for your service.” And then she was gone.

This brief interaction—it lasted less than a minute—shaped what remained of my day-long dedicated exploration of the museum. It should be clear that I really don’t like people thanking me for my service. It implies that I’m someone special. As those who know me will attest, I’m far from it. In early 1972 I joined the Navy because I had a low draft number and was racing the postal service. Before and after the draft, military service is a choice. I could have decided to resist or run north, but I decided to enlist because my future then pointed to no specific goal.

Really, applying for a job in the military doesn’t make anyone special. But circumstances related to the performance of that job, going above and beyond the call of duty, qualify, to a degree. All of those I’ve talked to who have made this effort agree that they are not special. They were just doing their best to accomplish the mission they signed up to do—and not die, or let anyone they are responsible for die, in the process. That was the goal, not the glory that followed.

Day 3-24But elsewhere in the museum is a tribute to a group of men who are special. Each of their names is engraved on a silver goblet. Logic suggests that every man who volunteered for Doolittle’s mission to bomb Tokyo had to know in their hearts that launching a B-25 from the USS Hornet was pretty much a one-way adventure. Someone who volunteers for that job, knowing that more than likely it would be the last thing they ever do…that person is special and deserves our thanks for his courage and his service.

Taking time to read the signs explaining the goblets, I learned that they are organized by crew, identified by the pilot, with the others in the column below. Richard Cole, Doolittle’s copilot, made the case in 1973. Now 102, he is the sole survivor of the Doolittle Mission. His goblet stands next to the cognac. On the other side is the inverted goblet of the penultimate survivor, David Thatcher, the gunner on Ted Lawson’s crew. Cole drank a final toast to him and the other 78 members whose goblets stand mouth down in the velvet-lined case in 2016, on the 75 anniversary of the mission.

Yeah, the rest of us who served anonymously, we’re not special. You want special? Bring back the draft so everyone, male and female, has skin in the game, and let’s see who gets thanked for their service. One wonders, if every mother’s son and daughter faced the possibility of serving their nation—with a chance of dying for it in the process—would everyone be so thankful, especially to those responsible for our decades of armed conflict?

Day 3-46Coming across the new Memphis Belle display diverted my gloomy train of thought, and it explained why there was a P-47 under the wing of the C-123. The museum staff cleared out a lot of airplanes to make room for the Belle, and they haven’t yet finished rearranging the space yet. And you can’t just park such historic artifacts outside, can you? My hat’s off to the curators who created the display and putting the airplane on up on its jack points was genius! Being able to look into the open bomb bay makes a subtle point of the airplane’s purpose, and looking up at the crew positions puts their service in the proper perspective. –Scott Spangler, Editor

A Unique Around-the-World Journey Heads East

By Robert Mark on August 2nd, 2018 | Comments Off on A Unique Around-the-World Journey Heads East

A Unique Around-the-World Journey Heads East

As you read this story, Mason Andrews should be winging his way eastward out of Italy toward Croatia while sitting in the left seat of his dad’s Piper Lance (a link to the full podcast is at the bottom of this story).

Andrews was one very lucky young man when he asked his dad to borrow the airplane for a trip and received a thumbs up. OK, that’s not completely accurate unless you understand the context, that the senior Andrews did actually express a few reservations when young Mason mentioned the length of the trip … around the world.

And yes, his dad definitely raised an eyebrow when Mason told him he wanted to make the trip alone. Mason Andrews, a newly minted instrument pilot and Louisiana Tech student just recently turned 18.

When Mason Andrews completes his round-the-world trip, he should become the youngest person to complete a global trip solo. Mason wasn’t making the trip to become famous, although he likely will. The trip was actually designed to raise money for MedCamps of Louisiana to fund summer camp for kids with special needs, a summer event where Andrews also serves as a counselor.

About the Aircraft

The Piper Lance Mason will fly has been modified to carry enough fuel for legs as long as 18 hours. The Lance cruises at about 140 knots burning 13.5 gallons per hour. The first leg of the flight began last week from Republic Field on Long Island NY. The first leg took him from Republic to St. Johns Newfoundland. Mason’s flight plan includes a stop at Paris LeBourget, site of Charles Lindbergh’s arrival following his record-setting solo flight in 1927. Mason Andrews said he believes the flight’s biggest challenge will be “weather.” The Lance is much better equipped to keep him informed of the weather than Lindbergh could have ever imagined.

My EAA Radio co-host Amy Laboda and I managed to convince Mason to join us for an interview last week during our regularly scheduled “Attitude Adjustment,” show at AirVenture 2018.

One of the first things Mason mentioned the day I met him was that he was still celebrating the two-year anniversary of his first solo as a student pilot from Monticello Airport (LLQ) in Arkansas.

I think you’ll find Mason’s story worthy of 10 minutes of your time. Click here to give it a listen. You can also follow Mason’s journey on Facebook.

If you enjoyed Mason Andrews’s story, brought to you by Jetwhine.com, in collaboration with EAA Radio, we invite you to subscribe to Jetwhine.com. It’s free. You can also follow Jetwhine on Twitter @jetwhine and EAA Radio @eaaradio. Enjoy.

Rob Mark, Publisher

EAA AirVenture Stages Surprising Finale

By Scott Spangler on July 26th, 2018 | Comments Off on EAA AirVenture Stages Surprising Finale

AV3-197After its unusual start, EAA AirVenture Oshkosh returned to its predicable ways as the week passed the halfway mark. But is was just setting us up, out of the west, just above the trees and behind the backs of everyone facing the flight line for the National Anthem, came six blue and yellow F-18 jets arranged in the U.S. Navy Blue Angels’ rock solid delta formation. Everyone was like “Whaa….where’d they come from?” Reversing course, the Blues executed there Delta break, then rejoined in the delta and disappeared to the west just as magically as they had appeared. Clearly it was a well-planned (and timed) fly-by on their way to some other destination.

The second surprise came at AirVenture’s Press Headquarters on Thursday morning. On the media side of the event, this has not been the year for big announcements, and when there is a significant announcement, the orator shouts it from the stage early in the week. In other words, I wasn’t expecting much from the National Air & Space Museum’s presser at 0900 on Thursday morning. And then I saw Sean D. Tucker’s Oracle Challenger III parked in front of the press headquarters. Searching my midweek addled brain for any memory of another airplane so parked over the past 30 years I came up blank.

AV4-12 Let me cut to the chase. Air & Space is commencing a top-to-bottom makeover of the the visited museum on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. In the transformation of its 23 galleries, the museum will dedicate one of them—We All Fly—to general aviation, thanks to a $10 million gift from the Thomas W. Haas Foundation. And the Oracle Challenger III will soar above the portal to that gallery.

Tucker said he is closing out his solo air show career this season and is in the process of putting together a four-ship air show team and the sponsorship needed to make it work. While he’s gathering the second half of the necessary sponsorship, he said he would “campaign” the Oracle Challenger III to promote its new home, and then he will deliver it to the museum.

My final surprise was learning about an era of aviation I know little about, and to learn about it from roaring, burping, castor oil spitting engines that are a century old. Knowing that the crankshaft of a rotary engine is bolted to the firewall and that the prop is bolted to the crankcase and radial array of cylinders that spin as a unit is one thing. To see them actually operate is another. And I have a new appreciation for torque.

AV4-56Kermit Weeks brought three of his World War I airplanes to Oshkosh, the Sopwith Pup, Sopwith Snipe, both with 80-hp and 230-hp rotary engines, and an Albatross, with a water-cooled Mercedes engine. All the engines are original, and their airframes are exact recreations created by Peter Jackson in New Zealand. Before starting each engine, Weeks explained the operating idiosyncrasies  and operating parameters. For example, the 230-hp Bentley rotary on the Snipe burned about 13 gallons per hour of fuel, and about 3.5 gallons of castor oil, a vegetable-based lubricant. That’s important, because it doesn’t mix with the mineral based fuel, said Weeks. The lubrication system is one of constant flow; what friction doesn’t consume gets flung out of the engine, liberally lubricating the pilot and airframe. “It’s my beauty secret,” said Weeks. “Another benefit of the system is that you never have to change the oil. You just add more before every flight.”  Unfortunately, Mother Nature didn’t allow any such excursions, and that was certainly no surprise. – Scott Spangler, Editor