Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Foreword

Introduction

Moving to Lake of the Ozarks

Settling In

Lake Ozark Country Opra

Lake Concrete Company

Close Neighbors

Call-in Pilot

A Voice in the Storm

Bahamas

Smiley and a Promising Opportunity

Flight to Oregon

Air Taxi Certification

Hazards of Weather

Diversions, Distractions, and Duties

Teaching and Learning

Transport and Delivery

Missionary Contacts

Kansas City on Ice

Blessings To All

A New Start

Smith’s Flying Service, Again!

Now We’re Truckin’!

Flying Again!

Crop Dusting & Life Saving

A Christmas Quick Trip

Disaster

BARF

Epilogue

Author’s Testimony

About the Author

Glossary

Photo Credits

His Wind Beneath My Wings, II

A Pilot’s Odyssey

Lionel Smith

HIS WIND BENEATH MY WINGS, BOOK 1

Lessons and experiences shared from this Christian pilot’s own mishaps and pilot training experience.

After receiving several calls from God to start a missionary pilot training school, Lionel finally listened. His previous experience owning and operating his own flight business proved to have been training preparing him for God’s true calling. He now trains missionary pilots who are flying in precarious situations in third-world countries, and you can benefit from his experience flying single engine aircraft.

This book shares Lionel’s practical wisdom:

- Learn how to fly a plane safely.

- Learn how to safely land in emergencies.

- Utilize this book’s extensive aviation glossary.

- Enjoy Lionel’s humor as he shares his own pilot mishaps.

- Learn how to listen to intuition and God’s voice.

This book is a great addition to all pilots’ aviation books. Lionel’s wisdom learned through experience is enjoyable, and his flight experiences are spell-binding.

Acknowledgements

Special thanks for those who prayed for my deliverance and to our Lord who delivered me from some bad situations.

Special acknowledgements for my wife Sara and my three wonderful children for their above-and-beyond love, care, and encouragement over the decades.

Thank you Boyce Mouton, for being a source of wisdom, encouragement, and direction for me since our first meeting in the nineties.

Thank you Ted and Janet Mountjoy, you were both exceptional students as well as providers of spiritual encouragement and a source of employment when I desperately needed it. You opened your home to us on a number of occasions, and shared your boats and other things with us for entertainment.

Dedication

First, I would like to dedicate this book to Sara, my lovely wife of fifty-one years, who did without a lot of the things she wanted, and in many cases needed, to make life better for me and our three wonderful children. Sara would give up anything she had if she thought someone else needed it or if she just thought they would like to have it. Sara spent many days and nights without me while she was raising our children, managing our home, and when she could, working a job to help meet the financial needs that I had not been able to meet. She also deserves special recognition for the sleepless nights she spent in prayer for my safety and for the months and years she spent in nursing and loving me back to health after a plane crash in 1979.

Second, I want to thank my two wonderful sons who had little in the sense of material things, but complained little and were as much help as they could be along the way. Skyler was born August 3, 1964, and Robert came on September 1, 1966. I also want to dedicate this book to my lovely daughter, Kayla, who was born December 14, 1970. All three endured many hardships, working to help when they could, and going to school activities and games where I should have been but wasn’t. I wish I could turn the clock back to those days and do more with them, but especially to have more quality time with them.

Third, I want to dedicate this book to my mother, Ruby, who did her best to teach me about God’s will for me. She did everything she could to be supportive of me in pursuing aviation and anything else I needed or wanted. She was a great source of encouragement and help in providing my young family with the things we needed, and inspiring us to love each other and seek God’s direction. I know Mom spent much time in prayer for me and our family. Mom went home to be with our Lord in 1976 at the age of 52.

Fourth, I want to dedicate this book to my father, Jesse, who was a hard case in so many ways, but because of his attitude that virtually nothing is impossible, I learned that what appears impossible just takes a little more effort. He also had the idea that if you don’t have time to do it the right way now, when will you have time to do it over? Dad knew what it was like to not have a lot of things he wanted or needed. As a result, he made a number of tools that he couldn’t afford to buy, and in some cases, he made tools that hadn’t been invented by others yet. Because of this background, I learned to not give up but to focus on what I had rather than what I didn’t have. Dad was the only person I ever knew who could look at a three-by-three-inch Rubik’s cube that was mixed up and tell you how many moves it would take to put all the squares back in place. Dad served as an elder in our home church in Pearl, Illinois, for a few years. He went home to be with the Lord at the age of 91 on April 29, 2011.

I also want to dedicate this book to my two sisters, Carolyn and Gina, and my brother, Bryon, who were all there for me in encouragement and help whenever they could be. Carolyn went home to be with our Lord on December 26, 1989.

Finally, I want to dedicate this book to my prayer warriors who prayed for God’s deliverance through the many close calls that I got myself into and prayed that I would, at God’s predestined time, dedicate the rest of my life to Him.

Foreword

Federal Aviation Regulation 91:103 states: Each pilot in command shall, before beginning a flight, become familiar with all available information concerning that flight.

In addition to the mandatory information that the pilot must be familiar with before beginning a flight, the wise pilot will seek to find out all information relative to the flight. The Federal Aviation Agency FSS (Flight Service Station) can provide much-needed weather information including PIREPs (Pilot Reports) and TFRs (Temporary Flight Restrictions).

Another valuable source of information involves CRM (Cockpit Resource Management). Airline pilots are trained to take advantage of all resources at their disposal. United Airlines Flight 232 is an excellent example of CRM. On July 19, 1989, that United DC-10 suffered a catastrophic failure resulting in the loss of all flight controls. The captain wisely considered all the resources at his disposal and discovered that a DC-10 instructor happened to be a passenger on that flight. CRM is a valuable concept for all pilots. Before making a flight, pilots can even learn useful information from others in the airport lounge. I want to be a wise pilot and take advantage of all the information that I can. That’s one reason I appreciate this book by Lionel Smith.

My name is Boyce Mouton. I received my private pilot’s license in 1962 and since then have added commercial, instrument, multi-engine, and instructor ratings. I have flown with Lionel and found him to be an excellent pilot with an encyclopedic knowledge of aviation. He is a pilot’s pilot, and I am honored to benefit from his thousands of hours in the cockpit.

I have read this book and found it to be both informative and interesting. It is as if Lionel is sitting down with you, the reader, and drinking a cup of coffee. In the course of this conversation, he becomes transparent and shares the story of his life. His many years of teaching lead him to not only tell us what did happen, but also what might have happened. When Lionel learns something, he wants to share that information with others.

While most who read this book will do so because of an interest in aviation, there is another dimension to the book that involves everyone. Someday we will all “fly away.” This is the expression used in Scripture to describe our death. The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away (Psalm 90:10 KJV).

If you are truly wise, you will endeavor to learn all you can to make sure your final flight is successful.

– Boyce Mouton CFI 1535377

Introduction

I have created a lot of interesting odysseys for myself. The setting for this book was the beautiful Lake of the Ozarks where I went places and did things that I should not have. As you will see, I also got myself into some very dangerous situations with airplanes.

As you read, you will see words that are italicized the first time they are used. These are words that a pilot would recognize but others likely will not. They will be defined in the glossary at the back of the book.

Some of the following information was in His Wind Beneath My Wings, Book 1. I added it to this book for the benefit of the reader who did not read Book 1.

I have included some non-flying stories, but all have some spiritual meaning to me and I hope for you as well.

This book, written because God has spared my life, will be a continuation of stories of life-threatening situations. One of the differences between this book and the first book is that my residence is in Missouri during the time that this book is taking place.

These stories deal with a number of flights in small airplanes that ended up putting me in dangerous situations where I was totally helpless, but because of God’s intervention, I survived. I will tell about the time that God called me to establish a missionary pilot training organization, which I didn’t do until after a plane crash left me in such a bad condition that the doctors in the emergency room at the first hospital told my wife there was nothing they could do for me.

As you read these stories, you will see that I got myself into some very bad situations. There will be places where it looks like I took control of some of these. You will see my shortcomings, ignorance, fears, and at times, complete abandonment of common sense. I hope you enjoy these and come to the same conclusion that I did as I lived them – there truly is a God. You will see that God’s hand was on me continually, and you will, as I did, wonder why He would bother with me.

To begin, I return to the summer of 1952 when I first saw the Lake of the Ozarks and took my first ride in an airplane. I believe that mankind has been jealous of birds since the garden of Eden. I know I have been fascinated by flight since I was a very young boy.

I was ten years old when my father gave me a control line model airplane called Aeromite. My father, Jesse Earl Smith, attempted to fly the airplane several times. Each time it crashed, and he exclaimed, “Aeromite, and Aero might not.” I believe this model airplane helped set the hook for my interest in aviation.

During the summer of 1952, my father and mother took my sister Carolyn and me on a trip to Lake of the Ozarks. Dad had purchased a new 1952 Plymouth and wanted to take a trip somewhere. I think this was our first car. Dad drove us to Bagnell Dam at Lake of the Ozarks where I noticed an airplane sitting on floats. I immediately asked Dad to take us for an airplane ride.

Dad got the tickets for three of us to go for an airplane ride in the Cessna 170 that was sitting there. This ride in a real airplane solidified that hook and my interest in aviation. I sat in the right front seat. My father and sister sat in the back. As we taxied out, I noticed that the water was very rough. I looked up in the wing root – the point where the wing attached to the fuselage. In this case, it was at the top of the cabin where the fuel gauges were installed. I noticed the fuel gauges were both pegged on empty. I asked the pilot if those gauges meant anything. His reply was that he didn’t fly by gauges any more but preferred to fly by time. We barely got in the air before the engine quit, and we made a very hard landing. I think the time had run out.

This was an exciting event to say the least. The pilot accused me of accidentally switching the tanks. The fuel selector is in the floor, but I had been very careful getting into the plane and don’t think I did anything to the fuel selector. Since then, I have flown hundreds of hours in a Cessna 170, which is the same model as that first one I rode in, and have serviced many. I know that the fuel line is located in the bottom center of the tank and can be above the fuel with five gallons in the tank during a steep climb or descent. In other words, you can run out of gas with gas still in the tanks.

We landed so hard that both doors flew open. My first airplane ride ended with a forced landing. My father and sister had all the airplane ride they wanted at this point. I still insisted that I wanted to go for a ride. Dad told me later that he didn’t want to go, but couldn’t let on that he wasn’t brave enough if his ten-year-old still wanted to go. So we went.

As you will see, I had a number of close calls, and like that first ride, God’s watchful care protected us and protected me on many future flights as well. Pilots can learn from my experiences; others can benefit spiritually. These stories can provide a pastime for anyone who reads them. Remember, we need to learn from others’ mistakes because we won’t live long enough to make them all ourselves.

In 1971, I moved my family – Sara, Skyler, Robert, and Kayla – to Lake of the Ozarks. By 1978, I had a Fixed Base Operation (FBO) where we were doing flight training, providing air taxi services, including scheduled commuter airline services as a partner with Podunk Airlines, banner towing, airplane rental, and some ag plane operations. We had a going and growing business, but I still wasn’t thanking and praising God like I should have been.

During the fall of 1978, I received a divine call to start a missionary pilot training and support organization. I heard the call, made some plans, then let the devil distract me with business things and things that were fun to do. (Sinning is so much fun, but I can’t afford it and neither can you.) I went about scheduling customers, making plans for 1979, and having fun hunting, fishing, and other things. So what was wrong here? I was not doing what God had called me to do. On April 29, 1979, I crashed in an ag plane (crop duster).

It wasn’t until after my ag plane crash in 1979, and during the time I spent physically healing that I came to the realization that God had never turned His back on me. Sara told me that a few days after the crash the first hospital told her there was nothing they could do for me. This would have been as bad as news could get. Then Sara told me that a lady in the emergency waiting room told her to have the ambulance take me to UMC (University Medical Center at Columbia, Missouri) because they were a training hospital. They would do something even if they thought the patient wouldn’t make it. (I think that lady was an angel sent by God to give Sara that message). I spent fifty-six days at UMC and another five months wearing a back brace after I got home. My doctor wanted me to stay in the hospital for another month. I was flat on my back and hooked up to hoses all that time, so I was looking up. While my body was healing, I was also healing spiritually.

I have heard it said and have said it myself that there are two kinds of people in the world: those who think an airplane is just a fast way to get somewhere and those who live, think, and totally love the idea of flying. I fell hopelessly into the latter category.

Some of the most dangerous things a beginning pilot must deal with come from his lack of knowledge of what he is doing in flying the airplane – in other words, his inexperience and his ego. By the grace of God, I outlived these but not without my share of bad landings and turbulence.

This book is not a flight training manual, a biography, a novel, a praise and worship book, a book of devotions, a prayer book, a book of praises, or a book of thou-shalt-not’s in airplanes, but I think you will see a hint of all of those as you venture through. Many of the settings in this book are from the era when flying was flying and before the days when it became simply aviation.

This is also not intended to be just a book of my stories, but hopefully a means to help the pilots reading them to become better pilots and others to become more spiritually aware of the God who created all things and who watches over His creation, which includes you and me.

What might be special or different about this book? Most of the events are actual experiences of the author. Many of the aviation stories were exciting but very close calls that could have been my last flight.

What audiences might read this? To whom am I addressing it? Light-airplane pilots, missionary pilots, and the general audience. Most of the stories in this book are about me, but there will be an occasional story about other pilots. Some of these will be funny, some exciting, and for me a few will be sad. Some even deal with historic facts.

There will be some non-flying stories in this book as well.

As you read the following pages of close calls, you will see that I got myself into situations where I could see no way out, and God delivered me.

Some of the names of people and places have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty

On the Light Side

“Son, you’re going to have to make up your mind about growing up or becoming a pilot. You can’t do both,” my dad said to me. I am a slow learner. As you read this book, you will see I never did grow up; I just got old.

Sara and I had very little money and we had three children at home. But I had this desire to work in aviation. The fact of having little money and three children, however, was a problem for someone who wanted to work in aviation. Sara and I came from poor families, and everything in aviation costs a lot of money.

One thing I learned is how to make a small fortune: You start with a large fortune and get involved in aviation. I only heard about this, as I had never had a large fortune. I did learn what makes an airplane fly, however, and that is money.

Getting Started

It seems we struggle to accomplish things as we go through life and frequently end up in situations that don’t work out.

I had given no thought to the fact that I had no education in business management and no financial support. This created a problem. I wasn’t living the Christian life that I should have been, nor was I spending time in prayer for God’s guidance.

Providing the necessities for my family became a day-to-day struggle. Sara and I were both members of a Restoration Movement Christian Church, but there were none in our area like we were used to. Due to the stress, culture shock, and other things, we didn’t look for a church right away. There was a non-instrumental Church of Christ and a Disciples of Christ Church in Camdenton, which were similar to what we were used to.

Later in this book, you will see where a Restoration Movement Christian Church was started in Camdenton by Francis Jackson. Sara and I had attended home church services and meetings in a store building. We encouraged Francis to start a church. Camdenton soon had a Restoration Movement Christian Church. This was the second church that Sara and I had a part in starting.

God has blessed me through many close calls in the air and on occasions when we had little money. He supplied and never let us go without anything we needed. We never missed a meal. For a while, we ate bread and beans, and when we got tired of that, we ate beans and bread.

Not being acquainted with the area, I didn’t know where I could hunt or fish. I must admit there were many times in my life that I felt like we needed things that we really didn’t. Sometimes we felt like we needed a doctor but didn’t go to one, and God healed us. Other times we wanted something for our children that we couldn’t have. But we did take time to just walk with the boys and push Kayla in her stroller. This was quality time that I wish I had done more of. Sara, bless her motherly heart, did what she could with the children, including making things for them. We had a sixteen-foot jon boat and a five-horsepower Sea King outboard motorboat. Now and then, I took the family for a boat ride and a fishing trip. Thank God for Sara.

We certainly do serve an awesome and caring God. Praise the Lord.

Psalm 23:1, a psalm of David, says, The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

Life is simple. Eat, sleep, fly. But we must not forget to serve our God at all times. Psalm 23:5 says, You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.

As you read, the scenarios may change with no apparent continuity. Please bear with me, for this book would be very large if I included everything.

CHAPTER 1

Moving to Lake of the Ozarks

If you read His Wind Beneath My Wings I, you know I had terminated my job at Blrd Aviation because of a new chief pilot who seemed egotistical and was quick to let me know that he was the chief pilot and that he had what I wanted. I sure didn’t have or want his attitude.

I worked for Timke Manufacturing in Green Valley for a while, which helped us get caught up on our bills and have a few extra dollars.

I had started Smith’s Flying Service at Havana, Illinois. This city-owned airport was about seven miles east of the city and had approximately 2,100 feet of airstrip, which consisted of 700 feet of asphalt and the rest grass. At times, most of the grass strip was flooded, and I used the 700 feet of pavement for all our operations. I believe this was part of my training to help me get ready to train bush pilots later on. By general aviation standards, a 700-foot-long runway is very short.

After a few months and several flights at Havana, I knew I had to do something different. I started doing some instruction at Mount Hawley Auxiliary Airport in Peoria. That is where I met Jack.

Jack was a businessman in the Pekin, Illinois, area. I don’t know what he really did, but he apparently had some money, as he bought airplanes now and then and had money to use them.

One day, Jack came to the Mount Hawley Airport and asked me to join him in the coffee shop to talk. I accepted his offer. Note: I grew up in a country setting with the idea that everyone is honest (well, almost everyone) until proven otherwise. I wasn’t expecting Jack to be dishonest with me, and I was eagerly waiting for some good news about aviation opportunities.

Jack asked if I would oversee and manage his airport operation at Lake of the Ozarks for a hundred dollars a week and free rent in his mobile home. He told me I could do freelance flight training and pilot-for-hire services and keep whatever I made doing that as well as my wages. A hundred dollars a week, plus. Wow!

Jack mentioned a lot of other things that sounded good to a naïve, country boy/pilot, like charter service and lots of money. It wouldn’t have sounded much greater if he had included the moon, the stars, and the whole rest of the universe. And I fell for it.

The Lake of the Ozarks is a beautiful and exciting place to visit as well as a place where other people bring in troubling things.

When it came time for us to move to Lake of the Ozarks, our neighbor across the fence (at Edgewood Terrace near Forest City, Illinois) asked if he could buy our property. I told him he could and gave him a price. He paid our asking price. This was a confirmation for me that we should move to Lake of the Ozarks.

I know now that sometimes God will give us things that we want just to pamper us, not necessarily a sign that it is the right thing to do. I also learned that I have to make the best of a situation wherever it is and whatever it is because God allowed me to be there. It seems as though we struggle to do things as we go and always end up getting into the things that don’t work. I was so excited about getting to do what I longed to do that I completely left God out of the picture.

Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children (Ephesians 5:1).

No one should seek their own good, but the good of others (1 Corinthians 10:24).

I had purchased a 1963 Dodge pickup that had a 225-cubic-inch slant-6 engine and a manual three-speed transmission. The truck was a very experienced one, as it had over 300,000 miles on it. I purchased it from the machine shop where I worked for Timke Manufacturing. Note from my son Robert: “Old Yuck – The ugly truck.” Lionel: “I believe it was painted brown with a brush or maybe a push broom. This truck with a plywood box that I built on it and our 1964 Dodge car, which also had a lot of miles on it, was all we had to move with. We made this move during June of 1971 with everything we owned.”

The following picture is of me (Lionel), Sara, Skyler, Robert, and Kayla Smith, probably in the summer of 1973. We are standing in the front yard of the home where I lived in Pearl, Illinois, from 1948 until Sara and I got married January 17, 1962. My parents were still living there.

The trip to the lake was interesting as we had literally everything we owned on an overloaded pickup and in an old car. We had very little money and were travelling with three small children on a hot summer day. We transported all of our household things, my tools, books that I had used to get my pilot certificates, our Sea King outboard motorboat, our 16-foot jon boat, our personal items, and a 250cc Benelli motorcycle. I had made a couple of brackets to carry the Benelli on the front bumper of our truck. We put our jon boat on top of the car.

The children were very good even though it was a long, hot day. We stopped often to let the vehicles and their tires cool down and to let our children change vehicles. This decreased the boredom for both the drivers and the children. Praise God for three good kids and a loving wife who would give her best effort in a trying situation like this. Looking back, I question my decision to attempt such a trip under the conditions that we had at that time.

A wife of noble character is her husband’s crown (Proverbs 12:4).

Sara had packed food and drinks for the trip as well and as plentifully as she could with our limited resources. We had emptied our refrigerator into the ice chest. We had a large ice chest (eighty quarts) and a couple of water jugs. We got ice before we left, but needless to say, we were drinking warm water when we got to Osage Beach, Missouri. Jack met us at the airport and gave us a key to the mobile home.

We were given the use of a twelve-by-sixty-foot mobile home. Exhausted from the trip, we simply took in a few blankets and other necessities for the night. The next day we moved things into the trailer. Belongings from the trailer and the extra things we had were stored in a hangar. Within a few days, my model airplanes were stolen – a Flite Streak, Ringmaster, Voodoo, and a Lil Satan. The Flite Streak and the Voodoo had pressure-injected fuel systems on them. Today these airplanes are just pleasant memories.

The following day, I met Dennis Nations who had been working for Jack for a few weeks. Dennis was hired to take care of the general airport business – keeping the office clean, pumping gas, and minding the rental car business. I was to oversee. Jack told me that Dennis would continue this work, and I would be his supervisor in regard to the airport work.

After I had a quick tour of things with Jack and Dennis, I took Sara and our children to find the stores and get what necessities we could afford for the home. Within a few days, Jack let Dennis go and gave me the whole airport operation, which left me with little time to fly with anybody. As it worked out, I got called out to fuel airplanes at all hours of the night as well, because this was a resort area and the parties often ran late.

I also inherited the job of washing, cleaning, servicing, and renting the cars, and cutting grass, cleaning the office, which included the “small room” (I think it had a sign on the door that read “Operations”), and minding the phone.

Yet he has not left himself without testimony: He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy (Acts 14:17).

CHAPTER 2

Settling In

(In the following stories, some of the names have been changed to protect the guilty and the innocent.)

On the interesting side, there were thousands and thousands of insects called walking sticks where we were living. These are long, ugly insects that seem to be harmless; our boys were fascinated with them. (Note from Skye: The insect “plagues” were of every variety – walking sticks, cicadas, and ticks of three different sizes.)

One day Robby found a five-dollar bill that was weathered beyond being useable. He found it near Fred Radle’s hangar. (Fred was the local aircraft mechanic and inspector.) Fred told Robby that he could keep it. Sara took Robby to the bank with his prize, as five dollars was a lot of money to a four-year-old. Looking back on these times, I believe that was God sending His love to us in these ways to distract us from the trials. I have only seen a few walking sticks since then and can’t recall having seen one for many years.

In regard to the trials of the time, it came to me that we had given up our home in Illinois, moved a long way from our friends and family to a place that was foreign to us, and spent virtually all the money we had to make a move just for me. I get choked up thinking about it today. I had second thoughts after we made this move, and for some time I wished we could move back to Illinois, but we simply didn’t have the money. I still hoped to do well in a flying business.

Sara never complained about anything in those days. She was content with what we had and made do by sacrificing things that she had or could get to give to the boys and me. The boys seemed to be content and found things to keep them busy – insects and other things. I thank God for Sara and praise Him for His care and provision. I praise the Lord and will share input from our children later in this book.

Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).

Charlie Laurie

The day I met Charlie, he came to the administration office at the Grand Glaize Airport in Osage Beach where I was the airport manager, right? And I was the flight instructor, right? Charlie noticed my sign offering an introductory flight lesson for five dollars. He asked me if I thought he was too old to learn to fly. I responded no, but he might need to consider some medical things before he could get his license. He said he wanted the introductory flight lesson we had advertised.

I didn’t have anyone scheduled at that moment and was glad to give him our introductory flight lesson if he so desired. Charlie smiled and said he did.

So we walked out to the ramp where Jack’s Cessna 150 (C-150) was parked. I proceeded to do an abbreviated pre-flight inspection by checking the oil, draining the water traps, and untying the airplane. I was thinking there was no way this old guy would ever learn to fly. We got in with Charlie in the left seat. I went through the pre-start checklist and got the engine started. As I was doing all this, I noticed that he didn’t seem all that interested in what I was doing, and I began to wonder if this old guy might already know more about flying than I did.

As I started the airplane moving, Charlie commented that he noticed I was steering with my feet and wondered if he could try it. I answered, sure, and let him have it. I was pretty sure by then that I had been had on this one. We stopped short of the runway and did a pre-takeoff run-up check. I let Charlie taxi onto the runway, and I opened the throttle and was cautiously watching as Charlie steered the plane. He asked if it would be okay if he did the takeoff. At this point, I knew I was had. I told him, sure, you have it.

I did notice that Charlie stayed on the ground until we were indicating a speed of nearly ninety miles per hour (in a C-150, we would have normally been in the air by sixty). In the air, this old fellow obviously knew what he was doing. After our brief flight, we went back to the office. Charlie gave me the five dollars, and then went on to tell me more about his experience as a pilot.

Charlie was one of the first airmail pilots. He started when the mail was flown by a private carrier, and later the government got involved with the airmail service. As far as I know, the first scheduled airmail service began in 1916 and was partially funded by government money. Around 1920, the transcontinental airmail system was established. Charlie was one of the first pilots to fly both services.

He also told me about the bonfire-lighted airways being established and later the beacon-light airways. When the service was inaugurated in 1918, Curtiss JN-4H planes with Hispano-Suiza motors were used.

Charlie told me he had an airstrip on his farm near Buffalo, Missouri, and noted that if I flew down, I would have to land uphill and watch for red spots in the grass, as there were rocks that he couldn’t move so he had painted them red. I was thinking, that works for me. Charlie seemed like he very much wanted me to fly in on his strip. I believe that the old fellow had done all this work mostly by hand with the hope that someday someone would land there. As far as I know, I was the only pilot to ever do it. Sometime later, after I had purchased my own C-150, I made it a point to fly to Charlie’s airstrip and land there. I greatly enjoyed my time with the old gentleman.

Charley was a WWII veteran and one of Jimmy Doolittle’s assistants while preparing for the raid on Tokyo. He showed me a lot of aviation history with stories, pictures, and things related to his aviation background, including some World War II souvenirs that Jimmy Doolittle had given him. During the war and the time of preparation for the raid on Tokyo, Charlie worked closely with Jimmy Doolittle to prepare for this mission that seemed impossible to most. This is a very interesting story that you may want to look up in books or on the Internet. Every airplane and almost half of the crew members were lost on this mission, and Jimmy thought he would be court-martialed. When he made it back to the States, he was met with a hero’s welcome, not only because he destroyed the targets that he was sent to destroy, but also because he proved to the Japanese that their homeland was vulnerable to attacks. This victory was a major boost to the morale of the United States military.

Charlie also told me about Billy Mitchell. I don’t recall that he said he ever met him. Billy died at the age of 57 in 1936 after the longest-running court-martial in US history. See the book Flyboys by James Bradley for this interesting story.

Charlie had pictures of planes that he flew at different phases of his flying career including the mail planes. He had some of the charts used in those days, the instruments they had, and stories that went with them. In some of the early planes he flew, the engines were open on top (not necessarily the vertical top of the engine, but rather the area of the cylinder head and valves), requiring frequent stops to oil the rocker arms and valves. I think he told me that something had to be serviced on the lower end of the engine as well.

Some of the very early planes had either primitive airspeed indicators or none at all. Some had a skid on the tail rather than a wheel (a real tail dragger). I asked Charlie how he knew what the speed was, and he smiled and said unless he was taking off or landing, he seldom thought about that. Then he added that if you were approaching to land and the sound of the wind in the wires was too high pitch, you were too fast, and you made a go-around. If the sound was right, you landed. And if it got too quiet, it was your last flight. I got the message. Airplanes were not spin tested until about the time of World War I, when according to the record I found on the Internet, the first intentional spin with a successful recovery was in 1914.

Being the curious person that I am, I asked him to tell me more about his experience in flying the mail. I wanted to know more about this time, including what effect the government had after it got involved. He told me that they used various aircraft of the day and the Curtiss Jennys beginning in 1918.

I believe the airmail started around 1911. Note: Some sources say the airmail started in 1918. As airmail caught on, the War Department got involved, but around 1918 the Post Office Department took over. In the late twenties, the postal service bought Charlie a brand new Curtiss Robin that had an OX-5 engine.

Curtiss Robin

The Robin was a high-wing monoplane that could haul the pilot, two passengers, and some cargo. The OX-5 engine was rated at 90 horsepower and was a water-cooled V8. This airplane was built with a number of different engines with up to 185 horsepower. It also set some records of endurance and had a compass that worked, an airspeed indicator, and an altimeter.

Curiosity kept nagging at me. “Okay, Charlie, you said you flew the Rockies with the mail. I assume you did that during daylight hours?” I asked with a big smile on my face.

His response was no, the mail frequently moved at night. I told him that I had flown the Rockies with a full panel of instruments and radio navigation equipment, and there were times I didn’t really know where I was and that the mountains can out-climb an aircraft. I wanted to know how he knew where he was.

He explained that was a problem. Charlie said the government gave some thought to that and quickly developed the bonfire airway system, later the beacon light system, and the radio navigation system. Being the history buff that I am and having an insatiable interest in aviation, I had read about the airway system. Charlie said the government hired people and built shacks in the mountain passes at certain locations where, at a predetermined time, the attendant at each shack would light a bonfire for the plane to fly toward. Then at another predetermined time, another would light a fire. All this was done with the hope and expectation that each would be on time and that the pilot would see the fires and be able to navigate to them. He would then take up the heading where the next fire would be.

Then I asked, “Okay, Charlie, I know from experience that mountains attract or even cause clouds, and you didn’t mention having any gyroscopically stabilized instruments for flying in clouds or any electronic navigation equipment. What did you do if you flew into a cloud bank?”

Charlie responded with a smile on his face. “The only hope in that case was to put it into a spin and hope you broke out before you broke up.”

In a spin, the airplane cannot gain speed after its terminal velocity is reached, which is basically the stalling speed of the aircraft. The terminal velocity is normally reached in two turns. Another note on this: It is one thing to recover from a spin in daylight when you can see the ground, and quite another when you have little visibility and no flight instruments. In my profession as flight instructor CFI, I am also an instrument flight instructor as well (CFII), and do spin training on instruments if the aircraft we are using is certified for spins.

We had no air force during World War II, but rather an Army Air Corps. After the war, the US Air Force was established on September 18, 1947. Charlie served through World War II, and then after the war stayed on as a purchasing agent for the air force until his retirement. He only served seventeen years and had to take a medical retirement due to cataracts. Charlie did authorize the payment for the last B-25 bomber to come off the line and was in a picture on the cover of Trade-A-Plane. In that picture were Charlie Laurie, Jimmy Doolittle, and three others; I can’t remember who the others were.

Austin Osborne

Austin Osborne was one of my students and a manager at the Pizza Barn restaurant. One of the things that made Austin different from any of my other students was that he was an amputee; he had one leg taken off just below the hip. It amazed me to see how well he could use his foot on both rudder pedals and the brakes in a Cessna 150. I occasionally took Austin with me on night freight runs in the larger single-engine airplanes and sometimes in the twin. It was amazing to me to see him adapt to other foot controls with only one foot.

1966 Cessna 150L

Austin was riding a motorcycle when he got hit by a car, which cost him one of his legs. He commented that he was handicapped, not disabled. Wouldn’t it be great if others would take that attitude?

I recommended that Austin should get an Ercoupe airplane (Aircoupe is the same airplane, different company). An Ercoupe has no rudder pedals, just a brake pedal in the floor. All the flight controls for the aileron, rudder, and elevator were all controlled by the part I will call the steering wheel, because it also guided the plane on the ground similar to driving a car. In a conventional three-control airplane, this part would be called a yoke. Note: A rudder pedal conversion was offered at one time. We found an Ercoupe at the Weiss Airport in Fenton, Missouri. Austin flew the Ercoupe quite a bit. I believe he actually got his private license in that airplane. Austin was a lot of fun and a hard worker. The picture below is a photo by Ron Dupas of a 1958 Forney Aircoupe.

One evening Sara and I went to the Pizza Barn to visit with Austin. When we walked in, he waved for us to come over to where he was cutting pizzas for his customers. Austin pointed out a very well-dressed, elderly couple and commented that they had ordered a small pizza. He asked them if they wanted it cut in four pieces or eight. The old man’s answer was to cut in four, as they wouldn’t be able to eat eight.

I heard that Austin died because of liver failure.

Red – Roland Lodjic

Sometime during 1971 and 1972, I served as a flight instructor for Red to fly his 1947 Cessna 170 to Santa Barbara, California. One of the first things I noticed was a row of several Super Guppies sitting on the storage ramp at the airport. I believe there were five sitting there. A Super Guppy is a large, wide-bodied cargo aircraft that is used for hauling outsized cargo components.

Red had some family in the area that he hadn’t seen in many years, and this was a chance for him to enjoy his recently purchased airplane and see family.

We stayed far enough south that we wouldn’t have to fly the highest of the Rockies. Our route was to take us through Albuquerque, New Mexico. We spent the night there. Several miles east of Albuquerque, our generator stopped charging, so we landed in a small dirt strip to fix the charging problem. We simply had to burnish the contacts in the regulator, and Red had a book of matches with him and a screwdriver that made short work of this task. I think we had a 20-amp generator, which would allow us to fly at night if we needed to.

Red spent about a week with friends and family, but then it was time to go home. I had heard about the Santa Ana winds, but otherwise knew nothing about them. When I got my flight weather briefing, the briefer cautioned me that the Santa Ana winds were quite strong at the mountaintops and were causing some rather severe downdrafts. As we flew west from Santa Barbara, I noticed a gradual decrease in our climb rate as we got closer to the mountains. The climb rate went to zero, then into some negative numbers. I already had the Santa Ynez Valley picked out for my escape route, so I used it. We went several miles before we got free of the downdraft.

After my brief lesson on Santa Ana winds, I decided to fly parallel to the mountains until I was at least 2,000 feet above them. The crossing was slow due to the strong headwind, but there was no downdraft. The rest of the trip was uneventful. The airplane below is a 1947 Cessna 170 similar to Red’s.

Speed Buggy

There was a cartoon series on TV that had a car that they called Speed Buggy, and our children really enjoyed watching Speed Buggy. It was red, went fast, and made a lot of noise.

These are the first pictures I found of Speed Buggy which aren’t good, but will give you a good idea of what Speed Buggy looked like.

During the late sixties, there were a couple of companies that built a six-wheeled buggy that could float. They called it an All-Terrain Vehicle or ATV. Austin Osborne had one of these machines that wouldn’t run after he had tried to fix it. He even hired someone to fix it without success. Then he told me that he would give it to me just to get rid of it. I repaired it on the spot and drove it home.

This machine was red and made a lot of noise. For the type of vehicle it was, it seemed to be fast. Right away my kids named it Speed Buggy. We drove it around in the hills and took it to the lake and ran it in the water. It was another one of those little extras that God gave us. I had wanted one of these since they came out, but there was no way I could afford one. So God gave us one.

This was another source of pleasant memories and a reminder that God can give us the desires of our heart. The key to this is that we desire serving and loving our Lord above all else; then He does provide the extras.

Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment (1 Timothy 6:17).

Pinky the Barnstormer

Pinky was a schoolteacher in Alton, Illinois, and an air show pilot. I am pretty sure this was not his real name, but it was the only name I knew for him.

Pinky was one of the old-school pilots in that he could take your grandma for her first airplane ride and be as gentle as anyone could. He dearly loved to take people of any age for their first ride and make it as smooth and comfortable as possible to make it a joyous event, with the idea that it might inspire some new pilots. Or, he could take an old warbird and do low-altitude aerobatics with the best of them. Pinky had an FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) low-altitude waiver for aerobatics at air shows.

When the school year ended, Pinky would spend the summer in his houseboat on Lake of the Ozarks. He usually had some kind of unusual airplane that he would park at the Grand Glaize Airport in Osage Beach to hop rides for anyone who wanted to go for a small price. But he also took a lot of people for rides at no cost to them. The picture below is of a T-6 military trainer.

One day a schoolteacher from the same school where Pinky taught came by where Pinky was sitting under his umbrella by his card table, which was close to a North American SNJ-6 airplane. Note: This airplane was best known as the T-6, the air force designation. The name “Texan” is commonly attached to it. The SNJ designation was the navy version of the aircraft. These aircraft were powered by a Pratt & Whitney R-1340 engine with 600 horsepower. They were tactical trainers and usually one of the last trainers before the pilots went on to the fighters. I was blessed with the opportunity to fly with Pinky in the T-6.

I don’t know the name of the other teacher, but he drove up to where Pinky was sitting by his card table, pennants, and umbrella. This teacher was also a pilot, but not at all like Pinky. One of this guy’s favorite things to do was to take a person up for his first airplane ride and scare the life out of them. This day he went up to Pinky and asked if he could get a ride in the military trainer. Pinky was glad to oblige on this one. The Grand Glaize Airport has a 3,200-foot runway that is oriented southeast 14 and 32 northwest. When taking off on 14 after you leave the end of the runway, you are over a cove in the lake that runs east toward the Grand Glaize arm of the Lake of the Ozarks.

Note: I did not get to witness this flight. Pinky put his passenger in the front seat in this two-place, tandem-seated training plane. He taxied on runway 14, opened the throttle on the 600-horsepower engine, and took off. As soon as the wheels were off the ground, Pinky retracted the landing gear, left the throttle wide open, and after passing the end of the runway, he dove down the cove while making a sharp left turn. Then he headed east out of the cove into the main channel of the lake, flying just barely above the water. When they got to the Grand Glaize arm of the lake, they turned north toward the world-famous Grand Glaize Bridge, the upside-down bridge featured in Ripley’s Believe It or Not. Pinky pulled up enough to roll the airplane upside down, then back to not much above the water and under the bridge.

This airplane did not have any inverted fuel or oil system installed and would only run a short time inverted. Initially after going inverted, there would be a fire from the exhaust, a lot of black smoke, and a rough-running engine that soon stopped. Just after passing under the bridge, the engine quit running. Pinky had enough speed at that point to push the nose up and roll right side up. The engine restarted, but by this point, the passenger apparently had all the airplane ride he really wanted and pointed back toward the airport.

A couple of the other planes that I remember Pinky having were a Republic Seabee and a Cessna AT-50. The Seabee is a light, amphibious airplane, and the AT-50 was a light twin designated as AT for “advanced trainer” but nicknamed the Bamboo Bomber, as many of its parts were made of wood. I actually got a ride in the Bamboo Bomber. The T-50 Bamboo Bomber and Republic Seabee photos are furnished by Ron Dupas, 1000aircraftphotos.com.

Below is a T-50 known as the Bamboo Bomber.

Republic Seabee

CHAPTER 3

Lake Ozark Country Opra

This show was on what is known as the “Strip.” It was on the hill west of Bagnell Dam.

During the time I was getting settled in with Lake Flying Service, some friends of the people I was working with came by for a visit and told us that they were thinking about starting a country music show near Bagnell Dam. They mentioned that they were looking for people to play instruments and sing. One of the ladies had said she wanted to try out for the singing. After a while, they asked Sara if she would sing for them, which she did. They decided to work with Sara to see if she could do some of the popular country songs. After a few songs, they hired her to go on the show with them.

While I worked part of the time for Lake Flying Service, Sara sang for Carl Johnston’s Ozark Country Opra. She was the lead female vocalist and did a lot of popular songs of the early seventies. Her most requested song was “Mule Skinner Blues,” a famous recording by Dolly Parton. Sara did many others. She practiced using a tape player and records. Even though she requested many times to get to practice with the band she would be singing with, she was usually denied. But in spite of this and because of her determination to get it as right as she could, she was very popular with the crowds and had many requests to do favorite songs. Sara got paid a whopping ten dollars a show.

As Sara’s popularity grew in the area, she was asked to go on the road as a singer for Holiday Inn motels. Sara declined this offer because she had three young children and a husband at home and could not go on the road for anyone. She does have a beautiful and powerful voice and loves her family. I thank God for Sara.

Lee Mace and the Ozark Opry

Lee Mace was a Native American Indian (I believe he was Cherokee) and a businessman at Lake of the Ozarks. Lee had started a country music show called Ozark Opry. Lee was also a pilot who owned a twin-engine airplane, the Piper Aztec PA-23-250.

Lee had asked me to help him refine his short-field landing procedures and some of his instrument flying. Lee had family living in Oklahoma where he landed in a field to visit them. He was a grand old fellow and quite a showman, but a good person and always had a joke to tell you. He was a lot of fun to be around.

Along the way, I was told that Lee had purchased an aerobatic airplane. I don’t know what type it was – possibly a Starduster. I heard that Lee died in a plane crash in that airplane, certainly a great loss to many in the area. I considered Lee my friend.

Lee was known for having an old-fashioned bass guitar and literally riding it on the stage. As I said, Lee was quite a showman. His lead comedian was Bill Atterberry. Bill could do all kinds of very neat things in the show to make you laugh, including playing a shotgun as if it were a bugle. The last I heard about Bill was that he was still running the show, or at least was still in the show.

Slim and His Country Show

Slim owned a country music show. I don’t remember the seating in the auditorium, but for the area, it was large and very nice. Slim had a great show with ten or more musicians and actors on stage. I had the opportunity to meet some big stars there such as Mel Tillis and Shoji Tabuchi. Slim had a bus and traveled with his show group quite a lot during the off season (not summer).

My brother, Bryon Smith, helped to maintain the electronic equipment at the show for Slim. Bryon could fix almost anything electronic. Slim gave me a free pass to his show that was good anytime and would allow me to bring guests.

Slim and some of his musicians were interested in learning to fly. As a result, I gave some of them flight lessons. Slim got soloed; I don’t remember if any of the others got that far. Slim also offered to keep me company on my flights whenever I could take him.

Summer vacation was over, and the airport traffic was down. Winter was coming, and I didn’t know what to do to take care of my family. Oh, me of little faith! I honestly didn’t know what was next, but I did know that I had to do what I could, and God would do the rest.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? (Matthew 6:25-26)

Country Opry on Highway 42

I don’t remember who owned this one Opry. The owner gave me a pass to this show. I enjoyed country music and wanted to go to one of these shows now and then, but didn’t have the money. As time went by, I ended up with passes to all four of the major country shows at the lake, another reason to praise the Lord.

Jim Rowan and Chet’s Restaurant

Jim was from Chicago and had been in the restaurant business there. I believe Jack took us to Chet’s Restaurant and introduced us to Jim Rowan. We needed Sara to have a job, at least until I started to realize how profitable my job was going to be. Jim hired Sara to wait tables. Sara didn’t like this job at all, but knew that we needed the money and took it. (Sara, how did you manage our children while you were working?)

I stayed on at the airport through the summer, but with fall in the air, the airport business slowed down, and I realized I couldn’t make it at the airport. Sara’s income wouldn’t cover our costs of living. I was blessed to get a job at Lake Concrete Company driving a mixer truck. My job at the concrete plant and Sara’s job at Chet’s Restaurant provided us enough income that Larry Shields, our banker at Central Bank of Lake of the Ozarks, was willing to loan us enough money to buy the five acres of land that Jim had on Copperhead Ridge and to drill a water well on it.

I taught Slim to fly airplanes while I was working at the Grand Glaize Airport. The country music show was doing well, and Slim decided to build a new home and sell his 12-x-60 mobile home. Sara and I had talked to Slim about his trailer. We already had five acres with a well. The bank agreed to finance the mobile home for us, so we made our deal with Slim and moved it to the property.

As a sideline, I installed radio towers and antennas. One of the specialty items was a crank-up freestanding tower that I fabricated in my yard. I had an acetylene torch that Dad had given me and a small 110-volt AC transformer-type welder and a few hand tools. I proceeded to build some towers; my brother Bryon helped me with some of this.

This picture was taken after we had lived here for a couple of years. You can see a tower with a 12-element Wilson Laser Beam antenna on it and a number of other tower sections laying in our yard that were for sale.

Family Story

Kayla was a good baby who seemed to be perfectly content up to this time. However, she noticed the move to our mobile home on Copperhead Ridge more than the others and was much less content after that.

Robby had gone out in the yard early one morning, barefoot, in his shorts, and without his mother noticing. In a little while, Sara heard a knocking on the door and went to investigate. The doorknob was too high for Robby to reach. Sara found Robby with a present for his mother – a baby copperhead. Sara wasn’t as happy to receive it as Robby was to give it to her. Robby was five years old, but he knew enough to pick the snake up right behind its head so it couldn’t bite him. This was another time that God took care of my family.

Note from Rob: There were snakes everywhere. I remember bringing them in the house (by the head) and asking mother what kind they were. Lucky for me, Mom had some good nerves, because about every other one I’d show her was a copperhead.

CHAPTER 4

Lake Concrete Company

I was blessed to get the opportunity to teach Ted and Janet Mountjoy to fly while at the Linn Creek-Grand Glaize Memorial Airport. Ted and Janet have been friends since I met them at the airport. I taught both of them to fly the first season that I was there. When fall came and I realized that I had to find work, Ted offered me a job driving a concrete mixer truck at a decent wage. Wow! What a blessing! They are both a lot of fun and dedicated to serving our Lord. As a result, they have been a source of encouragement for me. The Mountjoys owned two concrete plants, one in Osage Beach and one in Sunrise Beach.

I saw some very expensive homes and businesses (Tan-Tar-A Resort and The Lodge of the Four Seasons) being built in some unbelievably steep places. In many of those places, the truck had to stop the mixer and be let down the slope by a bulldozer to keep it from turning over or getting stuck. Sometimes the concrete had to be moved by wheelbarrow or chutes, or pumped through pipes for a considerable distance.

The roads were a real education for a farm boy truck driver from west-central Illinois, and they made it necessary for me to do an update on human nature and surprise situations with few options. The roads were narrow, crooked, and steep. They usually had little or no shoulder or guardrail and were crowded with tourists who were not paying attention to their driving at all. This would make an ideal place for the drivers ed teachers to train our high school students, but the cars would need more than the brakes on the right side.

Many loads of concrete had to be mixed with minimum water and have chloride and other chemicals added to aid delivery and curing time, as many of the driveways were so steep the concrete would not stay on the slope if it had the normal amount of water in it. Some of the dry loads were for the Missouri State Highway Department. Dry loads that had chloride caused a lot of extra work at the plant for cleaning out the mixers.

For the kind of driving we had to do, there were few accidents with the drivers that Ted had hired. We often drove on side roads that were graveled with creek gravel with a lot of flint, which caused many flat tires, especially on tandem trucks where the rear tires have to slide in order for the truck to turn. It seemed like I had to change or repair at least two tires every morning before my first load/batch. Sometimes I changed or repaired another one during the day.

All this was an education for me even though I had been around much construction in Illinois. But most of what I did there was on dirt jobs, clearing land, building ponds, and digging ditches. I did have some experience in hauling and screening creek gravel. Most of our trucks were single axle and had an occasional flat, but not often. It did seem that any flats were too many.

Ted and Janet opened their home to Sara and me and our three children on a number of occasions and took us sailing on their Sweet 16 sailboat and riding in their inboard speedboat. Ted and I went hunting on several occasions. They invited us to go to church with them at the non-instrumental Church of Christ in Camdenton, Missouri.

Later, when Ted got a call to go into the preaching ministry, he asked me to fly him to Lubbock, Texas, to take care of details with the Christian college.

And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers (Ephesians 4:11 NKJV).

I am still able to keep in touch with the Mountjoys, and they are always a source of encouragement.

Recollections from Ted Mountjoy

Lionel, I have my pilot flight record right here in the top drawer of my desk:

My first flight with you was 1.3 hours on 6/22/71 in a C-150 registration number 7097S.

I had my first solo on 7/1/71 in the same plane.

We flew in a C-172 registration number 5910R 3 times; 17 times in the C-150.

My first solo cross-country was on 8/19/71 in the C-150.

My first long cross-country was on 8/23/71.

After that, all flights were in PA 28-235 registration number 8859W.

I received my private pilot flight test and passed on 9/21/71.

I flew a total of 248.5 hours; last flight was on 11/30/72.

I actually flew again in 1974 and got checked out again, but don’t have the date or time recorded.

Paul Warman

Paul was a maintenance man for Lake Concrete Company at the Osage Beach plant. (Ted also had a plant at Sunrise Beach.)

Paul was a get-it-running-ASAP kind of guy, which is very important if you have a load of hot concrete (starting to set up) in a broken truck. I saw Paul do remarkable things to get trucks running again or unloaded. Sometimes he added water and kept it turning until it could be moved to where it could unload.

Paul loved to hunt, fish, and talk on the CB radio. He played cards and did many other interesting and fun things. Paul knew that I had a varmint rifle and liked to hunt groundhogs. He told me that if I got any young groundhogs, he would like me to drop them off at his house. After a few weeks and several groundhogs later, the Warmans invited Sara and me to come for some barbecued “rabbit.” I thought, why not, let’s go.

As we sat around the table visiting, Lee, Paul’s wife, brought in a platter full of small animal parts that were barbequed. I helped myself to some, and once again being the trusting person that I am, I didn’t question anything until Sara nudged me and whispered in my ear that these didn’t look like rabbit to her. We ate and enjoyed the groundhogs that I had taken to them over the last few weeks – another first for me.

Paul fished with a trotline and caught a lot of large catfish. He was very good at catching crappies and other fish, so they invited us to a fish fry now and then as well.

When I was working with Howard Construction, Paul also worked with them, but usually on a different job than where I was working.

I have good memories of Paul and his family, but I lost track of them.

CHAPTER 5

Close Neighbors

Marion Watson was a neighbor who lived about a quarter mile down the road from my home on Copperhead Ridge. Marion was a gunsmith, a machinist, and a great neighbor. He would help out with anything he could.

Marion gave our son Skyler his first paying job. Marion had a worm farm and a marina. He hired Skyler to count worms and do other chores.

~~~

Note from Skyler: Some quick thoughts about Marion’s marina: I think I was about eleven or twelve when I worked for him. I used to ride my bike down there. He paid $1.50 per hour, and I had to clock out for breaks. He had an actual time clock in there.

~~~

I helped Marion with some of his gun projects, such as mounting scopes, sights, cleaning, and oiling. He also had me do some of his reloading of ammunition for customers. Several times over the years, I used Marion’s machine tools to repair some of the equipment that I had. I also bought some new guns and reloading equipment from Marion.

Marion passed away in the early 2000s, a few years after we moved to our Ironton, Missouri, home. Sara and I went to the A Road Baptist Church for the memorial service.

The Hillbilly Family

Note from Robert Smith:

The hillbilly family had eight kids and lived in a trailer with no doors, situated on a hillside that doubled as a dump. They bathed in a horse trough outside of their home. I remember them walking over to our house (sometimes nearly naked, but always barefoot in the snow) to ask for simple things: sometimes bread, sometimes sugar. We always sent them home with more than they asked for – usually shoes and clothes to go with the sugar.

Robert: I remember walking barefoot in the backyard and stepping on a hot welding rod. I think I learned to play barefoot outside because of the hillbilly family. After I stepped on the welding rod, however, no more bare feet for me.

~~~

As we went from day to day, God provided for us what we needed, including jobs for the boys to make a little spending money and to learn responsibility. I don’t know where the hillbilly family came from or what happened to them, but I consider them being there a blessing as well. In comparison to the wealth in America, I believed we were very poor until I met others with a whole lot less than we had. As Robert noted, the hillbilly family lived in a trailer with no doors and bathed in a horse tank. I doubt they had any utilities at all. I don’t remember them having a vehicle either. Their presence created a contrast that caused me to count our blessings and gave us a chance to share with them. During the years that Sara and I were raising a family, the few times I heard what the poverty level was in America, I realized we were living well below it, but we never asked for welfare. Only a few times did we rely on food stamps.

Motorcycle Gang

One evening a motorcycle gang came to our yard and insisted on camping there. They claimed they had been told it would be all right for them to camp on our land. These folks were dressed like one would think Hells Angels would be – with chains around their shoulders, large knives on their belts, leather boots with metal parts attached to them, and other intimidating articles. I told them that camping in my yard would not be acceptable and asked them to leave. They very quickly let me know that they were going to stay anyway, not exactly what I wanted to hear.

We had taken in a stray dog that we named Bing. Bing followed me out to where the bikers were and started sniffing out the bikers, showing his teeth, and giving them a low growl. He was looking right at them, appearing to try to put fear in them. Once again, they made it pretty clear that they were going to stay anyway.

I snapped my fingers and pointed down by my feet. Bing came and sat down by me, but continued watching the bikers and showing his teeth. The bikers became more interested in my dog than me. I thank God for a dog named Bing.

The bikers decided to leave. Praise the Lord. Bing was hit by a car shortly after this. He had been a devoted dog that protected us and helped me get wild game for food.

Note from Rob: Bing just about ate the garbage man. I believe it was said that he had been “dumped.” I didn’t know what that meant at the time. Just thought it had something to do with the junk man who from time to time was going to take Kayla away. Everyone knows a “yeller dog” is the best kind of dog a six-year-old boy could have. Unfortunately, Bing had an addiction to chasing cars, which was the end of him.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart (Psalm 91:4).

Welcome Visitors

Much to our surprise, one day Sharon Ayres and her son Jay came driving up our driveway at our Linn Creek, Missouri, address. Times had been challenging for us, and this visit was a welcome surprise.

Another time, Bob and Launa Shepherd came for a visit and brought gifts. Sara’s sister, Launa Shepherd, and her husband Bob came and brought Christmas gifts at a time when we had virtually no money. I had not been paid from my job at Lake Flying Service for some time. Christmas was coming, and we didn’t have anything for the children. It seems as if Launa knew that and needed to come and bring gifts. We were so thankful for their visit and the gifts. Thank you, Bob and Launa, for the blessing in a tough time.

CHAPTER 6

Call-in Pilot

Glenn W. and his wife, Janet, were a two-person team with simple hand tools. They started building roadside billboard signs and started a company that became known as Osage Outdoor. The company was very successful and at one time Glenn and Janet owned every outdoor sign company in Missouri, or so Glenn told me.

When I met Glenn, he owned a well-equipped Cherokee Six airplane (a six- to seven-place single-engine plane) and had a company pilot who was not instrument rated, which made it necessary when flights had to be made on instruments for Glenn to hire another pilot to make the flight. As time went on, I got called on occasion to make some of those flights. It was common for the company pilot to take the right seat and serve as co-pilot. On other occasions, I went on my own. As the company grew, it became obvious that he needed to upgrade to a light twin (Piper Seneca) with more equipment.

One of the call-in pilots lived near Glenn’s office and was a Vietnam veteran with a lot of pilot qualifications and, possibly in part due to his war experience, had little fear of dangerous situations. On the last flight this pilot did for Osage Outdoor, they flew into some heavy icing and barely made it through, causing Glenn to never call him again.

This incident also caused him to trade up to a newer and better-equipped airplane, the Piper Seneca II, basically a twin-engine Cherokee 6 with de-ice boots on the leading edges, electric de-ice on the propellers, and an electric de-ice plate on the pilot’s windshield. It was equipped with onboard radar and other nice “toys.”

Then he started calling me more often. On one occasion, Glenn asked me if I would be his full-time pilot. Because of other things I was working on, I told Glenn I would come in if I could, but he should give me as much lead time as possible. With our working agreement in place, we got along fine.

The company plane delivered much-needed small tools and supplies to crews working around the state. On occasion, it transferred crews to work on Monday and picked some up on Friday. On other occasions, the company plane took Glenn and friends on outings.

Emergency Locater Transmitter (ELT)

The ELT was one of those things that I was told to always check to make sure it was turned off after I landed so that I would not get swarmed by CAP and the police.

One morning I had to go to Lee’s Summit Airport to pick up some of the men to bring them home for the weekend. I did the pre-flight inspection and found the airplane to be in airworthy condition. I started the engines, and as I taxied to the runway, I turned on the radios. When the radios came on, I heard an ELT signal coming in on 122.8 Mc, which is the communication frequency for the airport. The ELT frequency is 121.5 Mc.

This let me know that I was close to the ELT in order for the signal to be coming in on the wrong frequency. It is pretty common for someone to make a hard landing, causing the ELT to turn on or accidentally turning on an ELT when flying to this airport. The Grand Glaize Airport is the closest airport to the Tan-Tar-A Resort, and many of the pilots and passengers are under the influence of alcohol or something else at times, so maybe one of them made a hard landing or accidently turned on the ELT. I checked the remote switch to the ELT on my airplane and found it to be in the off position.

At this point, I didn’t think it was possible that the signal was coming from my ELT and simply turned off the radios and took off to go to Lee’s Summit. It was a beautiful morning, and I was enjoying the sound of the synchronized engines and the beauty of the day as I looked down on the main channel of the Lake of the Ozarks that goes west to Warsaw, Missouri. That arm of the Lake is the Osage River, named after the Osage Indians.

As I was nearing the Lee’s Summit Airport, I turned on my radios again and found that I still had the ELT signal with me. Then I knew it had to be the unit in the plane I was flying. My thoughts went to the idea that I was on a pretty tight schedule and the FAA and perhaps the CAP would be detaining me because of the ELT signal.

As soon as possible after landing, I got my screwdriver and removed the ELT compartment cover and proceeded to manually switch it to the off position. I then turned on my aircraft radio to see if the ELT was off. It wasn’t. I then removed the unit from its mount and disconnected the antenna cable, and it was still transmitting. Next step, I took the unit apart and removed the battery – success at last; the ELT was dead. I was still thinking that I would soon see the FAA, the CAP, the local police, or someone who was looking for the aircraft that was in trouble.

No one ever showed up, and there was no mention of it in the evening news. It was not very reassuring that you would be rescued if your aircraft is equipped with an ELT that was supposed to get you found if you crashed but was not working. No CAP, police, or anyone else was concerned about my ELT going off for possibly a couple of days, even as I was flying halfway across the state of Missouri. It sure makes me feel secure to have one of those aboard.

Goin’ to Florida

One of the things that the company plane did was to take Glenn and some friends or family to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, to get on his Hatteras fishing boat. I got this job now and then. On the first such flight, he said we had an empty seat and that my wife Sara could go if she wanted to. Sara went.

Along the way, we made an uneventful stop at Birmingham, Alabama, another at Tallahassee, Florida, and on to Fort Lauderdale. On the last leg of the flight, we went over Orlando, Florida, where Disney World was under construction. I managed to get some pictures of this project, and years later we went there when we were on a trip to visit New Tribes Mission headquarters at Sanford, Florida.

When we got to Fort Lauderdale, Glenn took us out to Fisherman’s Wharf for our evening meal. Glenn had invited several others to join us, and it was to be his treat. He suggested a sampler platter that had a price tag of over a hundred dollars per plate. This was a shock to me, as I was used to buying fifteen-cent hamburgers. The meal was a treat. I also noticed that Glenn left several hundred-dollar bills for the tip.

Disney under construction

We spent the night in Glenn’s very nice and very large motor home. The next day, we went to the dock to his fishing boat. I made a mistake when I stepped on the mahogany deck with my shoes on and was promptly reminded to take my shoes off. Sara was right behind me and got the message. She quickly took her shoes off.

We got a tour of this very elaborate “fishing boat.” While sitting on the rear deck and talking, Glenn asked me if I noticed any difference between his boat and the next one over. My response was wrong again, as I responded the other boat was twice as large. Glenn quickly corrected me. That was a yacht and could only wallow around in the sea with a top speed of around eight knots, but Glenn’s was a fishing boat. He pointed out the fish-spotters tower, the weather radar, and the pilot’s controls here and above. I thought I was being nice to call his boat a yacht. This boat had 3,000 horsepower and could plane like a ski boat with a top speed of around thirty-five knots. I got put in my place again, don’t ya know.

Glenn told us that he would take Sara and me for a cruise on his boat, but then he found out that the boat couldn’t get out of the harbor for a few days. There was a railroad bridge that had to open to let the boat out, and it was broken, so it could not open.

With our plans for the cruise cancelled, Glenn decided that I should take the plane, his wife, Sara, and one other person back to Missouri the next day.

CHAPTER 7

A Voice in the Storm

We loaded the plane, topped off the fuel tanks, checked the weather, and took off. The weather was great with favoring winds and our lighter load, but the forecast began to deteriorate as we went north. I decided we could safely make Birmingham, Alabama, and hopefully make it a quick turn stop where we could get fuel, make a restroom stop, and get going again right away.

While I was paying for the fuel, the airport intercom announced that a tornado had touched down west of the airport and was headed our way. The airport would be closed in ten minutes. I immediately asked the attendant if he had any hangars open and he promptly answered no. My next question was, Do you have any tie downs available? Once again the answer was no.

I didn’t have a clue about what to do. If we stayed there, we were going to be in a serious storm and almost certainly lose the plane. I decided to see if we could get in the air, fly around the bad stuff, climb out on top of the lower weather, and go on north. The Seneca had onboard radar, turbo-charged engines, a good autopilot, and some passengers who were not at all in favor of flying in weather like they could see coming with a young pilot who obviously didn’t have any sense at all.

I told my passengers to get in the plane now, as we had to go. No one argued about anything. They all quickly climbed into the tiny plane and buckled up while I was starting the engines. Our flight plan was already on file, so all I had to do was contact ground control with my aircraft identification and tell him that we were instrument to K15, which is the identifier for Osage Beach, Missouri.

The radio came back clearance on request, taxi to runway 24. In a short time, he had my clearance and read it off to me. I quickly read it back to him. By this time, I was at our departure runway and already had my equipment set up, the radar turned on, and without running up the engines, I called the tower and told them I was ready for takeoff at runway 24. The controller came back with cleared for takeoff, the usual headings and altitudes and contact departure control. I already had the throttles open to maximum power for takeoff. We were soon in the air and climbing toward the worst-looking weather I had ever seen.

I contacted departure control and told him that I was with him and climbing to 8,000 feet. Departure came back that there was a strong cell at 12 o’clock and for me to turn left 45 degrees. What he told me agreed with what I saw on my radar, so without hesitation I turned left. Departure gave me a number of heading changes in a pretty short time. By this time, we were in the clouds in heavy rain, which looked like sheets of water coming off the wings, and we were experiencing turbulence. The lightning flashes were so bright and close that I was momentarily blinded such that I couldn’t see the instrument panel.

On other occasions, I had learned to put on my Ray-Ban sunglasses and turn the panel lights up to full bright when I was flying through a thunderstorm. I kept increasing the boost to the engines as I climbed out, keeping them to maximum climb power and turning this way and that while I listened to every word the controller said.

I kept thinking that I should have taken my passengers and gone to the basement at the airport. We were approaching our assigned altitude of 8,000 feet, and I asked if the reported top of the overcast layer was still around 11,000. The answer was affirmative. I requested 12,000. After what seemed like a long time, we broke out on top at around 12,000 feet to an absolutely beautiful sight. There was a crystal-clear, star-studded sky above a fluffy, white-like carpet below. Columns of clouds stood tens of thousands of feet above us on all sides with flashing lightning powered by the God who had just brought us through this nightmare-like weather.

Why is it that we will listen to a voice of someone in a storm when we can’t see past the end of our noses, and we don’t know him, but follow his directions exactly without question, and yet we will not listen to the God who made everything, including us? When our plans get wrought into unrecognizable heaps along life’s pathways, and we don’t listen to that still, small voice telling us which way to turn, we miss God’s blessing. I have had to learn so many of life’s lessons the hard way, but do know that I have to climb above the clouds of life to see the beauty of God.

The little airplane was running great, and our ground speed was good. The weather forecast for Missouri was good. Another praise for God’s watch care to see us through what could have been a bad day.

Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy (1 Peter 1:8).

It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain (Isaiah 4:6).

What could have happened?

There are so many things that could have happened on this particular operation that I don’t really know where to start. We could have encountered a tornado or a severe wind shear that could have simply ripped the wings off the airplane. By using the onboard radar coordinating with departure control radar and by God’s provisions, we managed to miss all the severe weather while we were climbing up through the clouds, torrential rain, lightning, and severe turbulence.

As we were nearing the top of the clouds, we could have encountered icing conditions. In this particular case that close to a severe frontal system, we could have encountered severe wind shifts at the surface. It could have flipped the airplane before we even got into the air. Once again we were praising God for a safe flight in a very difficult situation when obviously I had completely abandoned common sense.

CHAPTER 8

Bahamas

The next trip to Fort Lauderdale that I made for Glenn was to pick him up at Chub Cay in the Bahamas. This was my first time to file an international flight plan. I landed at Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and filed an international flight plan to go to Chub Cay (Cay is pronounced Key). So far, this trip from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, to Chub Cay Island had been totally uneventful. I have to admit I was a bit concerned flying out over that much open water, as I had never done it before.

After a little bit of thought, I became comfortable with the idea. I was flying a nearly new light twin with a light load and single-engine capability if needed. That much blue ocean was a beautiful sight for me, and after a while I started seeing the island that I was going to. Finding the islands in the Bahama Banks was a beautiful sight in itself. As I approached Chub Cay Island, I saw quite a few very expensive pleasure boats in the harbor. The airport is a 5,000-foot-long sand-and-seashells runway, barely above sea level with a wide spot to park aircraft on.

When I arrived on the island, I noticed a small building, possibly eight feet square. This was the customs office. I shut down the airplane and walked to the customs office and what I observed there was a large black man in a customs uniform standing behind a desk. Once again, I was at the point where I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do next. I asked the customs agent what I was supposed to do, and he politely and promptly gave me a card and asked me to fill out the questions and give him five dollars.

After this was complied with, I asked him where I could tie down the airplane. He smiled and told me there were no tie-downs. He then pointed to an area where I could park the airplane and told me that I would find a barrel in which there were some chocks, so I could chock the wheels. While I was chocking the airplane, I heard a vehicle coming to the airstrip. I looked around to see a blue Ford van coming at a fairly high rate of speed, considering the condition of the road. The vehicle came to a stop near the airplane that I was chocking.

I heard a very distinct, British-sounding voice say, “I say there, old chap, would you like a ride to the lodge?”

What I saw was another very large black man with a very distinct British accent. I told him that I would like a ride to the dock and that I would be spending the night on a boat. When we got to the dock, I located Glenn’s Hatteras and went there.

Glenn had seen the airplane come in and knew I would be along very soon. He was very excited to tell me about the 225-pound blue marlin that he had caught. He also informed me that I would be taking one of his hired men, his wife, and the fish back to Fort Lauderdale the next day. I spent the night on the Hatteras fishing boat. The next morning we went to the cold storage area and picked up the 225-pound marlin, which was wrapped in plastic. We had to load the fish into the airplane.

The Piper Seneca airplane has an interior that can be used as a six- or up to seven-seat airplane. In the midship section, there was a set of three seats where the middle seat can be removed. We had to remove this middle seat to make room for the 225-pound marlin to fit through. The spear on the nose of the marlin was up in my power controls in the front of the airplane, while the tail was up in the hat shelf in the rear of the airplane. So far, so good. We loaded the fish and two passengers and flew back to Fort Lauderdale.

Upon landing, I knew I was supposed to turn off the runway and make a right turn to go to the ramp where we had been parking. Ground control told me to take a left instead. This caused some confusion and concern on my part because there was no obvious reason for me to take a left. There was no conflicting traffic to keep me from going the other way. After I made my left turn, ground control advised me that there was a large ramp on my right by a building labeled “customs” and that I would see a large, yellow circle on the ramp labeled “quarantine.” I was to park the airplane in the middle of that circle, turn off the engines, and no one was to depart from the plane until ordered to do so.

It was a very hot and humid day, and we were in an airplane, not air-conditioned, sitting on the ground. We had been ordered to keep the doors closed, place our hands on the side windows, and stay put until ordered to do otherwise. As we were sitting there literally baking alive in an airplane, four jeeps came out, loaded with soldiers, and surrounded the airplane. All of the soldiers were armed with assault rifles, bullet-proof vests, helmets, and shields. After our aircraft was completely surrounded by soldiers, a man with a loudspeaker told us to slowly open the door and leave the plane, one at a time.

All this while, I was getting irritated, very warm, and concerned about what they might do next. I am not sure, but I think this was my tax dollars working for me. I had never experienced such a thing as this. I later found out the Chub Cay fishing port was also a drug exchange place in the islands, and light twins were frequently used to bring the dope into the United States. I guess we were a suspicious-looking airplane as we apparently fit the profile for a drug plane. I have to wonder, would a drug dealer bring a planeload of drugs into an international airport?

We were escorted with the muzzles of assault rifles to the customs office. Once inside, we were asked to empty our pockets, and then we were frisked to see if we had any drug-related items on us. While part of the crew was checking us personally, the rest took all of the luggage out of the airplane and tore it apart, checking the linings in the suitcases and looking for any sign of drugs. At this point, I was thinking, man, I sure hope they don’t do anything to that fish. They had mentioned the possibility that we may have drugs in the fish. As the day went on, I actually started hoping that they would cut the fish. I had reason to believe that if they had cut the fish, there would have been repercussions.

After a while, they gave us back our luggage, and we put the other things back in our pockets. They decided not to cut the fish. At this point, we were allowed to get back in our airplane and go to the regular parking area where we had been before. I got the fish unloaded and sent it to the taxidermist. Then we went back to Glenn’s motor home to spend the night.

The next day we flew back to Missouri. This turned out to be another interesting and educational flight for me; I didn’t realize that I would be going through customs on other occasions for missions work. This trip turned out to be very helpful in serving my Lord God in the different things that He has called me to do. Praise the Lord I have made a number of other trips through customs and have not encountered any problems going to other countries, but coming to the United States of America has been more time consuming and complicated than going out.

CHAPTER 9

Smiley and a Promising Opportunity

Smiley bought a used, nearly new Cessna 182 that was well equipped, and he had me start flying him around the country to buy and sell land. Smiley was operating his plane from the Linn Creek-Grand Glaize Airport where I was working.

One day Smiley called and asked me to fly him to Wichita. I did a preflight and believed the 182 was ready to fly. We loaded up and took off. Having been taught to use my God-given senses to fly the airplane, I took off. Then as we were climbing en route, I noticed that my airspeed indicator was not working and told Smiley that we should get it fixed somewhere.

Note: I now teach my missionary pilot students to make sure the airspeed indicator is alive early in their takeoff run.

Smiley suggested we stop at the State Line Airport at Kansas City and have it fixed. Smiley and Don, who was the FBO at State Line, were friends, and I think may have been business partners. Don asked one of his mechanics to come to the office, get our airplane, take it to the shop hangar, and blow out the pitot tube. I assumed that the mechanic would know enough not to use compressed air on the pitot tube, but he didn’t.

The mechanic towed the plane back to the office, and Smiley and I got in and took off. Then I realized that not only had the airspeed indicator failed, but the altimeter and the vertical speed indicator had also failed. I told Smiley that all these instruments had failed, and I asked him if he wanted me to take him back to State Line to see about getting them all replaced, but he had a very important appointment in Wichita and wanted to go on. Being the big dummy that I am, we went ahead to Wichita, but fortunately we encountered no problems. Today, it would be a problem when they are monitoring your altitude and call you when you are 200 feet off.

Tidbit of wisdom: If you push the stick forward, the houses get bigger. If you pull the stick back, they get smaller. That is, unless you keep pulling the stick all the way back, then they get bigger again.

Gear-up Landing

One day I had to stop in at the State Line Airport in Kansas City. The airport is on the Kansas side of the state line. While I was there, someone flying a Bonanza called in on the UNICOM radio and said they were unable to get the landing gear to operate and wondered what they should do. Someone at the office that knew Bonanzas got on the radio and suggested some different things to get the gear down. Nothing worked.

So the next instructions were for the gear-up landing procedures. There were quite a few people at the airport that day from a fly-in get-together or something. While the Bonanza was flying the pattern to land, a lot of people went out along the grass runway to watch. The Bonanza landed with its landing gear up and the propeller slowing to a stop. It sustained little damage, and all its passengers were only slightly shaken.

Smiley found out about a 1966 310N (a six-passenger, light, twin-engine airplane) that was for sale at the Carthage, Missouri, airport. I flew him to Carthage and went over the 310 and its paperwork and logbooks.

Cessna 310Q Detlef Billig

After the inspection, Smiley asked me if I thought it was a good deal. I told him that I thought it was, so he closed the deal. We flew the twin Cessna home and brought another pilot back to get the C-182. We only made a few flights in the C-310 before Smiley found a trade that looked like a good deal to him. The deal was to trade the 1966 Cessna 310 for a 1964 Piper Aztec and some money for the difference.

Piper Aztec and Ron Dupas

Smiley drove a Lincoln Mark IV, wore expensive clothes, and hung out with the money crowd, so it looked like a good opportunity for me. Smiley also liked to brag about being a B-17 pilot during World War II, and showed me his military magazines with “Lt. Col.” preceding his name. After a few flights, Smiley asked if I would be interested in helping him get a charter service started. Once again my full attention was diverted to listen to all the great things that were supposedly being offered.

During the last part of 1972, I went to work getting forms and information to see how to get a charter service started (Air taxi, FAR (Federal Aviation Regulations) Part 135 operation). We had some of the papers in the mill when Smiley decided we should also be a Cessna dealer. Wow.

As the papers were working through the FAA, I flew Smiley to Wichita, Kansas, to Yingling Aircraft to see about getting a dealership set up. The second trip to Yingling was in the Aztec. Remember, the first flight was in the Cessna 182 with the pitot static instruments blown out. This time we were in the Aztec. The left engine-driven fuel pump failed on takeoff climb. I had learned before that you only turn off one boost pump at a time and make sure that the engine pump is working so you don’t lose both engines at the same time. The left engine stopped soon after I turned off the electric boost pump. I turned on the electric pump, and the engine restarted. I turned off the right electric pump, and the engine continued to run as it was supposed to.

The rest of the flight was good until we were flaring for the landing in Wichita, and the right propeller feathered on landing. I had to call for an airport tug to tow us to the ramp, as it is difficult to impossible to taxi with one engine.

God had intervened again when the left engine fuel pump failed, and the right engine propeller had a problem on the same flight. In this case, I could have lost both engines on the same flight but didn’t actually lose either except momentarily. Praise the Lord for a safe flight.

What could have happened?

On this flight, the left engine could have stalled because of fuel problems, and the right engine’s propeller could have feathered when it wasn’t supposed to, leaving us with two inoperative engines.

Smiley had a very good-looking financial statement made up that was convincing enough to fool some pretty sharp business people for a while. He purchased the 1966 C-310 at Carthage, Missouri, then traded for a 1964 Aztec, and then traded the Aztec and possibly more for a down payment on a Cessna dealership.

Jim Greer was the salesman that Smiley talked to about getting the dealership started and about our first airplanes. Smiley got the Cessna dealership, and we flew the new C-310Q home; the other airplanes were to be delivered by ferry pilots during the next two weeks.

New Cessna Dealer

We went home as a Cessna dealer, and Smiley had made a deal to take a new one that we flew down there. We still had the C-182.

Cessna 206

In the meantime, the FAA had passed most of the application details and was standing by for us to get our new airplanes and get an IA (Inspector Authorization) mechanic to be our director of maintenance. I don’t remember how long it was supposed to be until Yingling would have their pilots bring our four new Cessnas to us and pick up the Skylane, but it wasn’t long. I was so excited about getting to fly more new airplanes, see more of our country, and get paid for it as well.

I grew up in a family who stressed we should work hard for what we need, be honest in all things, and pay for what we get (I doubled on the being honest). When Sara and I got married, we were both as poor as dirt, but we didn’t know it and were as happy as could be. I suppose that this whole dealership thing was pretty overwhelming, and I was allowing my imagination to run wild about the great things that Smiley had promised. Seeing my name on my desk as “Chief Pilot and Director of Operations” for the air taxi Lake Flying Service was beyond my wildest dreams. I had heard the old saying that if it seems too good to be true, it probably is, but I wasn’t going to let common sense ruin the good feelings.

Smiley had gotten the air taxi certificate FAR Part 135 (Lake Flying Service) which required him to have a number of people to cover certain bases or jobs, including director of maintenance. Fred Radel had agreed to do that for Lake Flying Service. Because I was chief pilot and director of operations, I got much better acquainted with Fred during the year, as every airplane we had on air taxi had to have periodic inspections and maintenance. Lake Flying Service was also a dealer for Cessna airplanes.

I started advertising our charter service, flight training, aircraft sales, sightseeing flights, and other services. The business got off to a good start.

I was delivering parts to Dayton, Ohio, for Chrysler Corporation, as well as doing charter flights for passengers who wanted to be taken somewhere and dropped off. I started thinking about taking some of my students that I had been flying with in 1971 and 1972 on the drop-off flights so I would have company on the way home. I often took Slim with me.

Slim went with me on my night freight runs, and I let him fly left seat in whatever airplane we took. Some of the flights were in a Cessna 206, which is a single-engine, fixed-landing-gear airplane with six seats that we had to take out for some of the freight runs. Some flights were flown in a Cessna 310, which is a twin-engine airplane. Slim was a very good student in regard to learning quickly and being able to manage the airplane, navigate, and use the radio to communicate with air traffic control in most situations.

For some reason, he didn’t seem to have “mic fright.” So he learned how to fly in different conditions, from daytime in visual conditions to nighttime on instruments. For a student pilot to be able to do these things is pretty awesome. I didn’t realize until later that I had created a monster. Slim purchased a turbocharged Cessna 210, and I checked him out in it and signed his student license so he could legally fly it. This was an unusual situation to have a student pilot zipping around in an airplane capable of operating at flight levels.

Someone at the airport told me that Slim had been taking his musicians on trips in the 210 and was still operating on a student license. I met with Slim and told him that such activities would stop immediately, or I would personally call the FAA and report him. I recommended that he drop everything and get his pilot certificate.

In a few weeks, Slim got his pilot certificate and posted a note on the airport office wall with a photocopy of his certificate on it. After he got his private pilot certificate, he traded his Turbo 210 for a Turbo Pressurized 210 and continued some of his inappropriate flights. Allegedly on one such flight he took a load of his musicians to Aspen, Colorado, on a skiing trip using instruments without an instrument rating.

I drove past the show building during the last few years, and it had not been a country show for some time. Apparently he sold it to someone else.

I do have good memories of Slim. He was a caring person who was willing to help others when he could, and, as I have, he also made some serious mistakes.

CHAPTER 10

Flight to Oregon

Smiley’s son was a fishing guide in Oregon, and Smiley had decided we should use the new Cessna 310Q to make a trip to Oregon to visit his son. We enjoyed the long-range altitude capability and comfort of this new – and to me – well-equipped light twin. The flight was uneventful and interesting to a pilot who had never experienced such flying. It gave me an opportunity to experience pretty high altitudes, some over 12,500 feet, for a short time to get over mountains, to learn how to use fuel-flow computers and adjust mixtures for high altitudes. This aircraft was equipped with onboard oxygen if needed.

We landed at Columbia Gorge Regional/The Dalles Municipal Airport. While we were there, we went fishing in the Deschutes River. Sara caught a 7½-pound steelhead, which took her and our guide over a half hour to land. Later we ate the fish. While we were there, our guide gave us a short tour and some of the history of the two railroads that had competed for service in the area.

The Deschutes River Railroad War by Leon Speroff has some of the history of this event, but I have not read the book.

Our guide drove us around to see other sites in the area, including large herds of mule deer, which would let you drive up pretty close before running off. Even though we were only there for a few days, it was a fun and educational trip for me.

Flight from Pocatello, Idaho

On our way home from Oregon, I flew lower in order to see more of the surface points of interest – the canyons, lava beds, railroads, rivers, and conservation airstrips. We landed at Pocatello, Idaho, for fuel, to check the weather, and file a flight plan for home. It was evening by that time, and the weather looked bad ahead of us. Flight service told me that there was moderate icing in the clouds above 10,000 feet, but we could go south to a pass where we would only have to be in the icing a short time, then we could get below the icing level for the rest of our flight. I opted for that.

Our plane had a heated pitot tube and hot props to de-ice those parts. This was another new experience for me, which gave me a mixture of excitement in learning something new, and terror that I might learn something I didn’t want to. As it worked out, the hot props enabled us to keep our altitude through the pass and be able to let down to an altitude where the accumulated ice could melt off. This airplane had ice lights on it that would illuminate the leading edge of the wing so the pilot could get a good look at the ice. Educational? Yes. Could have had a bad outcome? Yes. Praise God for another interesting flight and a good outcome. To experience structural icing in the mountains at night was another first for me, interesting and educational to say the least.

What could have happened?

The icing conditions were reported for above 10,000 feet, warming to above freezing temperature below that, and our flight was to be in light icing conditions for about a half hour while we went through a pass. This flight was on instruments at night in icing conditions and was using the VOR navigation system. The VOR could have failed. I could have gotten off the desired course and hit a mountain. The icing conditions could have been heavier than forecasted, and we might not have come out of it when we were supposed to. A number of other things could have gone wrong.

Once again I praise God for His watch care and deliverance.

CHAPTER 11

Air Taxi Certification

We finally had the FAR 135 authorization/certificate and four new airplanes on the line, three of which were listed on our 135 certificate. Smiley came to me and told me we had to find ways to advertise the service to be able to keep the new airplanes and my wages coming (I thought he had the money). He didn’t waste any time in showing me his financial statement, don’t ya know.

I went to the local radio station and put an ad on there. Then I approached the local papers and posted ads. In a short time, we started getting calls for flights – some air taxi and some sightseeing and photo flights. We also advertised flight training as we had a new C-150 and C-172 that could do that. The new business started to move, but the payments did also.

Podunk Commuter Airline operated from the Lee C Fine Memorial Airport where we were based. Roland Tetley was their manager and, like myself, enjoyed telling aviation stories, so we hit it off right away. After a few days, I noticed Podunk overbooked flights when they could and often left bags behind, which resulted in some unhappy customers. At this time, it was just a conversation piece with me, but I went over to talk to Roland about the bags thing. He got around to asking if perhaps we would be willing to see what we could work out with Podunk and the FAA to let us carry the Podunk flag for the overbooked people and bags.

This seemed like another big WOW. We set up a meeting to talk to the directors of Podunk, Audrey Glore and Otto Wildforster, if my recollection is correct. The meeting went well, and Podunk thought it could save them some unfriendly conversations to have the luggage at least follow the airline flight. At times when they only had one or two passengers, we could take them and their luggage and it would cost the company less than sending their Beechcraft 18 or 99 for the flight.

Delivery of the New Cessna 206

I had been gone all day in the C-310, and when I landed at Lee C Fine Airport, our home base, I noticed a brand new C-206 sitting on the ramp and couldn’t wait to try it out. I called Sara and four of our other friends to load it up.

The weather was not good. A frontal system was in the area producing thunderstorms, wind, and heavy rain. Anyone with good sense would not try out a brand new airplane at night with a full load in weather that had the ducks seeking shelter. (I completely abandoned common sense.)

I filed an instrument flight plan to Springfield, Missouri, loaded up, and took off. Along the way, we went through some moderate turbulence and heavy rain. Everything seemed to be working well. I flew the ILS approach to SGF (identifier for Springfield, Missouri) and taxied to the ramp to tie down. The wind was strong enough that I was concerned we might lose this new airplane before we could get it tied down. While we were tying down, I noticed that all the paint was gone from the leading edges on the wings, wing struts, and tail section. My first thought was “Oh my.” Then I realized it was a lousy paint job, and Cessna would have to repaint it. (Cessna did repaint it with Imron paint.) We enjoyed our late-night stop at the restaurant at the Springfield, Missouri, airport. Our trip home was still challenging. I flew this airplane in so much bad weather during the next few months that even the Imron was getting worn down to the primer in places.

What could have happened?

The airplane could have had any number of malfunctions from mechanical to electrical or electronic. The weather could have been severe enough to have caused us to crash for a number of reasons, such as structural failure. I praise the Lord because our safety certainly was not due to my planning, skills, or good sense.

CHAPTER 12

Hazards of Weather

Static Charge

In the days of sailing ships, static electricity would build up in the masts and rigging and develop a blue glow that sailors called St. Elmo’s fire. Some pilots also call a similar thing on airplanes Elmo’s fire.

One of the charter calls I got was from a man who was to arrive by airline at Denver, Colorado, and needed to be picked up around midnight and brought back to Lake of the Ozarks. There was a squall line of thunderstorms on the Kansas/Colorado border that was causing a lot of damage from a number of cells. I contacted en route radar and found that there was spacing between the cells where it looked like I could pass through between them.

As I approached the frontal system, I throttled back to the aircraft’s maneuvering speed, and advised my passenger to tighten his seat belts and try to remain as calm as possible as we passed between the cells. We had no intention of flying into one of them. As we approached the frontal system, my passenger noticed that we were starting to pick up static electricity on the propellers, which was obvious because of blue sparks coming off the propeller tips.

My passenger was not talking, but I noticed that he was very interested in looking at the static electricity and noticing the bumps that we were encountering. As we got closer to the line of thunderstorms, the static electricity increased on the propellers. At one point, it appeared to be a continuous blue blaze, the full rotation of the propeller. The static electricity built up to where it appeared to be about three inches wide. Then it would arc off to the nose of the airplane like a lightning bolt.

When this happened, the passenger appeared concerned about what might happen next. To make it more interesting, on the nose of the airplane, the static electricity flattened out, slid up the windshield, and found its way to the trailing edge of the wings and the tail where it arced back off into the air from the static eliminator wicks on the airplane. Needless to say, my passenger was absolutely spellbound, but said nothing.

The flight went well, and we weren’t in any clouds at any time. We soon passed the front. The rest of the ride was smooth and clear all the way to Missouri. This turned out to be another time to praise the Lord because the weather had been very bad in the frontal area, ranging from the Canadian border to the Gulf of Mexico.

Snowstorm

On one of my late-night freight runs, I took my friend Paul Warman with me to Dayton, Ohio. It was snowing for much of this flight, and the airplane picked up some static charge from the snowflakes. As they hit the plastic windshield, it caused what appeared to be little blue worms crawling up the windshield. Paul, being a curious person, sat watching this phenomenon for a while. Then he was apparently going to ask me what it was, and he reached up to point out the blue worms. The static charge came through and struck Paul’s finger which caused him to jerk his hand back and think about that. Then he laughed and asked what it was. I explained that it was an electrical charge similar to what comes from a spark plug wire on a running engine. Paul was the kind of guy who would touch a spark plug wire on a running engine and reach out with the other hand to shake hands with someone.

Hail

Years ago radar operators would say they could see a different color in the radar returns that indicated whether or not a thunderstorm had hail associated with it.

I had a charter flight to take a fellow to Olathe, Kansas, late one night and bring him home later. I decided I would file an instrument flight plan to avoid some of the low-altitude weather that I had come up through on my way to Olathe. We had a number of thunderstorm cells en route to Lake of the Ozarks. I contacted departure control radar and asked if there appeared to be any hail in the cells in front of me. The radar controller told me that there didn’t appear to be hail, so I chose to fly through it.

I did the things I was taught. I tightened my seat belts, moved my seat back away from the instrument panel, turned the panel lights up to full bright, and put on my Ray-Ban sunglasses so I could see the instrument panel after the lightning flashes. I throttled back to get the airspeed down to maneuvering speed. As I entered the cell, the rain was torrential, and I heard hail hitting the airplane so intensely at one point that I thought it was going to come through the windshield. I got down behind the instrument panel just in case it did. The leading edges on this new twin Cessna acquired many small dents, but the windshield held. When I stop and think about it now, I don’t believe being behind the instrument panel would have made any difference had the windshield come out. I believe the airplane would have gone down. The rest of the flight was uneventful. I praise God for a flight that could have ended my career and life, but didn’t.

What could have happened?

The hail or the severe turbulence could have damaged the airplane to the point that flight would not have been possible. The windshield could have been taken out and made flight impossible. This is another instance where I should have chosen a different plan, but praise God, He kept me safe.

The above reminded me of another old saying: Just remember, if you crash because of weather, your funeral will be held on a sunny day.

CHAPTER 13

Diversions, Distractions, and Duties

Tourist-Class Passenger

During the summer of 1973, a group of doctors had a conference or convention, and Podunk Airlines was transporting many of them. Lake Flying Service was getting a number of loads of passengers from the scheduled commuter airline flights. One of these flights included three male doctors and one female who did a lot of complaining: “I hated the convention”; “I hate Lake of the Ozarks”; “I hate the weather”; and “I hate small planes.” You get the idea.

The male doctors didn’t say much. The weather was pretty low, around 500 feet, scattered to broken, and overcast at 2,500 with the tops around 4,000. I was on an instrument flight plan with a void time. We managed to get the four passengers and as much luggage as we could carry into the plane and had taken off. I was talking to ARTCC (Air Route Traffic Control Centers) and confirming my clearance to Rolla/Vichy and to maintain 5,000. We used runway 21 for takeoff and made a left climbing turn to the east toward Vichy. My female passenger was still making comments when we broke out momentarily over the small town of Brumley, and she asked what the name of the town was.

By this time, my patience had grown thin, and my workload was still high. I told her that was a first-class question, and she was on a tourist-class ticket, which got a slurred remark from her and some giggles from the male doctors. The rest of the flight was peaceful and uneventful.

Aerobatics

As the days went by, I let things pile up on me to the point that I had to get away and get some of it off my mind for a little while. I enjoyed teaching and flying aerobatics while I had a Citabria available in Illinois. One day I was operating in the mental overload mode (stressed out) and decided to take a ride in the 310. I took off, climbed to around 5,000 feet, leveled off, trimmed out, and relaxed a bit.

Then it hit me – to have some fun in the 310. I lowered the nose slightly, and the speed started increasing very quickly. I realized that with a sleek airplane with 520 horsepower on board, it would do a nice loop. I eased back on the yoke and loaded up to what felt like 2 g’s, and the airplane was soon inverted with plenty of airspeed to make a pretty round loop. The loop went very well and I was feeling a lot better.

Then I decided to do a barrel roll, which I did. I am pretty sure I would have spilled the tea. (Bob Hoover made a video where he did a barrel roll in a Shrike Aero Commander twin-engine airplane while pouring a glass of tea without spilling it. You can see it at http://youtu.be/pMWxuKcD6vE) Otherwise, my roll went very well with no negative g’s at all.

I went on and did an Immelmann, Split S, Cuban 8, and other maneuvers with little effort and few g’s. Overall I felt much better and was amazed at how well the 310 did all these maneuvers. Jim Greer, the salesman who sold us the 310, was a test pilot for Cessna who tested the 310 for certification. I had asked him what all they did during the flight tests, and he said they put the airplanes through almost anything you can imagine, including everything I did on my joyride.

A few years later, there was an air show team known as the 310s who did formation aerobatics with a pair of the early 310s. I think they may have been the 1955 model. I did a few more tension relief flights in other aircraft. Note: The 310 is not certificated for acrobatic maneuvers. I did not put much pressure on the airframe at any time, did not go any lower than 3,000 feet, and stayed over sparsely or unpopulated areas. All these maneuvers I had taught a few years before this and don’t believe I endangered myself or anyone else.

Jim Greer had told me that he had a friend who was a test pilot for Boeing who was the one who took the first 707 to New York. The tower asked him to show off the airplane for the tower crew, where the pilot did a slow roll on the flyby for the tower. I found the video of that on the Internet a few years ago.

I never did enjoy either watching or doing snap or other high-G maneuvers. Most of my favorite air show pilots did smooth maneuvers that were more of an aerial ballet with little stress on the airframe or its occupants. My favorites were Bob Hoover, the North American team, and Harold Krier, just to name a few.

Change of Pace

I designed a four-wheel-drive, skid-steer buggy in the mid-1960s and showed the idea to a businessman who then invented the six-wheelers that float. I didn’t have any money or brains. I still wonder what would have happened if I had patented the idea myself. The trade names on some of the early ones were Terra Tiger, Amphicat, Scrambler, and several others. During 1973, I invented a four-wheel-drive conversion kit for a Cub Cadet tractor. The pictures below are of my father’s Cub Cadet with my four-wheel-drive conversion on it. The Cub Cadet in this picture utilizes the skid-steer principal.

I have also added a machine that a friend of mine called the Moon Crawler. I built this vehicle during 1965. It utilized the skid-steer principal and had a low enough center of gravity that it could operate safely forward, backward, and across, or turn around on slopes in excess of 45 degrees. I had a McCulloch 6.1 cubic-inch engine with a Dyna Drive gearbox that I used for power on this vehicle. This tiny engine developed quite a lot of power for its size and handled the weight of the vehicle very well, but was a high-strung racing engine and not easily managed by someone not used to operating such an engine. Later I changed to a Briggs & Stratton engine with a lawn mower transmission which gave it three speeds forward and a reverse. If you take a close look at the engine, you can see two large Tillotson carburetors sitting on top of it.

0/0 approach

I needed to go to MKC (Kansas City, Missouri, downtown airport) to Kings Avionics Shop to get the IFR (instrument flight rules) equipment recertified; this test has to be redone every other year to be current. The test refers to instruments and equipment required to fly on instruments. On this flight, the airplane was legally current. I checked the weather for MKC and found that the weather was very low, as in 0/0 (the clouds were on the ground 0 and the visibility was 0), but the forecast was to be improved to ILS minimums (ceiling 200 feet and visibility of a half mile) by the time of arrival. I filed my flight plan and took off. The 206 was full of fuel, and the sunshine was forecast to be at 5,000 feet that morning, so I filed for 6,000 feet.

The flight was a beautiful flight with no turbulence at all after I topped the clouds. It is always fun to get to look down on God’s handiwork, and that morning was peaceful and beautiful. In what seemed like a very short time, ARTCC was handing me off to Kansas City approach control, and approach told me that the weather at MKC was still 0/0, but still expected to improve in the next half hour to 200, and a half mile. The forecast weather is the ILS minimums.

Approach control went on to ask what my intentions were. My response was to put me on a holding fix that would be out of the way, and I would practice flying racetracks (holding patterns). In a situation like this, control will come back as soon as the weather has improved to approach minimums or typically in a half hour with an update.

I was holding on the terminal VOR on the Olathe, Johnson County Airport at 6,000 for two hours. The weather report at that time showed that the weather had improved to 0 and 1/16th and once again I was asked what my intentions were. My response this time was that I may as well practice missed approaches and requested the ILS approach to runway 17 to MKC. I was cleared for the approach.

Note for my non-pilot readers: If the flight is not for hire, you can fly the approach even if the weather is below minimums. This flight was under FAR Part 91, which gives the rules for “not for hire.” I was given vectors to Final Approach Course for the approach and cleared. I intercepted the glide slope and started down, reported the outer marker, which is a radio fix that is approximately five miles out. The tower reported that the weather had gone back to 0/0 (this approach had three markers signal in it).

When I was about two miles out and crossing the airway marker in this approach, I saw the river below me and looked ahead and saw the green threshold lights, the hash marks (white stripes indicating an instrument runway) on the end of the runway, and the first runway light on both sides of the runway. I called: Field in sight. The tower responded: Cleared to land.

This was a very unusual situation. I slowed the airplane down to 60 knots, deployed 40 degrees of flaps, and touched down on the hash marks, closed the throttle, and locked in on the heading indicator (gyroscopically stabilized instrument) to make sure I held runway heading while slowing down because the visibility at this point was still 0. After getting stopped in the center of the runway, I could see the centerline stripes but could not see either side of the runway. I called the tower and reported down and stopped and wanted taxi clearance to Meisinger Beechcraft for parking.

Tower responded: You are on your own, as we can’t see you. By going very slowly and knowing the airport, I reached the edge of the runway and found where the taxiway to the ramp joined the runway. I made my way to a parking spot and shut down. I had to wait for the visibility to improve before I could taxi to the radio shop on the other side of the airport.

What could have happened?

There could have been equipment on the runway. I could have failed to hold my heading on the rollout and put the airplane in a ditch or culvert between the runway and the taxiway.

He will not let your foot slip – he who watches over you will not slumber (Psalm 121:3).

High Altitude

I had a flight to Kansas City, Missouri. After unloading my passengers, I headed for my home airport. It was a beautiful clear day with little traffic, so I decided that I would like to see how high a 310 could go. I had oxygen on board and made up my mind that if I felt like I needed it, I would get it.

I set up a cruise climb at 75 percent (Note: 75 percent is only available to around 7,500 feet) and 140 miles per hour. As the altitude increased, I lowered the indicated airspeed to keep the climb rate up. I went to 25,000. The climb was pretty slow but still going up. This 310 had sea level engines on it; a few 310s have turbochargers on them. That was the highest I had ever been, and it was a beautiful view from that altitude.

CHAPTER 14

Teaching and Learning

Mike

A Vietnam veteran who flew the large twin-rotor helicopters (Chinooks, I think) also had his fixed-wing rating for single-engine land. We hired Mike to fly air taxi for us. I went to work training Mike to fly the 206 for VFR (Visual Flight Rules) and IFR (Instrument Flight Rules) air taxi with passengers. It seemed that all was going well. Mike was a good student, had a high level of mental discipline, and took orders well. I knew that Mike would be taking his flight check with the FAA in Kansas City, so I flew with him up there and did several different types of approaches that he might have to do to pass his flight checks.

Mike passed the VFR, but failed the instrument phase on the ILS approach. Mike told me when he got home that he had been pretty loaded up with things during the flight check and had mentally reverted to helicopter mode. When it came time to do the ILS, he was going to hover at the outer marker, then descend the glide slope, but the C-206 wouldn’t hover.

The way you are first taught a procedure is the way you will react in an emergency or other stressful condition (such as during a flight check with an FAA inspector). It’s important to learn it right the first time.

Mike was a very good pilot, but he was taught to fly the helicopter, and the transition to fixed-wing was pretty tough for him. This occurred in 1973.

After more review time, Mike was scheduled to retake his flight test, and he passed it. Mike flew a few trips for us with no problems, but soon found a better job and moved on.

This situation relates to what we have been doing since 1996 in missionary pilot training. Most of the pilots who come to us have been taught many wrong procedures and much of my time is spent training away from the wrong procedures and replacing with the correct procedures. However, after reading accident reports, I realize that the wrong procedures have a way of presenting themselves when real emergencies occur, and they add to statistics. I see a need to train the pilots from hour-one up to mountain and jungle pilot standards at the same flight school or at least to the same standard with no compromise in the quality of flight training.

One day when Mike and I were coming home from Kansas City in the 206, high altitudes came into the discussion. We both wondered how high a 206 without much weight would go on a cool day. Mike was flying left seat, and he wanted to climb for a while. I didn’t offer any objections. We agreed to ask each other questions to recognize if either of us detected any decreased ability to function or think. The 206 did climb to 25,000 feet that day. The climb rate was slow, and even though we didn’t notice that either of us was impaired in any way, we started letting down for our arrival at Lee C Fine Airport. This 206 was not turbocharged.

What could have happened?

Both of us could have passed out and the airplane crashed. We could have been hit by a high-flying aircraft. Once again, foolishness reigned on my part.

Seaplane Driver

I had three hours’ seaplane time – one and a half of instruction and one and a half for the practical test. Another time to praise the Lord.

There were two floatplane operators at the docks by Bagnell Dam. One was owned and operated by the owner of Lock Wood Dock and the excursion boat Larry Don (I don’t remember his name). The pilot of the other was Lee Swartz. Lee was a bush pilot from Alaska, but not an instructor. The other pilot was an instructor, but hadn’t done any floatplane instruction. Lee taught me to do all the necessary float operations, and the other pilot rode with me and signed me off for the check ride. Flying the airplane was quite familiar to me, but the water taxiing, sailing, and docking was a whole new world.

I wanted to add seaplane to my pilot certificate in 1973. I heard that the FAA was coming to inspect the floatplane operations at the lake, and I could possibly get the inspector to give me a practical test in a floatplane. Les Melton was the FAA inspector doing this inspection.

After the test, I noticed that Les didn’t seem as happy as usual. I saw him filling out a temporary pilot certificate, so I knew that I hadn’t failed the check ride. I asked him if something was bothering him, like perhaps I had given him a marginal check ride. He responded, “No, it’s just that airplane.”

That caused me to wonder. What could be wrong with that airplane? It had seven hours on it and a new set of floats. So what could be wrong with it? I asked Les what was wrong with the airplane.

He responded that if it was a Piper Cub with a float half full of water and I could get it into the air, I would be a floatplane pilot. I got the message. Les had done a number of air taxi six-month flight checks for me. Les also came to the Lee C Fine Airport to observe me picking up, towing, and letting down a banner. He even issued me a waiver to tow banners.

A bit of wisdom: “A commercial pilot certificate does not a sailor make.”

Still Learning

With all this going on, I had learned a few things. My brother Bryon was hired part time to wash airplanes. One day his friend Rick, from the drive-through zoo on Y Road, was there washing the 182. I came in from a flight to Kansas City after flying around a strong thunderstorm on the west side of the lake.

When I got there, Bryon and Rick were finishing up the 182, and I offered to let Bryon fly a short lesson in it. He headed right toward the storm with me telling him to turn away from it. I let him go, to teach him a lesson and to learn one myself. Soon after Bryon flew us into the storm, we started experiencing extreme updrafts and heavy rain. It was impossible to hold heading or altitude. To make it more interesting, the rain was so heavy that the engine lost considerable power, perhaps half of its rated power.

At this point, Bryon became aware that he should have listened to me and he asked me what to do. I told him to keep the wings and pitch as near level as possible and turn on the alternate air to restore power. He then asked what the alternate air was. I responded that on this airplane, it is the carburetor heat that gets its air from within the cowling, which would not have all that water going with it.

Bryon was struggling with getting the level attitude, so I turned on the alternate air, which partially restored the power. By then Bryon was getting the more or less level attitude established, and I instructed him to lean the mixture to get best power with the high heat and moisture, then turn the airplane 180 degrees and get out of the storm. With some assistance from the right seat (me), he managed to get turned and out of the storm.

Bryon’s friend Rick hadn’t made a sound through all this. Or if he did, I didn’t hear him. But when I looked back at Rick, he had a look of relief on his face, so I am pretty sure he didn’t exactly enjoy the ride in the storm. By this time, Bryon had all the flight lesson he wanted and headed back to the airport.

The storm was still west of the airport, so we hurried to tie the plane down. There was a speaker on the ramp that was hooked to a radio in the office and tuned to the local radio station. The radio was reporting that a tornado had hit the Sunrise Beach area and had torn up several boat docks, boats, and buildings, and was headed toward Osage Beach, a short distance northwest of where we were. In a few minutes, we got some heavy rain and wind but no tornado. This flight cured Bryon of ever flying close to another thunderstorm and was a lesson for me as well.

What could have happened?

We could have gotten into some severe air currents and ripped the wings off the airplane. There could have been large hail in the storm. We could have become disoriented and made wrong control inputs and broken the airplane ourselves. Keep in mind that Bryon was just a student pilot who had only basic instrument training, and I was letting him do as much of the flying as possible to learn that he should not have flown into a thunderstorm. The bottom line is God did spare a foolish pilot and his passengers one more time.

The LORD will keep you from all harm – he will watch over your life (Psalm 121:7).

Along the Way

I had a number of reasons to quit Lake Flying Service, but couldn’t bring myself to turn in my time. One of the warning signs that helped me make up my mind to get out was that Smiley had me fly him to Oklahoma several times to show real estate property to different buyers. I flew him to show the same piece of property three times in a week, and he took a down payment each time. I had been hearing about the land scams in Oklahoma, but now it was starting to register. A short time later, I quit Lake Flying Service.

Another nugget of wisdom: If you’re faced with a forced landing, fly the thing as far into the crash as possible.

This is good advice at times for sure, but in my case, I should have bailed out a lot sooner. Always keep an “out” in your hip pocket.

CHAPTER 15

Transport and Delivery

Hauling Fish

Jim Kahrs (I am not sure I have the last name right), the owner of Osage Catfish Farm, would occasionally ship a load of fingerling catfish (about one-inch long) to New Orleans to be put on an airliner to Honduras. This became another lesson for me. The fish were in boxes that measured about a foot and a half in all directions. In the box was a plastic bag about half full of water. The other half was air. The bag was twisted and taped to keep it from leaking, then taped shut.

I loaded as many boxes as I could get in the 206. I had all the seats removed except the one I needed, and had it pushed as far forward as it would go with the back erect. I had my Stanley bottle on the floor next to the seat. Needless to say, it was difficult to get in the plane with my charts and my personal 130 pounds.

For the first load, the weather was pretty good, but part of it was to be on instruments, so I filed an instrument flight plan at 8,000 feet and took off for New Orleans. It would have been around 8:00 p.m., and the weather at Lee C Fine Airport was clear. The 206 was climbing very well. I had contacted ARTCC and told them my time off and that I was climbing to 8,000. They gave the usual report level at 8,000, which I acknowledged with “all in order.”

I decided it was time to have coffee. It didn’t register right away, but I had a much more difficult time trying to reach my Stanley bottle than when I put it on the floor. While I was on the ramp, I got the bottle and was pouring a cup when I thought I heard something pop behind me. It had been a long day, and I was going to enjoy the sound of the 300 horsepower engine and drink my coffee.

In a few seconds, I heard that sound again. No doubt this time; the tapes on the boxes were popping. This disrupted my peaceful airplane ride and my coffee, don’t ya know. I immediately pushed the nose down to stop the climb and lose some altitude. I was a couple hundred feet above 4,000. I called ARTCC and told them to make my cruising altitude 4,000, which they did. I was the only traffic in the area so it was no problem getting the amended clearance.

I kept thinking that I might have several thousand casualties on this flight. I had been told that there were a thousand catfish in each box. I had about twenty boxes on board. This could look really bad for me. As soon as possible after I parked next to the Honduras airways DC-6 airliner, I opened the doors on my plane, expecting to see water and dead fish all over. Praise the Lord, there was nothing but a few boxes that the tape had popped on, and no bags were broken. The next several flights I filed for 4,000 and didn’t break any of the water bags. The trips home in an empty airplane were uneventful and usually in beautiful clear skies.

From this experience with expansion of sealed containers, I learned what to expect when I fly passengers on long flights where we fly high and have food and drinks with us.

Hauling Parts

Sometimes when I returned from New Orleans on a catfish run, a truck from Dawson Metal Products at Camdenton would be waiting at the gate at AIZ (code for Lee C Fine Airport) with a load of boxes to go to Dayton, Ohio. Most of these flights were under VFR, but I usually filed an IFR flight plan, so I would have somebody along to help me stay awake. It was normally around 0100 hours when I got back from New Orleans, and then I’d take a few minutes to refuel the 206 and load it with the parts for Chrysler. If the weather was good, I would take off and get my weather briefing and file my flight plan in the air on the way to Dayton. I always had someone to meet me at the airport, so I could make a pretty quick turnaround, get refueled, and head home. The 206 had a good autopilot that was coupled to the navigation radios, so it could do most of the en route altitude and navigation on its own, which gave me a chance to take a short nap now and then (bad idea).

However, one trip cured me of flying when too tired.

Took a Nap

One of my flights to Dayton was on a snowy and cold winter night so I went both ways on instrument. I hadn’t had much sleep for about three days and nights; needless to say, I was way over on duty time and was not a safe pilot under this condition. I filed for 8,000 and climbed up in the moderate snow to my cruising altitude. I had not noticed any ice sticking to the plane, so I wasn’t concerned about that. It had been my experience that when the outside temperature was below -12°C, the precipitation doesn’t stick. In this case, the weather briefing hadn’t mentioned any icing conditions. I leveled at 8,000, reported to Indy Center that I was level at 8,000, and switched to the full fuel tank as center acknowledged and gave me a reporting point that was a half hour ahead. I set the autopilot (Herbie, to me) and was so tired I decided to close my eyes for a couple of minutes. I set my radio to center frequency and turned it up loud. I set my number-two radio to 121.5 Mc emergency frequency and loud as well. I went to sleep.

I was awakened by St. Louis Approach Control Radar Operator calling, “64 Golf, do you hear St. Louis?”

I thought I must be dreaming. That couldn’t be St. Louis; I am in Ohio. In a short time while I was checking my radios and my time, I heard it again on my emergency radio. It was St. Louis. I had had a two-hour nap. St. Louis asked me if I was okay. I responded that I just had my radio squelched too much and hadn’t been hearing anyone. They told me that controllers had been trying to contact me as I crossed part of Ohio, all of Indiana, and Illinois. I sheepishly apologized, switched fuel tanks and radio frequencies, and thanked God for His watchful care.

The autopilot on that airplane would track a radio signal until the signal ran out and default to the heading bug on the heading indicator. Even though the radio signal had been gone for at least two hundred miles, the plane was right on course. The fuel tank I was running on, according to time, had already run out, but the engine was still developing power.

What could have happened?

The weather could have changed to icing conditions. The engine could have developed a problem. The autopilot could have malfunctioned and lost heading or altitude control. There could have been a traffic conflict. I could have run out of fuel while I was asleep, and the fuel system could have gotten an airlock in it that I may not have been able to correct. There really isn’t any place to quit on this one. I can only praise the Lord for sparing a foolish pilot one more time.

What did I learn from this? There is a reason for duty time limitations, and don’t fly if you are too tired.

My son, keep your father’s command and do not forsake your mother’s teaching. Bind them always on your heart; fasten them around your neck. When you walk, they will guide you; when you sleep, they will watch over you; when you awake, they will speak to you (Proverbs 6:20-22).

As you see above, I was flying cargo by night. During the day, I was flying the scheduled flights for Podunk Airlines and doing some flight training and air taxi flights. As a result, I was way over on my duty time. This is one of the many times that I completely abandoned common sense. Because of flying day and night, I seldom saw my family. And needless to say, I did not log much of my flight time.

I was hoping to have a good-paying job in aviation, so I was willing to do about anything to help the company stay in business and get a decent wage.

For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil. Some people, eager for money, have wandered from the faith and pierced themselves with many griefs (1 Timothy 6:10).

At this point, I still wasn’t aware that my focus was all wrong, that I was doing my family wrong, and I was putting myself at risk for many griefs.

Simple Lesson of the Hair Blower

Roland Tetley was the airport manager for Podunk. He was also a pilot and kept my airplanes fueled and loaded and the flight plans filed for me. I did most of the scheduled airline flights either in the 206 or the 310. Roland always had the one that was there loaded and serviced when I got in so all I had to do was change planes and take off again.

The temperature was near 0°F, and I got a call for an emergency flight. I don’t remember the reason, but a lady and her husband needed to get somewhere right away.

The 206 would fire and start, but before I could get the fuel boost pump to kick in, the engine would stop. I commented that the engine would probably need a preheat to get it going. This lady promptly asked if I thought her hair dryer might make a difference. I responded that it might, and I got a cord to hook it up. I placed the hair dryer inside the lower part of the engine cowling for about ten minutes, then tried to start the engine. It started, and we were soon getting ready for our takeoff. I have learned a lot of simple lessons like this one. Sometimes it doesn’t take much to make the flight go; neither does it take something large and noticeable to cause a flight to end prematurely with a bad outcome. Learn from others when you can and leave no known details out of your flight planning.

for giving prudence to those who are simple, knowledge and discretion to the young – let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance (Proverbs 1:4-5).

CHAPTER 16

Missionary Contacts

First CFI (Certificated Flight Instructor) Renewal Seminar

As far as I know, 1973 was the first year for the flight instructor renewal seminars; I went to the college at Warrensburg for my first CFI renewal seminar. The seminar was to be three days of eight hours a day. All the speakers were from the FAA Academy team in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, and each one would tell a story, much like a preacher does to get the attention of the audience, and then get into the subject matter that he was assigned to talk about.

During the afternoon of the third day, one of the FAA speakers stood up and asked for a show of hands as to who believed a normal takeoff is a maximum performance maneuver. Most of the flight instructors put their hands up. Not me. Then he asked how many thought of a normal landing as being a maximum performance maneuver, and several held up their hands on this one. Not me. I decided I was going to be still and learn something.

Then the speaker told a story about a very short and steep airstrip in the mountains in the Philippines where the pilot had to have the exact speed while flying up a dead-end canyon. Then at just the right moment, he had to put the plane in a steep bank toward the opposite canyon wall and turn to the strip on the canyon wall, opening the throttle wide and planting the plane on the strip. At just the right time, the pilot had to cut the power and get on the brakes. This landing would in fact be a maximum performance maneuver, but certainly not a normal landing. The seminar went well, and all that attended the twenty-four hours got their CFI renewal. I heard many neat stories and learned new things that were now in the aviation community that I didn’t know.

Note: It only takes two things to fly – airspeed and money.

Missionary Pilot for New Tribes Mission (NTM) in the Philippines

Lee German was the pilot who made and had been using the strip that impressed the FAA at the CFI seminar.

About two weeks after the CFI renewal seminar, I was at the Grand Glaize Airport drinking coffee and talking to a couple of men who were there with me. The clouds were low, and the wind was blowing hard from the southeast – probably in the 20- to 30-knot range. At Grand Glaize Airport, our runways are oriented 14 and 32 or northwest and southeast. I was standing by the north window in the office and looking to the northwest. I occasionally looked at Smiley’s Cessna 150 that was tied down just outside this window; the airplane was actually pulling at the tie-down ropes rather hard in this wind. In a little while, I saw a tiny speck to the northwest and wondered who would be flying on such a cloudy and windy day.

As I watched, the speck was getting larger so I knew it was coming our way. As it approached, I could see it was a Cessna 180. The Cessna 180 is a four-place, tailwheel airplane that is commonly used in bush operations. Our runway 14 from the threshold to the taxiway turnoff was about a hundred yards. The wind was from the southeast and favoring runway 14. The 180 landed near the threshold on the main wheels. The tail settled to the ground, and the plane turned in to our ramp with no problem at all.

At this point, I knew this was no ordinary pilot that could do this under such difficult conditions. The pilot deplaned, chocked the airplane, straightened his tie, and walked toward the office. It was obvious he was no ordinary airport bum/airplane driver. When he came in, I introduced myself and offered him a coffee.

He introduced himself as Lee German. I asked him if he was just passing through or if he was going to be in the area for a while. He responded that he was a missionary pilot on furlough from the Philippines and had come to speak at the New Tribes Mission language school at Macks Creek.

I was about to pop my buttons at this point as I wondered if this was the pilot that the FAA had talked about at the CFI seminar. I asked him about a very short strip in a canyon in the Philippines, and he smiled and said that he, the New Tribes translator/missionary, and the tribal people had put it in. He had to do an extended term in the field because he couldn’t find a pilot that could use that strip until now so that he could come home on furlough. Wow, did I have questions! Lee answered some of my questions, but all too soon a car came to pick him up, and I never saw him again.

This was the first time I felt like I would like to be a missionary pilot, but at this point it was probably just because of the excitement of flying in such difficult conditions. I believe I received a divine call to organize a missionary pilot training organization during the fall of 1978.

In 1998, I met Martin Burnham, another missionary pilot from the Philippines who may have been flying the routes that Lee German did. (More on this in Book 3.)

Attitude

Speedy Moffitt, Paul Bennett, and several friends came for a visit at the Lake of the Ozarks. Speedy and Paul brought their boats with them so we could boat ride and water ski. This was quite a treat for Sara, me, and our kids. We all had a great time.

On one of the days, I had a worse-than-usual day at work coupled with a bad attitude. When I got to the lake where they were, I don’t remember what my problem was, but I made sure it showed. (God forgive me.) God has helped me a lot in this area over the years. Praise Him.

Speedy and Paul both suggested it would be good for me to ski for a while to get it out of my system. At first, I wasn’t going to have any part of it and refused. They kept on urging me to ski and said it would make me feel better. I finally agreed that I would ski but refused to change into my swim trunks. I put on a life jacket and a set of skis, sat on the edge of the dock, and took the towrope in hand. I asked Speedy to slowly drive his boat to the end of the rope, then put it in neutral, let me pull it back about six feet, and when I gave him the signal to go, he should open it up. With all those details in place, I made my first ever from-the-dock launch on water skis. I already felt better; I didn’t think I could do it. As I am writing this, I believe it was God pampering me to make me feel better.

Speedy went fast, then slow, did a lot of turns, took me over waves, and kept quite a distance from the shore and boat launch ramp. I know he was hoping to wear me down to where I would fall and get good and wet. After quite a while, he was passing the boat launch ramp, and I was very tired. I swung to the far side of the boat, then made a swing across behind the boat to pick up as much speed as I could, and then let go of the rope. I skied up close to the edge of the water to the launch ramp and settled to the bottom in about a foot of water. This got cheers from the crowd and made me feel much better. Even after all this, my pants were wet only to the knees.

CHAPTER 17

Kansas City on Ice

I don’t remember why we went to Kansas City, Missouri, but my friend Slim and I went there. The ceiling was pretty low around 500 feet. The tops of the clouds were supposed to be at 7,000, and the weather briefing confirmed that there would be light-to-moderate icing in the clouds. The aircraft we were taking was our nearly new Cessna 206 that was well-equipped for the day. I filed for 8,000 to be above the clouds and had planned an expedited climb to 8,000. With two guys who weighed in at around 140 pounds each and a strong engine, the 206 would not take long getting to 8,000.

We were in an area where I had to get my clearance on the phone because there was no radio contact available to call center. In a situation like that, the pilot had to make a phone call, get his weather briefing, file his flight plan, and get his clearance with a void time all on the phone. After takeoff and reaching 2,500 feet of altitude, I would contact Kansas City center and advise them I was climbing to my assigned altitude, in this case 8,000, and en route to Kansas City Downtown Airport.

Note: The void time is intended to give the pilot time to get in the air and call ARTCC on the radio. If this is not accomplished by the void time, the flight clearance is voided and cancelled. I teach my students to have their preflight inspection done and the airplane loaded and warmed up before calling for clearance. Then I tell them to get on the phone to flight service/clearance delivery, and request clearance with a void time long enough to get in the air, climb, and make radio contact with the controlling agency. The FAA probably doesn’t know particular situations and would give too short of a void time. Never be in a hurry to get in the air.

I did as outlined above. The controller acknowledged the destination, but advised me to climb to and maintain 6,000 due to traffic. In my mind, I saw a caution flag right there as it was off-season at Lake of the Ozarks, and I hadn’t heard any other low-altitude air traffic in the area all day. I acknowledged the 6,000 and added that I needed higher ASAP as the ice was building up on our aircraft. He agreed that as soon as he could, he would give me higher.

After a few minutes, Slim and I were aware that there was no other conversation on the radio. The ice was building rather quickly, and there was sunshine a thousand feet above us. I called center and asked for 8,000. He promptly told me, “Unable due to traffic.” I already had the heated pitot turned on, which is the only de-ice equipment this airplane had on it. I had learned from experience to keep the prop rpm (propeller revolutions per minute) as fast as is practical when flying in icing conditions to minimize the buildup on the prop.

The type of ice we were getting was a combination of clear and rime, which is referred to as mixed icing, and can form in shapes other than the shape of the object it is forming on. As a result, our leading edges started to look flat, as if there were boards placed vertically on them. This caused an extreme amount of drag.

I waited about ten minutes and noticed that our airspeed was off by ten knots. This required a report to reduce our flight planned speed by ten, but I could still climb and needed to right away. The response was as before. By this time, we were approximately halfway to Kansas City.

I waited another five minutes and reported that they needed to scratch another ten knots. I had been thinking about turning back to Lee C Fine Airport, but kept expecting to get a clearance to climb. So I kept going. I also considered that if we didn’t make it to the airport on one end or the other, there were more fields in the Kansas City area than we had at the Lake of the Ozarks, and we were no longer able to climb.

In a few minutes, I called center and notified them that we were no longer at 6,000 because of icing and asked if there was an altitude where the temperature was above freezing below us. The answer was no. I still had not heard any other radio traffic on this frequency that was anywhere near us. This controller was working traffic in the Kansas City area as well, and I started to hear them there, and was trying to figure how far we were going to be able to make it at our present airspeed and altitude loss rate. It looked like we might actually make it to the downtown airport – with emphasis on “might.”

I checked the weather at MKC (identifier for Kansas City Downtown Airport). The weather was 500 feet, overcast, one-mile visibility, with light freezing rain and fog. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. I was calculating my sink rate and trying to decide if we were going to make the airport. I had been running the engine at 2,700 rpm, wide-open throttle (maximum continuous power setting for this engine), and cycling the prop from high rpm to low rpm and then back to high, hoping to cause the prop to shed some of its ice.

One time it didn’t shed all three blades at the same time, and we had a serious vibration. This made me wonder if we might shake the engine right off the plane. If that happened, it would be a short ride to the ground below and we would be completely out of control. Center had now advised me that we should contact Kansas City Approach Control.

I called Approach and told them that I had a heavy load of ice and asked for priority handling and they agreed. They gave us number-one spot for landing and advised that we were still five miles east of the airport and to expect the ILS approach to runway 19, which is a precision approach, and the weather was pretty low. I knew from experience that we would have to fly about eight miles north of the airport to intercept the localizer and glide slope for the approach. Our sink rate would not allow that, so I quickly declined the ILS to runway 19 and asked for the almost straight-in VOR 21 approach.

By this time, we were low enough that we were occasionally seeing the ground through holes in the bottom of the clouds. The fields were plowed and very muddy, and I was still calculating our rate of sink relative to our forward speed and coming up short of the airport. Our airspeed was down to 80 knots, our engine temperatures were redlined, and we were not going to make the airport.

Decision time! Should I take our chances and land in one of those muddy fields and for sure total the plane? Or should I push the rpm up the redline of 2,850 on the engine to see if we could hold altitude long enough to clear the wires on the approach end of runway 21 – at the risk of the engine locking up and causing us to crash into the wires, buildings, and traffic before we got to the runway? I chose to redline the tachometer and commit the rest to God’s hands as I had run totally out of ideas, altitude, and airspeed.

With God’s blessing, we barely cleared the obstructions and were near the runway. I deployed the flaps, and the airplane thumped to the runway surface with the engine still pulling all it could. There was no flaring for the landing, but we didn’t bend anything. Praise the Lord. Needless to say, we decided to get a room for the night.

If I had been thinking about this as I should have, I would have found out who was working that sector at that time and reported him. I believe that he was deliberately trying to kill us. Ultimately, the responsibility was still on me. (See FAR 91.3.)

What could have happened?

We could have iced up so much that we would have gone down in the hills and timber near the Lake of the Ozarks where the probability of surviving the crash would have been very low. Or I could have chosen the muddy fields near Kansas City with a pretty good chance of surviving the landing, but would probably have totaled a very nice airplane. Or the engine could have locked up at a critical time causing us to crash in the objects mentioned above – with little hope of surviving. With God’s grace, we were safe, and the airplane was not damaged.

~~~

I learned that if you are the pilot in command, then take command per FAR Section 91.3: Responsibility and authority of the pilot in command.

(a) The pilot in command of an aircraft is directly responsible for, and is the final authority as to, the operation of that aircraft.

(b) In an in-flight emergency requiring immediate action, the pilot in command may deviate from any rule of this part to the extent required to meet that emergency.

(c) Each pilot in command who deviates from a rule under paragraph (b) of this section shall, upon the request of the Administrator, send a written report of that deviation to the Administrator.

~~~

I have had other dangerous situations where I have done what I needed to do. Then when possible, I told air traffic control what I was doing, and they have always cleared me to do whatever it was that I told them I was doing. Note: I have never been asked for a written report.

In less-threatening situations, I have requested amended clearances and received them.

Even with working too many hours, getting bad checks, and being lied to on a regular basis, I still stayed on, hoping for a good-paying job in aviation. Some of us are slow learners.

In the above account of that nearly fatal flight, I should have exercised my authority as pilot in command and simply climbed out on top and out of the icing conditions. As we go through life situations and people put us in icing conditions, we must take command of the situation on some occasions. We may avoid many of these situations if we make the right choices in the first place. But like the above flight, sometimes we start off with the game plan thought out that should work, and something or someone puts an unexpected obstacle in our path and has bent our plans all out of shape. What are we going to do about it?

If we get to work on our plan B and exercise our pilot-in-command authority in time, we can probably still make it a successful and safe trip. One of the things I have learned was to file my flight plan with God at the beginning of the day and again with each new operation during the day, and then exercise what authority God gives me to manage the daily trials. We must be ready to take command of life situations before they take command of us.

A word to the wise: It is better to be down here wishing you were up there, than to be up there wishing you were down here.

if this is so, then the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from trials and to hold the unrighteous for punishment on the day of judgment (2 Peter 2:9).

~~~

When we think of ice in connection with attitude when someone is unfriendly or just downright ornery, we say they are cold as ice. When we allow ourselves to think bad things about someone, we start thinking about something “cold” to say about them or do to them.

Some people who want to do something bad to someone else might know of something that person did, perhaps a long time ago. Even though the perpetrator may at first feel guilty about having had the idea, Satan puts the thought in their head that it is okay to say whatever it is by planting the seed that it is the truth, and that makes it all right.

and the way of peace they do not know (Romans 3:17).

As we go through life, things, people, and situations put stress and trials in our path and load us up with “ice.”

Who is going to harm you if you are eager to do good? (1 Peter 3:13)

CHAPTER 18

Blessings To All

Lake Flying Service was giving me bad payroll checks. Then Smiley would tell me stories, and I swallowed them hook, line, and sinker. I kept working until I finally had to quit.

Lead me, LORD, in your righteousness because of my enemies – make your way straight before me. Not a word from their mouth can be trusted; their heart is filled with malice. Their throat is an open grave; with their tongues they tell lies (Psalm 5:8-9).

God had given me many signs and warnings that I did not heed. After all these subtle warnings to quit Lake Flying Service, God made it perfectly clear that it was time to get out and get another real job.

Lake Concrete Company was no longer an option as Ted had sold out and gone to Bible college to become a preacher.

No Joy

Having a family at home who was doing without things they wanted and in some cases needed, I finally had to accept the fact that what I was doing was once again a losing proposition. Two out of two at Lake Ozark. Five out of five altogether: Blrd Aviation, Smith’s Flying Service at Havana Illinois Airport, Mount Hawley Aviation, Grand Glaize Airport, and Lake Flying Service.

I give that landing a 9 . . . on the Richter scale.

I finally quit my job at Lake Flying Service, took my collection of bad checks to the county prosecutor, and signed the papers for him to do whatever he could to get my money and to put a stop to this guy’s bad business. A few weeks later, I was curious why I hadn’t heard anything from the prosecutor’s office and went in to talk to him. I asked about the notice being served on “Mr. Smiley,” and his response was that he had been unable to serve the papers in Camden County. He had found out that Smiley’s residence was in Jackson County and had forwarded the papers there.

After a few more weeks, I went back to see what was going on in regard to my bad payroll checks. The answer this time was that Jackson County had not been able to catch up with “Mr. Smiley.” Still later, I went in to get the bad checks and take them to the state’s attorney. This time the Camden County prosecutor looked through his file cabinet and said there were no such checks or related papers. Sound suspicious? I never did get any of the back pay. I got a few calls from the finance company that had financed the airplanes for the company. I heard later that pilots had come and repossessed the planes.

During the month of December in 1973, Sara and I had hoped to be able to get some things for our three children who had never had anything very nice. They needed clothes, and Sara and I had wanted to give them some toys. This year we still had hopes that the bad checks would be covered and that one I still had might be good. So Sara went to the Western Auto store in Camdenton and got a few inexpensive toys. Then in a couple of days, the last check bounced with still no hope of any of them being paid off. Sara took the toys back to the store and told the store owner what had happened. He told Sara to take the toys and give them to our children. Praise the Lord.

Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share (1 Timothy 6:18).

I still get choked up when I think about some of these things and how God had intervened in so many cases. I praise the Lord as our children did get a few new things for the Christmas of 1973.

I had struggled and tried to make it on my own, but even at this time I was not really aware of God’s plan for me. That would come a lot later and after much more turbulence and many more bad landings.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11).

Special Gifts

I was unemployed, not eligible for any unemployment checks, and not really programmed to look for welfare, food stamps, or any other kind of handout. Why does God allow things like this to happen to His people? In this case, it could have been to get me to focus more on His leading and direction. He provided for us in every case in such ways that I had to notice. Previously, God had taken care of us, not only in providing the material things we needed, but in family time and other things that were entertaining and educational, like the walking sticks. Once again I praise Him for providing, and we had to notice these very unusual provisions – just for us!

God provided morel-type mushrooms for us to eat and enjoy – one that weighed thirteen pounds and another that was eleven pounds, along with a box full of smaller ones and many coral mushrooms. This was not a normal thing; I can’t help but wonder if these mushrooms may have been record size. We needed food, and God gave us food – not just food, but special food that I couldn’t help but notice. Sara froze most of the mushrooms and sliced and cooked what we needed at the time. We had several meals out of the two large ones. At a time when the pantry was very low, God gave us food. I praise Him for His bountiful provision.

Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! (Luke 12:24)

Work for Skyler and Rob

Skyler and Robby were setting clay birds at the trap range on State Road A. This job gave them some spending money and a chance to learn gun safety and other responsibilities. I thank God for all my family on a regular basis, and these two young men are certainly a blessing. They have been quick to learn and apply and have also been loving, caring people. I was thankful that they could have this job at a time when money was so scarce at our home.

CHAPTER 19

A New Start

Since I had come to the Lake of the Ozarks, I had met several people at the airport, in construction, at Cub Scout meetings, and other places. Paul Warman, my friend from Lake Concrete Company, had introduced me to Bill Hanks, his neighbor who worked for Howard Construction. Bill had introduced me to his brother Carl, who worked for another construction company and was also a pilot.

Paul Warman and Bill Hanks both worked for Howard at this time, and they had worked with me enough to know that I had a mechanical and welding background and that I needed a job. They told me they were working on a job at Eldon, Missouri, which was just a few miles up the road from Osage Beach, and the company needed a welder.

I went with them one day to meet the boss on that job, Deon Sappington. Deon asked me a few questions, then introduced me to Bob Greene and told me to go with him. Bob was in charge of all the maintenance on this job. I went with Bob, and he showed me some heavy equipment and welding equipment. Then he asked some questions about how I would repair different things, and after a pretty short interview, Bob told me when to report for work.

Back in Construction

I worked for the Howard Construction road crew for four years from 1974 to 1977. God provided this job at a time when I felt like the only way out was to go on welfare, something I wanted to avoid at all costs.

I enjoyed much of my job in construction whether it was in operating equipment or repairing it. But like most jobs, the fun wears off, and soon it’s just a job. The hardest part of all was that my heart was set on being a professional pilot. I came to the conclusion that a contractor won’t buy anything that doesn’t weigh at least 150 pounds and have sharp edges.

I had to learn many new things about construction equipment, as I had never worked with large, rubber-tired, earth-moving scrapers forty-five cubic yards and larger. Some had two very large engines and four-wheel drive, Caterpillar 641 and 657, with correspondingly large loaders. I worked on the track equipment as well, from the 450 John Deere tractors up to the Caterpillar D9G push cats.

I had learned from my father that I needed to do it right the first time, as he reminded me that if you don’t have time to do it right the first time, when are you going to have time to do it over? This had a great influence on me, as did the time I spent with the aircraft mechanic Fred Radel from whom I learned to repair rather than just fix. The company learned that if I welded something, it was repaired and good to go the distance. As a result, I was asked to stay late to work on machines if I thought I could get them ready to go “in the dirt” the next day. As far as I know, at one time I was the only employee on overtime because of this.

The company soon found out that I was a crane operator as well. So when they could, they would park a crane in the pit area where we were servicing the broken equipment. I could use the crane to lift the heavy stuff like track frames and position it to make it easier to weld, and then put it back on the machine where it came from. We should also apply this idea of doing right in our Christian life.

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth (2 Timothy 2:15).

One of the things that I noticed right away was that the company kept their workers as far away from home as possible. I think the idea was that much of the money used to build roads came from motor fuel tax, so the more miles the help had to drive, the more taxes the state would have to build roads.

My first job for Howard’s was within thirty miles of home, but after that, the jobs were usually three or four hours away. Being a family man, I didn’t like being that far from home and didn’t really like motels. I told my boss that if the company didn’t keep me within fifty miles of home, I would turn in my time. They must have taken me seriously. They managed to keep me at least forty-nine miles out, but not over fifty, even though they had jobs that would have been less than twenty at times.

Deon Sappington was an older fellow and a good boss to work for. He was respected by most of the crew and knew how to move dirt. I only worked with this crew for a few weeks. This was a good time for me to learn more about what I had to do to get the heavy stuff repaired and back in the dirt. It was also a reasonably short drive for me to get from home to work, about a half hour.

I had been working for Howard’s for a while, and it was taking its toll on me. Sara did so many special things for me and our children that I get emotional thinking about them and have a hard time writing about even one of them. One day I had a bad day at work and made a complete fool of myself when I got home. Sara had very little jewelry and nothing very nice to wear for clothing. We were living in a two-bedroom mobile home. Sara and I had one of the bedrooms, our two boys had the other, and Kayla had a twin bed in the living room. When I walked in, I saw a beautiful woman wearing her nicest clothes, modest makeup – including lipstick, her finest jewelry, and a beautiful smile. Sara had our three children, ranging in age from 4 to 10 years old, playing quietly in the living room with the few toys they had. I don’t know where Sara got the money to buy steak, but she had the table set for two with candles burning, a steak and a potato on each plate, and other special things on the table. Sara greeted me with a smile and a hug – what could be more touching than this?

I had been through a bad day at work and should have been overjoyed to be greeted as I was. I still don’t know what came over me, but I threw a fit and made a complete fool of myself. I said some very disrespectful things like, “You look like a gypsy.” Sara never did anything like this for me again. I would be the first to admit that I certainly don’t deserve any such special treatment after what I did that evening. Sara has done many more above-and-beyond things for me. I praise the Lord for Sara. This would have been in 1974 or 1975, and I can only say, “I am so sorry, Sara. I love you.”

The picture below was taken about a year later.

Floyd Cottrell

Floyd was another good boss to work for. He was dirt boss at the job near La Grange, Missouri. He was observant that I always did my best to properly repair the equipment so that it would give good service. The lesson I learned from Fred Radel – the difference between fixing and repairing something – served me well. It is a common practice for many to take the shortcuts and fix, but rarely repair. You might think I just grew up and knew what to do, but I was raised and taught some of the basic things, like doing things right and doing your best to earn your pay, and being honest with everyone.

For Scripture says, “Do not muzzle an ox while it is treading out the grain,” and “The worker deserves his wages” (1 Timothy 5:18).

Floyd Cottrell was a World War II veteran. He had been an engineer (the person who monitored and operated the engines on an aircraft) on PBY and PBM aircraft (large amphibious airplanes) during the war. Some of their missions were to pick up downed airmen in the Pacific. Floyd told me several stories about the operations he was involved in during World War II.

PBY

The PBY was loaded and fueled to go to San Diego when word came that there was a B-29 crew down in the Pacific. The crew of the plane that Floyd was on was told to go pick up the aircrew. When they found the B-29 crew, the seas were too rough for a routine landing, so the captain ordered all the pumps to be manned, and everyone else was to be ready to bail water. He knew they were going to damage the hull by landing in such rough seas.

They landed, and as the captain told them, they popped a lot of rivets, bent bulkheads, and separated a number of seams. They were taking on a lot of water. When the last man was aboard, the captain ordered the engines brought up to maximum power for the takeoff. The good news in a rough-seas situation is that you have a strong wind to head into for the takeoff, and in a reasonably short run, the overloaded and bent PBY got into the air and headed toward San Diego approximately 1,100 miles away.

In normal conditions and load, the Catalina had a range of over 2,500 miles. In this case, the PBY had to find the bomber crew, land, pick up the crew, and then take off with an overloaded and damaged hull. They hoped to make it to San Diego, California, which they did, but just barely. In a short time after takeoff, the left engine oil temp was climbing, and the oil pressure was declining, both items that Floyd was required to report to his captain. The captain’s response was to keep the torque up, as he needed all the power available. Floyd set the engine power to the maximum continuous setting (the highest power setting that the engine can produce for a long period of time).

A while later, the temp had gone higher, the pressure was lower, and the torque was falling off once again. Floyd had to report to his captain the condition of the left engine. Once again, the captain ordered the torque to be kept up as long as he could. After a while, Floyd had to report that the oil pressure was nearly gone, and the engine was no longer able to produce any beneficial torque. The captain ordered the engine to be feathered. I don’t know the minimum oil pressure that you had to have for the feathering mechanism to work, but it was a hydraulic operation that required engine oil pressure. They had to have that engine feathered because they were low and a long way from safety. Had they not been able to feather that propeller, they would have been lost at sea.

They were still several hundred miles out with the good engine running at maximum continuous power. The plane was slowly losing altitude. By the time they saw San Diego, the plane was riding on ground effect and actually hitting the tops of some of the swells. They got close to a ramp where they put the landing gear down and powered up the remaining engine. With the landing gear on the ramp so they didn’t sink, a tractor towed them up on the ramp. That was the end of flight and service time for some on this flight and a time for all to be thankful.

Huey Pilot

Dennis, Floyd’s son, served as a Huey pilot in Vietnam where he rescued injured soldiers, sometimes behind enemy lines, and took them to get medical help. Dennis did many jobs with the Huey, but some left him with really bad memories, which caused him to have nightmares and other problems. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a real thing and causes permanent problems in many cases.

Dennis was a good soldier who served in bad places along with thousands of our other veterans so that you and I can enjoy the freedom that we have in America. Thank you, veterans.

It is a fact of life that freedom is not free. In the case of our freedom as American citizens, many of our service people paid the ultimate price. In the case of our spiritual freedom, our Lord paid the price for our salvation.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe (Hebrews 12:28).

CHAPTER 20

Smith’s Flying Service, Again!

While I was working for Howard Construction, the flying bug kept biting me. I was trying to save some money to buy an airplane to get back into the flying business, and save some money for myself. By this time, I had had professional pilot/flight instructor jobs at five different places (Blrd Aviation; Smith’s Flying Service at Havana, Illinois; Mount Hawley Aviation; Grand Glaize Airport; and Lake Flying Service), and all of them turned out badly. While I learned something at all of them, I made very little money.

I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all (Ecclesiastes 9:11).

We had been banking with Bank of Lake of the Ozarks in Osage Beach since we moved there during the summer of 1971. Our banker was Larry Shields. We didn’t have much in our account, but were keeping up with our payments and gaining a little. Larry had financed a mobile home and a boat for us. I asked him to finance an airplane for me, and his first response was, “I would be glad to finance a new car, boat, home, business, or about anything else you would want, but our bank has had a bad experience with a helicopter, and the board doesn’t want to have anything to do with anything that flies.”

He had financed a helicopter for an operator who was hopping rides in Osage Beach and had put the helicopter on ground-only insurance and had flown it after an ice storm had caused a lot of damage at the lake. The pilot was showing off for the TV cameras and broke through the ice with one of the skids on the helicopter, which got caught by the ice and ultimately caused the helicopter to crash. The pilot barely escaped. At this time, our banker and his board of directors were not the least bit interested in making any more loans on aircraft. The helicopter was a total loss.

I asked Larry to present my needs to his board and see if they would reconsider in my case. He did and they did. Praise the Lord. I purchased a 1973 Cessna 150 N10050 and put it on the line.

This is the first Cessna 150 I ever owned. It is a 1973, and the registration number is a bit unusual as well: N10050.

In 1975, I was working for Howard’s and flying on weekends and at other times when I was not working on the road. We reopened Smith’s Flying Service, and the flight training got off to a good start. The 150 was more than paying for itself by the end of that season. I was still using the Grand Glaize Airport at Osage Beach, Missouri, and parking my Cessna 150 there. I don’t remember the date, but I had Fred install a banner-tow hitch on my 150 around this time. I have always had to work with a limited or no budget, and this was no exception. Those who knew anything about airplanes and banner towing told me that it wasn’t worth the trouble to put a hitch on a 150. Some said I would kill myself trying to tow with a 150.

As it turned out, I did several hours of profitable banner tows with the 150. This was enough to get the word out that I did banner towing. On the first banner tow with the 150, soon after I picked up the banner, the hitch let go and dropped the banner in a tall tree at the south end of the airport. I managed to get a helicopter operator to come and help me get my banner back. The pilot didn’t charge me anything for the service. Another time to praise the Lord.

In 1976, I was busy with Howard’s, getting some overtime, which certainly helped the budget. Most of my work with the road crew was done from March through October, weather permitting. Normally, November through February was a time that I could fly quite a bit. Many of my flight students were seasonal workers at the Lake of the Ozarks, so they were also off during these months. For most of my time working with Howard’s, I was working with a dirt crew. That meant there were times that I couldn’t work because it was too wet, so that allowed me to get in some flight time.

Mom

On Sunday, March 21, 1976, at Mom’s invitation, Bryon and I went to Pearl, Illinois, for some family time with her and Dad. I believe now that Mom was suffering from depression, and I was unaware how serious it was. Mom invited us to come for Sunday dinner (“lunch” to some people), the midday meal. Mom was an excellent cook and hostess, and as usual everything was in order and the meal was great. However, Mom was obviously not feeling well. Bryon and I both had the flu and were not feeling well either. After a great tasting meal, Bryon and I went home to Linn Creek, Missouri.

I was opening the door to my home when I got a call from my father that my mother was in critical condition and in the hospital in Pittsfield, Illinois. He said we, my brother Bryon and I, should come as soon as possible, as the doctor said to get the family together.

It was about a three-and-a-half-hour drive each way from where I lived in Missouri to Pittsfield, Illinois. Bryon and I were both running a fever, which made it a very long trip. This was the second trip that day to Illinois. When we got to the hospital, Dad met us at the door to Mom’s room. He told us that the doctor had done some tests and found out that Mom had a treatable liver disease. He had put her on some medication, and she would get over it. Dad suggested we should go back home and thanked us for coming.

Once again, soon after we got to our mobile home, the phone rang. This time Dad told me that Mom was not responding to the medicine, and the doctor had said he should get the family together. I asked Dad what he wanted us to do, and he told me that he had ordered an ambulance to take Mom to Springfield, Illinois, to have some specialists take care of her. He said we should try to get some rest.

Dad called the next morning and told us that the tests showed that Mom’s liver and kidneys had failed, and told me to get the family together. We made another trip to Illinois. Mom was awake and knew us, but very weak. The doctors again told Dad that she had a treatable disease and had put her on medicine that should turn her problem around in a few hours. Dad once more told us to go home and get some rest.

Mom went into a comatose state and never woke up again. On the 27th, we went to be with her and Dad again. I went to the nurses’ station to ask if I could go in to see her. The response was yes, but that she wouldn’t know I was there. My sister Gina had been there a lot, since Mom was in Springfield and was there when I went in. I took Mom’s hand in mine and asked her if she knew who I was. She gave me a strong squeeze. I believe that Mom knew who I was, and the squeeze that she gave me was her only way to thank me for being there. She never woke up. Mom died on Sunday, March 28, 1976.

~~~

I got lots of overtime at Howard’s, and my flight time was picking up, so once again I was staying very busy and putting a few dollars in the bank. This all looked pretty good to me at the time, but I look back on it and realize that I missed some of the best times with my family and am grieved by that now. I thank God that my family grew up and did as well as they have.

In 1977, I was thinking about quitting Howard’s and trying to make it on my own in aviation. Again? It had been another very busy year with working both for Howard’s and at the airport, flying students and towing banners. Sara was working at the Dogwood Hills Golf Resort restaurant and putting in some long days.

By this time, I had a few dollars in the bank, a pretty good number of flight students, and rental pilots flying the 150. I decided that I could make good use of a Cessna 172. A friend of mine in the Pekin, Illinois, area told me about a nice 1973 C-172 that a friend of his had, and that he had just completed a top overhaul (overhauled the cylinders) on the engine. I called for information about the airplane and got the price. Once again, I presented it to my banker who said he would get the loan ready, and I could get the airplane.

This airplane is also a 1973. It is a Cessna 172; its registration number is N19946. I thought it was unusual to see an aircraft without a letter on both ends of the registration number, but after this purchase, I owned two of them – N10050 and N19946, and they were both 1973 Cessnas. I had already had Fred Radel put a banner-tow hitch on my Cessna 150, and soon after, I had Fred install a tow hitch on the 172. The banner-tow business started picking up.

Missionary Friends

Carl Hanks spent most of his working years as a heavy equipment and crane operator, as well as a repairman on such equipment. He was also an airplane pilot and had a couple of calls to do mission work. As in my case, he didn’t go at the time God called him. Sometime after the call, one of his sons was killed in a car crash.

Carl believed that this might have been because he didn’t answer God’s call. His daughter-in-law didn’t want to raise their daughter, so Carl and his wife Francis raised their granddaughter. Along the way, Carl started doing some short-term mission work, ministering to Native Americans in Oklahoma and other places.

One of the short-term mission trips he did took him to TAC (Tribal Air and Communication), the air support team for NTM. Carl went to Douglas, Arizona, to help with a construction project for TAC. (The name has now been changed to NTM Aviation.) When Carl got home from this trip, he told me about the work they do in Arizona and other places around the world. He said they were landing airplanes on a 900-foot-long strip at over 5,000-feet elevations. This got my attention, as this was not a normal thing to do with the types of airplanes they were flying.

Then Carl told me about the NTM language school at Macks Creek, Missouri, and that they had a short one-way strip there. I landed at the New Tribes Mission strip at Macks Creek. It was an interesting and pretty short grass strip at the end of a cove. You could come in low and slow over the water and be ready to touch down at the end of the cove. It was a very realistic jungle-type strip, but not as challenging as some I used in Illinois as a student pilot and later as a private pilot. All the landings were toward the end of the canyon and all the departures were toward the lake. It was a great place for me to go visit with missionaries who were there for language training or to provide the training for others who were preparing to go work with an indigenous group.

I think it was also another nudge for me to pay more attention to that still, small voice telling me to start a missionary pilot training organization in the area. I believe that if I had done as God was telling me at this point, Christian Wings would have been planted at Camdenton and would have been able to network with NTM. I probably would not have been in the plane crash that I experienced later. The airstrip at the NTM language school was considered to be a hazard for the non-bush pilots and it was closed.

“Too soon old, and too late smart.”

With all these pieces coming together, I was starting to hear that still, small voice telling me to start training missionary pilots.

Carl got his wake-up call around 1981 and didn’t question it this time. He hung up his hard hat and started preparing to go to Oklahoma and work with the Indians there. One of the areas that Carl first went to was at Sallisaw, Oklahoma. He had a lot of things to move and needed help. By this time, I had moved my family near Mountain View, Missouri, and had built a gooseneck trailer. I had an old pickup to pull my trailer with and was able to help Carl move. I attended some of the services at the Indian church and called on the people in the area, another nudge and proof to me that God wasn’t done with me yet. But I still wasn’t seeing the whole picture.

Ron Hanks was one of Carl’s sons. Ron worked for Howard Construction Company during some of the time I worked for them. Ron was a grade checker (a person who would check to see if the dirt was at the right elevation or not and stake it out with information for the operators) for the company.

Ron ended up leaving Howard’s and moving to Humboldt, Kansas. He started working with various missions and different types of ministries. One of the things his group did was to provide motorcycles to missionaries in foreign countries. He also started a motorcycle ministry in Kansas. This is where Carl and Francis retired when they were no longer able to do their missionary work.

Riding Shotgun

One of the county officers said that if I was interested in working with the county, I should come to the sheriff’s office and meet Sheriff George Green. I could check to see if he would be interested in having me serve with Camden County as a deputy. I went in for the meeting and was invited to come in as a deputy. I told him that I had other obligations and could only be there part time.

At that point George suggested that I could go through the training, be deputized, and serve as a reserve deputy. I did all of the above and was deputized. I got my uniform, badge, and statute book. I chose to carry a Ruger Single Six revolver for my service revolver. This caused some interesting remarks, don’t ya know, as all the other deputies were either carrying double-action revolvers or automatic pistols.

I usually got called in for the holiday weekends and other occasions when the crowds were large in the lake area. I did in fact ride shotgun, as in the center of our patrol car was an 1897 Winchester 12-gauge riot gun loaded with 4 rounds of 00 buckshot and a couple of slugs. I carried a two-way radio and a five-cell Maglite flashlight in addition to other items. I am thankful that I never had to fire the revolver or the shotgun in the line of duty. Another praise for the Lord for the experience and His watch care.

In serving as a Camden County deputy sheriff, I worked with several police officers – city, county, and state. A few were special to me and are worth mentioning here.

Red Ryder

Ralph Ryder used Red Ryder for his CB handle/call sign.

Farentino

Trooper Farentino was another very good police officer.

Jim Corsentino

Jim, state trooper and friend, was an above-and-beyond police officer and a Christian brother. Jim earned a number of awards for his service and his ability with his side arm, including marksmanship, sharpshooter, and expert.

All of the above men shared some things with me that were line-of-duty related and educational and encouraging to me. I had the opportunity to work with these men and spend time with them, on and off duty. I praise the Lord for this blessing to me.

CHAPTER 21

Now We’re Truckin’!

Along the way, I had a part interest in a radio shop that included manufacturing and erecting towers. This shop was at the Brown and Hicks Truck Stop.

I was laid off from my road construction job and was spending more time at the truck stop radio shop. A truck broke down coming up the hill into the truck stop. It was clear of the highway. The driver set the air brakes and walked up to the truck stop and asked the owner, Greg Hicks, if there was a truck shop in the area. Greg told him that it would be quite a ways to the nearest truck shop.

The driver continued explaining that the transmission shifter wasn’t working. The engine was running, but he couldn’t get it in gear. Greg told him that the only one he knew of that might be able to help would be Lionel Smith, and that he could find me in the CB shop. The driver came over and told me what had happened. I told him that I would go with him and take a look at the problem.

This was the first big truck that I had ever been in that had a five-speed transmission. It was a Mack with a 250-horsepower engine. I looked it over and found, as the driver had told me, that the shifter wasn’t working. It was easy to get the top off the transmission, and I had enough tools with me to do that. I could see that a set screw had let go, and the shifter forks had dropped out of place. Otherwise, I couldn’t see anything else wrong with it. I could see that I was going to have to do some machine work on the top cover to put in an oversize set screw, so I took it to Marion Watson’s machine shop to do the work.

I got the repairs done in a little while and put the top back on the transmission and drove the loaded truck up to the truck stop parking area. I went in to tell the driver that his truck was fixed. The driver got the truck file and showed me where the signed checks were. He gave me the owner’s name so I could call him to get an authorization to cash a check for my repair bill. He was going with another company.

I called the owner of the truck and told him that his truck was fixed. He then asked me if I would take the truck and finish the run with it. This caught me totally off guard. After I thought about that, I told him that I could take it if I didn’t have to be gone very long. He said it should be only two or three days. The truck had to unload in Milwaukee, then go to Green Bay to get another load, and come back home. I agreed I could be gone that long. I asked Sara if she wanted to go and if she could get a sitter for our kids. She said yes to both, and we started getting ready for a truck trip to Wisconsin.

I had never driven a big truck with a five-speed transmission, so it took me awhile to find my shift points and learn the sound of the engine at those speeds. Yep, I raked the gears.

The next snag was that the truck did not have an Illinois fuel permit, so I had to go to northern Missouri and then into Iowa to get to Wisconsin. Rain started in northeast Missouri, and the temperature was near freezing. This was something that I was used to watching in airplanes, but I didn’t really think about it much in ground transportation. I did begin to wonder, what next? We hadn’t gone very far into Iowa before the ice started sticking to our truck. That’s when I found out that the heater and defroster didn’t work very well, if at all. The wipers were also intermittent.

After twenty miles, we started to get very slick roads, so I took it very carefully. Our truck was loaded to the legal limit; I think it was 73,000 pounds, or so. In a few more miles, we started seeing all kinds of vehicles in the ditches and lots of collisions. Needless to say, Sara and I wished we had stayed home. We weren’t having fun anymore. We were still being careful and moving slowly. Then I found out that the radiator shutters didn’t work on this truck either.

It was getting dark, so I turned on the lights. After about five minutes, the breaker to the trailer lights went out. We were already thinking about taking a bus home, but the truck was loaded with chicken by-products and would spoil if it didn’t get delivered by tomorrow evening. I managed to find where the trailer lights shorted out and cleared that problem, took a rock and propped the radiator shutter partway open, and continued to make my way toward Milwaukee.

I started thinking that I have made it through some pretty tough situations by focusing on what I have that works and not dwelling on what doesn’t. If you read His Wind Beneath My Wings, Book 1, you saw the above words. The engine was running fine; the transmission was working; the brakes came on gently without locking up; and Sara and I were both alive and well. Special note: The truck is what drivers call a suicide cab, or a cab-over-engine truck where the driver and passenger sit right above the front wheels. The driver side was what they call a joy rider that took a lot of the vibrations and bumps, and the wheel on my side ran smooth.

I have a feeling you already know what is coming. The tire on Sara’s side was out of balance, and the seat had a rigid frame. Sara was hurting from the beating she had been getting and had ridden part time in an absolutely filthy sleeper bunk. With the ice, we could only go about twenty miles per hour or less, so Sara could sit in the seat again. We finally got to a motel and spent the night.

One of the first things I noticed about this old truck was that it had an air-start system, so I knew better than to turn it off. The next morning, the freezing rain had quit, and the roads were in pretty good condition, so we made our way to the dog food company that was supposed to get the chicken meal. When we got there, we went to the unloading docks, which were in a low area, and there was about two feet of water where the trailer wheels went.

The next thing I found out was that the plant was a union company, and the truck’s owner was not, so they didn’t want to unload us. I talked to the plant superintendent, and he told me they would unload the truck if I would remove the tarp. With great difficulty, Sara and I carefully moved the tarp to one side of the truck, hoping to keep it on there. The loader operator promptly knocked the tarp off into the water below and managed to put a large hole in the bottom of the trailer. After the truck was unloaded, I drove up enough so we could get to the tarp. I managed to fasten the tarp to the truck and dragged it to the parking lot. After quite a struggle, Sara and I got it in the truck. Praise God for Sara.

I looked at the map and found the shortest road to Green Bay, which also turned out to be the roughest and slowest road. We had a certain time that we had to be at the paper mill company to get our load, and we missed it by about an hour. We were told that we could get in line in the morning and wait our turn. We got a room at the Title Town Motel. There were other trucks there, and I parked next to a Roadway trucker who said he would give us air in the morning to get our truck started. So I made another big mistake and stopped the engine on the Mack.

Sara and I did have a good night’s rest and a good meal. Then we tried to get our truck started. The Roadway driver hooked up the gladhands, the air-hose fittings from his truck to ours. Our truck turned over but didn’t start. So the other driver said he would give it a shot of ether, which sounded good. He shot a lot of ether into the intake on our truck before I started cranking it, and it became ether locked. He said he had to go and bid us good luck. I was pretty sure we were finally having fun.

We called a tire company that had a service truck with a big, self-powered air compressor, and they came. We got started in the afternoon, but we were supposed to be at the plant to get our load at eight o’clock. I didn’t know what would happen next, but the truck was running, and we headed to the plant to get in line.

It was getting dark, and we were still several trucks from the loading dock when the snow started. Oh, goody. At around eight o’clock at night, I was finally able to back in to the dock. They loaded a few pallets of the stuff we were supposed to get, and then we got more bad news. No more pallets were ready, so we had to wait for the bagging machine to make the rest of it. A young man carried the bags, four at a time, on his shoulders to load into our truck. These were fifty-pound bags. We needed a total of 880 bags, and then we had to tarp it and take it to Missouri.

By this time it was after midnight, and there was at least two feet of snow on the ground and it was still coming down heavily. Sara commented that she thought we’d get a room for the night. My answer was no, the truck is running, we are loaded, and we are going south.

The truck did have a new set of Michelin tires on the drive axles. We headed out. With all the stuff that didn’t work on the truck, we were having a hard time seeing and keeping warm, but we were on the highway, headed south, and making 25 to 30 miles per hour, running mostly in third gear. After about fifty miles, the snow tapered off, and we started seeing downed power poles and wires. Some of the wires were still hot and sparking around on the ground.

Sara said, “You aren’t going to run over those, are you?”

I said yep, and she got her feet right up on the seat. I don’t know for how many miles the power poles and wires were down, but it was the worst case of downed poles and wires I had ever seen. It was getting light, and the snow was gone. The roads were pretty open. We were through Madison, Wisconsin. Sara was really having fun now! I finally got up enough speed to shift to fourth gear, and my engine revved up. This truck had a twin-disc clutch, and one hub twisted out, so we were back to third gear.

We finally made it to Dubuque, Iowa, to an international truck shop on Saturday night. We were supposed to be home Saturday night at the latest. It was midnight, and Sara and I were parking a trailer and dollying it down to disconnect the tractor in very cold weather – well below freezing. The next day was Sunday. I called the truck’s owner and told him where we were. He made a deal with the shop to get the truck fixed on Sunday, so we could get on home Monday. Are we having fun yet?

We made it home Monday, and the truck’s owner asked me if I would take the truck to Kansas City. It didn’t take me long to tell him no thanks. We had already had enough fun.

I am thankful to have had the time with Sara, the experience in the trying situations, and seeing the hand of God bring us through these situations that made me feel completely helpless. I praise Him for His faithfulness.

But one testified in a certain place, saying: “What is man that You are mindful of him, Or the son of man that You take care of him? (Hebrews 2:6 NKJV)

what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? (Psalm 8:4)

CHAPTER 22

Flying Again!

During the spring of 1978, I had decided that I was going to try to get something going in aviation again. I had two small airplanes, both of which had tow hitches installed. Sara and I agreed that it would be good if we could have our operation somewhere other than at Grand Glaize or Lee C Fine airports. As God would have it, one of my friends told me that Camdenton was having a problem with the FAA because they did not have the airport open to provide some kind of service. I went to Camdenton to talk to the city administrator (John, for now) to see if they would consider giving me the opportunity to run my flight operation from their airport and at the same time look after the airport for them.

This was when I found out that they had closed the airport during late summer of 1977 to resurface the runway, but the contractor didn’t come to do the work. The city decided that because it was their airport, they would leave it closed until the next year. The city leaders weren’t aware that if their airport had federal money invested in it, the federal government had some say about these things. The problem came when the FAA found out that the airport was closed for what they thought was no good reason. They had notified Camdenton that they had to open the airport, or they would open it for them and send them the bill for whomever they hired to run it.

John shared this with me and called the FAA office in Kansas City, Missouri, to see what could be done. John told them that I was there and had asked if I could open the airport and provide FBO services and air services for the city of Camdenton. Their response was for us to come to Kansas City and discuss this with them.

I flew John to Kansas City and met with the FAA on this matter. We all agreed that if I would get the airport open and provide services there, they would accept that and let the other discussion go for the time being. I signed a contract for a dollar for a year’s lease on the airport. Then John took Sara and me to the airport to show us around, give us a key to the office, and wished us luck. (You know by now that we don’t run on luck.)

During the next few weeks, we started the following operations: flight training, ground schools, banner towing, air taxiing, pumping gas, and other related services. (I got my FAR 135 at KCK Airport.) I also flew commuter airline flights for Podunk Airlines, did photo flights, and provided aircraft rental.

Sara and I went to work moving what little airport stuff we had to the Camdenton Airport. We moved two small airplanes, some ground school supplies, training aids, our aerial banner equipment, a few tools, and lawn mowers.

Summer of 1978

We had moved Smith’s Flying Service to the Camdenton Airport. David McDonald and I towed two banners for a country show. The first one read, “I am going to the Country Show,” and was towed by our Cessna 172. The second one, towed by our Cessna 150, read, “Me too.” We received more positive comments about these signs than any others. Sara fabricated some of the special banners with logos. I fabricated a fixture from plywood and screw-in hooks that would hold the banner letter at its full size. Sara had very little in the way of sewing tools or equipment, but the letters and logos that she made were perfect and held up well. Thanks again, Sara.

The airport start-up involved quite a bit of work. We cleaned up the airport office that hadn’t been used for many years and groomed the grounds. Then we worked on getting a game plan to advertise our business. We decided to advertise a private pilot package, including ground school, books, as well as forty hours of flight time for a thousand dollars. We put an ad on the local radio station about our private pilot package.

Soon after the ad ran, a guy came in and asked about our private pilot package. I told him about the details and the one-thousand-dollar price tag. He started in by saying that it was robbery and ranted about the stuff with Jesse James and such. I had seen this guy at the Dogwood Hills Golf Resort where Sara was working at the time and knew that he drove a new Corvette each year, had nice golf toys and a cart, and was a member of the club. When he slowed down, I asked him what it cost him to be a member of Dogwood Hills. He promptly responded it was $3,500 a year. I then countered with that much for a membership to Dogwood Hills or a thousand dollars for a pilot certificate for a lifetime of flying; which was the robbery?

He responded that he hadn’t thought of it in that sense. I possibly shot myself in the foot, but I told him that I wasn’t interested in having him for a student anyway. We also advertised our banner-towing service for advertising local businesses and events. We started getting some calls. Some of the customers that I had at the Grand Glaize Airport came to Camdenton. Bob Scott was one of those.

Bob Scott

Bob Scott owned two or more concrete plants in the Lake of the Ozarks area. Bob was interested in learning to fly while I was still at the Grand Glaize Airport. I got Bob started in his flight training in Smiley’s 150. Bob had the resources to go buy a new airplane, probably anything he wanted. He chose a new Maule M-4 235-horsepower airplane.

Bob Scott’s new airplane, Maule M-4 235

When Bob’s new airplane was delivered to the Grand Glaize Airport, I was working for Howard Construction Company on a job several miles away from the Lake of the Ozarks and was unable to fly with Bob right away. Another instructor had come to the Grand Glaize Airport and was starting to fly with students who were waiting for me. This instructor told Bob that he was very experienced and capable in the Maule airplane and wanted to teach him to fly it.

On the very first lesson, this new instructor decided to demonstrate his ability by making a short-field landing in the Maule. In the process, he dropped the airplane in for a really bad landing and in effect totaled the airplane. I heard that the airplane could still taxi to the ramp after the landing, but the tubing on the fuselage was bent, and I don’t know what other parts of the aircraft were also damaged.

By the time I got home from working with Howard Construction and had time to work with Bob, his airplane had been repaired or replaced. Bob was not letting anyone else fly with him in his new airplane. (I have been blessed and encouraged by other students who were like-minded in this area.)

My time flying with Bob was very good. I had already taught him to fly in a Cessna 150 and helped him get his private license. It was a pretty easy transition into the Maule M-4. Bob had worked with many different kinds of equipment and was a quick learner. He grasped operating machinery very quickly, so he was a good student in the tailwheel airplane. As time went on, I demonstrated more and more of the Maule’s short-field STOL (short takeoff and landing) type of flight capabilities.

Bob brought his airplane to Camdenton, Missouri, after I moved my airplanes there. He was a regular customer at Camdenton; he bought fuel, oil, and pilot supplies from us as well.

The new Maule was a great performer. This airplane line is very closely related to the Piper Pacer series in some ways. To put 235 horsepower on a tiny and very light airplane makes it a lot of fun to fly. Then add some oversize tires, flaps, and a constant speed propeller, and you don’t need much room. The surface can be pretty rough or soft, and then you’re outta there. We had a spot on our diagonal runway that was about a hundred yards long, and the Maule could take off in about half that length on a cool day with a little headwind.

Interesting and Talented Friend

Hughvon Byler was a very interesting fellow. He was a machinist and an avid motorcyclist. He was skilled with mechanical things and had purchased a Hiller helicopter and put it together. I heard he even taught himself to fly it. Hughvon also built custom motorcycles for a number of bikers and took some to the large motorcycle shows around the country.

I decided to get our air taxi certificate if possible. I flew to Kansas City, Kansas, to the Fairfax Airport where the FAA GADO (General Aviation District Office) was located. They have now changed the name to FSDO (Flight Standards District Office).

I went in around 8:00 a.m. The receptionist came to the front desk and asked what she could do for me. I told her that I wanted to apply for a Part 135 certificate. She gave me an application that I filled out and handed back to her.

In a few minutes, two gentlemen came to me, and one asked for the logbooks to the aircraft and where was it parked. The other said to come with him.

I went with the operations inspector and did the oral exam for the air taxi operations. In a few minutes, the maintenance inspector came in and asked if that was the airplane that I had planned on using for carrying passengers for hire in instrument conditions. I told him that it was, and he responded that I couldn’t use it because it didn’t have enough radios in it.

I responded by asking him if he could show me in the regulations why I couldn’t use it, and he said, “I sure can.”

The operations inspector smiled and told me to go with him, and he’d wait for me. The maintenance inspector opened the regulations and promptly showed me a regulation that said I had to have a transmitter. I told him I had one, and he said, “I’ve got you here.” He showed me that I had to have two receivers capable of receiving voice communications. I told him I had three, but he countered, “What do you mean?”

I explained that I had my communication receiver, my navigation receiver, and my low-frequency receiver, which can all receive voice communication. Not being ready to give up, the inspector went to the table of contents in the regulations and looked up another one to prove me wrong. As he read it, I noted that it required two transmitters, but pertained to long, over-water routes that I had not applied for.

He finally said, “It’s okay if you can switch the frequencies fast enough to pass the flight test.”

With that, I went back to the operations inspector and completed my oral exam. Then we went to the airplane for about an hour flight check, mostly on instruments. God blessed me with the ability to switch the frequencies fast enough to safely complete all phases of the practical test for an air taxi pilot to carry passengers and cargo for hire in instrument conditions.

In the above conversation, I had studied the FAA regulations to the point that I was ready for every question they asked me, which made it possible for me to pass the oral test and the flight test for air taxi operations. I am ashamed to say that I cannot do that with the Word of God.

Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone (Colossians 4:6).

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect (1 Peter 3:15).

I have been told that to get an air taxi certificate today may take a year or more. Successful completion of the testing above is good reason to praise our Lord.

I already had my banner-tow waiver and the equipment to do aerial advertising. At that time, there were no other banner-tow operators in the Lake of the Ozarks area. I had already been doing some banner towing, and it was catching on, so I was getting calls for the tourist season at the lake for banner operations. I signed some people up for pilot training, and we started to get calls for charter flights and were even able to put a little money in the bank.

I was also doing photo flights quite often, which amounted to several hours of flight time a week during the summer.

The banner-tow service started to get busy along with all the other things we had going. I hired David McDonald to help with the banner work and photo flights, so I could do some of the other flights.

I called my friend Roland Tetley at the Lee C Fine Airport to ask if I could continue taking the baggage loads and up to three of the Podunk passengers as I did when I flew for Lake Flying Service. He said that would still work, so I added that to my things to do.

At this time, I had two airplanes on the line – a Cessna 150 two-place trainer and rental plane and a Cessna 172 four-place airplane that I used for a trainer, rental airplane, banner-tow plane, and charter plane. And all were staying busy.

During the summer, many times Skyler, Robert, Kayla, and Sara were at the airport helping me with the chores. On other occasions, I had one or both of my sons working at the airport doing whatever needed to be done. My sons could do anything. I must not leave my lovely daughter out of this either, as she did what she could and was always a joy to be around. When Sara wasn’t working at the golf course restaurant, she was also there.

CHAPTER 23

Crop Dusting & Life Saving

Kayla sitting in Old Zeke N6944Z

This airplane is a Piper PA-25-235. It has a Lycoming O-540 engine rated at 235 horsepower, a 150-gallon hopper tank, and attachments to do wet or dry application.

One day, Don, one of my flight students who was a farmer, asked me if I had ever thought of getting a spray plane. I told him that I hadn’t, but this was enough to start me thinking about an ag plane. I found a Piper Pawnee model PA-25-235 that was for sale in Topeka, Kansas. I called about it, and its owner told me that it was in good condition and gave me a price of $12,500. I went to look at the airplane and liked it, so I bought it. This was the only airplane that I was ever able to pay for on the spot.

I made arrangements to get the Pawnee home in late spring, but the days and weeks were going by, and the Pawnee was still sitting there. Early summer was upon us, and the spring spray season was over. I was beginning to think that it wasn’t a good idea to buy an ag plane after the season was over.

By midsummer, Don came in and told me his friend in Iowa was a pesticide applicator who used ground equipment to spray fields, and they had had a wet spring in Iowa such that the corn had grown too tall to spray with a Hi-Boy sprayer. Don told him that I had an ag plane and could possibly do the spraying for him. The friend in Iowa suggested that I come up for a day and do a few acres to see what happened. I agreed to go for a day.

I sprayed 2,4-D on about 600 acres of corn that day and went home. Three days later I got a call from Iowa, and the news I got about the spraying I had done was that it had been very effective. He wanted me to come back and do a lot more. I went back and did enough during the next week that it paid for the Pawnee. Wow. God was blessing again, and I went from thinking I should not have purchased the Pawnee to it paying for itself in a week.

Almost Serious Mistake

Most of the airplanes that I have flown can be started on both magnetos, but the Pawnee is a Piper and has only one magneto with an impulse coupling that makes it necessary to start on the left magneto, and then turn on the right one. It was to be the last load of the day, and it was hot. The distance to the field was far enough that it required most of the fuel that I could carry. Due to the high temperature, I had been limiting my loads to 90 gallons of chemical, but this field was going to need 120 gallons.

After some thought, I decided that I had a long enough runway to make it into the air with the 120-gallon load. My nurse crew loaded the airplane to the 120 gallons. I had them pull my airplane as far back in the corner of the runway as possible to take advantage of every foot for this overweight takeoff. It had been a long day, and I was very tired. At least, that was the excuse I use for this close call.

I started the engine on the left magneto and decided not to bother with doing the usual run-up check. I set the trim, opened the throttle, and was concentrating on keeping centered on the runway when I noticed that the airplane wasn’t accelerating as fast as it had been. I wrote this sign off as I had an additional 30 gallons in the tank so I was a lot heavier than on the other loads. It never occurred to me to check the tachometer to see at what rpm the engine was turning.

The field dropped off about four feet just before it got to the fence at the end. As I arrived at the drop-off, I pulled back on the elevator and barely cleared the fence. Then the Pawnee settled a little, and it became obvious that I was going to go down in the bean field. At the last possible second, it came to me to turn on the right magneto. Wow. God saved me again. After turning on the other magneto, the heavily loaded airplane was able to climb to about 50 feet, so I still had to fly around the tall trees and under the power lines for a few miles until I burned off some fuel. By the time I got to the field, the plane was light enough to maneuver to put the chemicals on the field. This is another of the lessons that I have been teaching my students. Never be in a hurry to get in the air.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

Lifeguard Flight

Normally when Podunk needed a backup flight, Roland would call and ask for me to bring the 172 and make a trip to one of the Podunk stops with baggage or passengers or both. Roland was usually in a hurry, but one day I was up flying a student in my 150 when Roland called. Skyler was working in the office at this time and got the call. Then Skyler called me on the two-way radio in our office and told me that Roland called for me to get over to the Lee C Fine Airport ASAP.

My first thought was that Roland was having a busy day. I called back on the radio and asked Skyler if he mentioned what I would be hauling. Skyler’s response was no, but that it didn’t really sound like Roland, and it seemed to be something more urgent than a usual call. I got the message that this was not a normal call. I told Skyler to tow our 172 out to the gas pump, fill it up with fuel, check the oil, and clean the windshield. I would be in as soon as I could.

The student I was flying with wasn’t soloed yet, but could taxi the airplane and park it. Skyler had the 172 ready when I landed in the 150. I told my student to park the airplane and I would log his flight lesson the next time we flew. I got out of the 150 on the ramp and got in the 172 while the 150 was headed to the parking area. I started the 172, and as soon as I was entering the runway, I had the throttle wide open. I lifted off and did a low-altitude turn toward the other airport. From Camdenton Airport to Lee C Fine, it is northeast, which lines up well with their runway 03, so I planned a straight-in landing on 03.

When I got there, I went to the back door to Roland’s office and noticed a lot of people standing in his office. The door was open. All this time, I didn’t know what to expect. After I made my way in, I saw Roland lying on the floor. He was still conscious. I asked him what was going on, and he told me he was having a heart attack. I asked him what he wanted me to do, and his response was to get him to Columbia as soon as possible and to the VA hospital.

Roland’s brother and Roland’s ex-wife, along with a number of others, were standing there, but no one was offering to help move him to my plane. At that time, I could pick up twice my weight and walk off with it, so I decided if they weren’t going to help me, I would load him myself.

I bent over and started to pick him up when his brother took my shoulder and told me to put him down. I really didn’t know what to do at this time. My friend was dying on the floor and begging me to take him to the hospital. His brother and the others weren’t going to let me move him. Roland’s brother said they had an ambulance coming, and they didn’t think he would make it in the plane.

I asked Roland again what he wanted me to do. Roland told me that he wouldn’t live long enough for the ambulance to get there, let alone long enough to get him to Columbia. I made up my mind that I was going to take him out of there unless they physically stopped me. I picked Roland up and was starting toward the door. His brother put his arms under Roland to help, and his ex-wife was helping by steadying his head. Others helped in different ways to get Roland in the plane. His ex-wife asked if she could go along. I told her, sure.

I closed the doors, started the engine, and turned to take off on the taxiway to the runway, but noticed a Beechcraft 99 airliner was taxiing out for takeoff on runway 03. I called on the radio for him to wait, as I was a lifeguard flight taking off on the taxiway with Roland. The Podunk pilot answered that he would wait until we were clear.

We got in the air in good time, made a steep low-altitude turn, and headed north to Columbia, Missouri. I left the throttle wide open to get him there as fast as an old 172 could go. I called ahead to the E. W. Cotton Woods Memorial Airport in Columbia and had them call an ambulance to be ready and to notify the VA hospital that I had a heart-attack patient onboard. Cotton Wood Airport had a north-south runway, and I planned a straight-in approach at the maximum possible speed.

I was about a mile out when I saw the ambulance drive in. Roland was still conscious and seemed glad to hear that we were at Columbia and that the ambulance was there. The medical team ended up doing four bypasses on Roland, and his surgeon told him that he had had less than fifteen minutes to live when they got him.

Cotton Woods Airport is gone now. I think it was opened when the city decided to close the original city airport that was in town. Columbia was going to build a regional airport several miles south of town. I believe that the Cotton Woods Airport was privately owned. The flight was a little over twenty minutes, and the ground ambulance would have taken over an hour to get to Roland and another three and a half hours to get to Columbia.

Roland not only lived through this, but he also got his flight physical back a few years later. Special note: When the airplane that I flew to Columbia had been checked for compression, they found a leaking exhaust valve that my mechanic said would have to be replaced soon as it wouldn’t pass another inspection without it. I couldn’t afford to overhaul a cylinder so I waited. I thought about that while taking Roland to Columbia and asked God to bless the engine that it would get us there.

Otherwise, I had no concern for the engine and made the whole trip at maximum power. The next day, I took my airplane to my mechanic’s shop. Fred checked the engine for compression and found all cylinders normal. Praise God for answering prayers – all that we ask for and above what we can imagine.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us (Ephesians 3:20).

Larry Goudy

Larry and his father owned G & G Marina on Lake of the Ozarks. Larry invited Sara and me to go with him to a Gideons meeting. We joined the Gideons and worked with them for a while. Larry was also one of my flight students. He went through our private pilot program and got his license.

Larry helped me with some fiberglass repairs on the hopper tank of my ag plane. One of the extras that God made available to Sara and me was through Larry. He offered us the best boats he had to take for a cruise whenever we wanted to. Larry was a dealer for several companies, but the Cobalts were the top of the line in cruisers that he had so we rode in style. I praise the Lord for such friends, and thank you, Larry.

Larry went with me on some of my flights when I had an extra seat and he was able to get off. Sara and I also went to church with Larry on occasions. He attended a church in Camdenton. Larry was well known in the city of Camdenton and helped me get some things from the city to improve the airport. Larry was a good friend and source of encouragement.

Reserve Police Officer

In our early days at the airport, I saw some dirt bikes tearing up our sod and endangering aircraft and people. I went to the police department and asked what they thought we could do. Without hesitation, their chief said he could make me a police officer, and I could take care of that problem. I had worked for Camden County for four years as a deputy prior to this time, so the city police knew me. The next time the problem arose, it was only one biker. I got in my 1973 Dodge pickup and drove out to where he was doing donuts in the grass.

When he saw me coming, he decided to outrun me. But he found out that he couldn’t outrun the old Dodge. He decided to jump some ditches and get away. The next thing the biker found out was that the old Dodge could also jump the ditches and outrun the bike while doing that. I passed the biker and slid to a stop right in front of him, displayed my badge, and he decided that the race was over.

After a talk, he apologized for the damage he had done and promised he wouldn’t do it again if I would let it go. I agreed with him and didn’t write him up. The biker problem was apparently over after they found out that I was a police officer and would chase them down. My experience as a biker and doing some nonstandard driving with cars and light trucks gave me the edge on this one. I must not leave out God’s protection.

What could have happened?

One of us could have made a wrong turn, and I might have run over the biker. I could have misjudged the terrain and nose-dived my truck into a ditch bank instead of clearing it. I could have rolled my truck. The biker could have done one of the above and gotten seriously injured and sued me for chasing him. I praise the Lord and thank my guardian angel.

CHAPTER 24

A Christmas Quick Trip

Don Russell, the owner of Galva Foam Boat Docks at Camdenton, purchased a 1960-model Cessna 310 and asked me to teach him to fly it and get his multi-engine land rating. Don already had his private-pilot airplane, single-engine land and was flying a Cessna 172 Club. Along the way, I got him through the training that he wanted in the 310, and he got his multi-engine rating. In exchange for my time, he offered me the use of his airplane, but I had to buy my own fuel.

Note: Don was a good student and learned to manage the twin Cessna very well. He could land and be slow enough to turn around in less than half of our 3,200-foot-long runway. When he landed with the Club Cessna 172, sometimes he would overrun the runway and end up in the grass at the end. It does make a difference what we are taught.

Christmas 1978 was coming, and I decided I would use the Cessna 310 and go visit family for Christmas. Our first stop was on Christmas Eve. We landed at Pittsfield, Illinois, to visit family there. On Christmas day, we planned to fly down to Blacksburg, Virginia, and visit Sara’s sister Becky. I checked the weather for the trip to Blacksburg, Virginia, and found that it would be clear and unlimited for visibility, and the jet stream had dropped unusually low to 12,000 feet. There was a pretty good possibility that we would be able to pick up a strong tailwind for our trip. Our three kids sat in the back seat. Skyler was fourteen years old and was already learning to do navigation problems for flight navigation. He had a plotter, a computer, and a chart.

After our takeoff, I headed en route to Blacksburg, set up a cruise climb, and noticed that the onboard Distance Measuring Equipment (DME) was indicating a very good ground speed as we climbed out. But as I got up higher than 12,000 feet, the analog DME indicator pegged out at 350 knots. This would be over 400 miles per hour. We were just leveling off at 13,500 as we crossed over the river by Paducah, Kentucky, and I asked Skyler if he knew where we were.

He looked down at the bend in the river and said it looked like Paducah. Then he said that by time, we couldn’t possibly be there yet. Skyler asked me to give him a cross fix with the VORs to confirm our current position. I asked him to give me the frequencies of the VOR stations he wanted me to use for the cross fix. After he gave the frequencies, I gave him the bearings from the stations. He did his cross fix on his navigation and came back that it was Paducah, Kentucky, that we were going over.

A while later, he calculated our ground speed, and it was over 350 knots at this altitude. The peak speed was only for a short time, but the overall speed was very good. With these calculations, the ground speed was approximately six nautical miles a minute. We were making exceedingly good ground speed for an airplane that cruises at about 170. Our ground speed was more than double that. The total trip time from Pittsfield, Illinois, to Blacksburg, Virginia, was two hours and sixteen minutes, and our total fuel consumption was around forty-two gallons. Overall, it was a very good, very fast trip for an old airplane. We had a great time visiting with Sara’s sister Becky and her family for the Christmas holiday.

I believe our average ground speed was around 230 knots, and our fuel burn was nineteen gallons per hour. It was a great trip – the fastest that I ever had between Blacksburg and Pittsfield.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart (Psalm 91:4).

CHAPTER 25

Disaster

During March of 1979, my friend Terry Beauatte called me and told me that he was way behind in getting the wheat fields top-dressed with ammonium nitrate and other things this year. He asked if I would come help him. The fields he needed to do were near Macon, Missouri.

I thought this sounded like an opportunity to get the year off to a good start, doing a few days with the Pawnee. I told Terry that I would help with this and asked him what I needed to bring. Without hesitation, he said to bring my airplane with the spreader on it, duh, and some duct tape, #16 nails, a claw hammer, and a piece of heavy rope. I had to ask why I needed the extras, and he answered that the hammer and nails were to put the farmers’ mailboxes back up, the duct tape was to repair my airplane fabric, and the rope was to pull my airplane out from between the road banks when I got stuck. I had already decided that this was going to be some nonstandard flying, but then he told me to land in his front yard, and he wouldn’t have to pick me up at the airport. Sounded okay to me.

We flew on several tons of nitrate and other chemicals with some seed in the mix. We seldom used the airport except for fuel. Overall it went well, and I didn’t need any of the extras Terry told me to bring. I managed to miss all the mailboxes and avoided landing where the road banks were too narrow. This was great bush pilot training that would be used in later years.

Then I got a call from a friend in Illinois, another pilot, who mentioned that he had a job top-dressing some wheat fields near Pleasant Hill, Illinois, and needed help with it. I went to help on that job, and we used Paul Carpenter’s landing strip for some of these operations. When we finished, we talked about how we were going to do some others in the area.

After consulting another pilot, he told me that we would have to fly the fertilizer from the Pittsfield Airport. That would make it a long haul. He asked me what I thought. I told him how we did it in the Macon, Missouri, area, and he thought that sounded good. We went to work getting some farmers lined up to manage the traffic on the county roads, and Richter’s brought the fertilizer to the planes. This all started very well, and we had hauled a number of loads without a problem. Then a Pike County deputy shut us down.

Time for another team talk. We were committed to getting the job done if we could, but couldn’t afford to fly all the loads from Pittsfield. One of the local farmers knew of a farmer south of Nebo who had an airstrip that we could use. That fixed that problem. There was a narrow place to fly through, and another pilot did drag a wingtip on a bank. It didn’t cause any damage. Perry’s plane had wingtips that turned down; mine turned up, so my plane went through okay, but Perry’s was close. Overall the job went well, and the customers were all happy. Another time to praise the Lord, for showing us how to get it done and keeping us safe at the same time.

Note: The ag plane operator in Pittsfield was a friend of the sheriff and was determined not to let us make a profit on jobs that he thought were his.

Plane Crash

On April 28, I did a job with my ag plane near Versailles, Missouri. I had put on 2,4-D Amine, which is an herbicide chemical. I put it on a wheat field to take out the broadleaf weeds. Sunday morning we got up and went to church in Camdenton and then went to the airport. I had a job scheduled to put Alpha Tox on an alfalfa field Monday morning.

I noticed a small tear in the fabric on the side of the cockpit on the Pawnee (my spray plane) and repaired it with super-seam glue and a small piece of fabric. A couple of hours later, I decided I needed to flush the spray system with detergent and water to get rid of any residue from the herbicide, which could have made the alfalfa sick and my customer unhappy. After loading the detergent and water in the hopper tank, I taxied the plane over to the fuel pump where Steve Butler (my assistant who nursed the airplane for me) filled the fuel tank with 80-octane fuel.

While servicing the Pawnee, I noticed that we had dandelions growing alongside the runway, so I decided to spray out the water, hoping that any herbicide left in the system would kill some of them. While flying with the detergent and water in the system, I made two passes, one on each side of the runway and had enough water in the tank to make a third run.

What happened

As I was making the third turn to head back to the field, while at the apex of the turn (about halfway through), the engine stopped dead.

The next few (very few) seconds, I saw that I was not going to make the runway, and I was lined up with our office building where my family and friends were. The runway was out of range to the left. The office building was possibly in range, but I didn’t want to go there, and to the right was a row of large trees that I didn’t want to hit. The next thing that became obvious was that the nose of the plane was pointed nearly straight down, and the airspeed was still below stalling speed.

I tested the elevator to see if I could get the nose up, and all I got was a stall. I eased off on the elevator to hopefully gain enough speed for one last attempt to get the nose up. As I was nearing treetop level, I pulled back on the elevator control, and the nose came up enough to clear the trees and head into a small clearing between two rows of trees following a line just to the right of the office building.

The airplane was completely stalled, and I was walking the rudder to keep it from going into a spin. The airplane hit the ground in a normal landing attitude, but with a lot more downward speed than it or I could withstand. The airplane slid 176 feet after impact; the engine was torn from its mounts; the fuel tank was thrown overboard (which kept the plane from burning); and the landing gear was ripped off. The seat I was in was crushed to the floor, and the floor that the seat was sitting on went to the belly skin, which by now was on the ground. The five-point military-type seat harness kept me from getting smashed on the instrument panel. The propeller struck the ground twice. The two strikes were 76 inches apart, and the blades were bent backward and turned in, which made it obvious that the engine was not developing any power on impact.

My structure sustained considerable damage as well. Sara called the ambulance, which came immediately. The ambulance crew didn’t notice that the fuel tank was back at the point of impact, thus eliminating any serious fire hazard or explosion. They dragged me right through the side of the plane, probably causing a lot more spinal cord damage than I already had. On the way to the hospital at Osage Beach, while going up the Linn Creek Hill, the rear door on the ambulance came open, and my stretcher almost rolled out the back. What a ride! The ambulance crew hadn’t secured the gurney inside the ambulance or latched the rear door. God was still watching over me. My brother Bryon followed the ambulance up that hill, or I would not have known about this.

Some people may wonder why God would still be caring for me. He had blessed me with so much, and I still was not living the Christian life that I should have been. Neither had I gone ahead with organizing the missionary pilot training organization.

I think the ambulance crew had seen too many movies about plane crashes and Hollywood explosions and were totally freaked out.

After the doctors checked me over, they told Sara there was nothing they could do for me. A lady nearby overheard what the doctors told Sara and suggested that Sara have the ambulance take me to UMC (University Medical Center in Columbia, Missouri). UMC is a training hospital, and they treat patients even if they think they are not going to live. I think the lady was an angel. Praise the Lord, as there was no hope at the hospital where I was.

When the ambulance arrived at UMC, it was 9:30 Sunday night, and Dr. Robert Gaines and his surgical team were there. I have been told how lucky I was to have the best back doctor and his team. I don’t believe in luck, but rather in miracles.

Dr. Gaines told Sara that my vitals were good, and I would probably live if my brain hemorrhage didn’t kill me, but I would probably never walk again because my back was crushed. I had a compression fracture of six vertebrae and a massive brain hemorrhage. My left arm and hand were paralyzed for some time. My right eye was turned into my nose. I had very little control of my legs or feet. I had lost bladder control (I couldn’t void my bladder without a catheter) and bowel control. Otherwise, I think I was in pretty good shape. Another doctor at a later time did an x-ray of my hips and told me that it looked like both of my hips had hairline fractures in them as well. I don’t just believe in miracles – I rely on them.

I had a hard time realizing that I was in a plane crash. I would often ask Sara what happened, and she would remind me that I was in a plane crash. Of the few visitors who came, some of the common greetings were, “Hi. How are you? I’ll bet you’ll never fly in another airplane.” I don’t know what makes people say things like that. It was pretty obvious that I was in a hospital and in bad condition, but statistics prove that even an ag pilot is much more likely to die in his car driving to or from the airport than in his airplane.

One day, the director of maintenance of the FAA, Bob Sternoeker (I think), called me and asked what happened. I had known Bob for a while now and knew that he would be in charge of the FAA investigation. I told Bob that I didn’t know what happened, but I was in a hospital and was told that I was there because of a plane crash. Then I told Bob that I would like to know what happened myself.

He responded first by saying that a witness had seen me doing a dope and fabric repair on the cockpit of the plane and that I was possibly doped from the glue fumes. I responded, okay Bob, if that is what you think happened, that suits me. Bob went on to say that the airplane struck the ground with a dead engine and in a full stall, but it was in a three-point attitude and didn’t touch the nose or either wingtip. Airplanes don’t fall out of the sky like that with a passed-out pilot. Bob went on to say that he believed that I flew that airplane all the way to the ground, and I did everything right or he wouldn’t be talking to me. Another note on this story is that God apparently wasn’t through with me yet – He put His hand under that airplane just enough to spare me one more time. I praise Him for that.

One of the things I teach my students is if you’re faced with a forced landing, fly the thing as far into the crash as possible. When a prang seems inevitable, endeavor to strike the softest, cheapest object in the vicinity as slowly and gently as possible. This was advice given to RAF pilots during World War II.

Home Again!

After several weeks on IVs and fifty-six days at UMC, I finally talked the doctors into letting me go home. They insisted I should stay for several more weeks, but did agree to release me to “nurse Sara’s” loving care. Thank God for Sara!

Note: Sara was with me all but three days that I was in the hospital in Columbia, Missouri, and home every night to take care of our children. This meant four or five hours a day on the road. She was my angel.

For five months in a back brace, I shot yellow jackets with a revolver for entertainment. Few people stopped to visit after my accident.

I thank God for Sara and my three children who had to help me with everything I did. I couldn’t get in or out of bed on my own, and I had to have help walking. At least I was able to eat and drink and had no more IVs.

For many years, I had enjoyed hunting and target shooting, but after the accident, I couldn’t hunt unless something came into my yard. The target shooting was a possibility as long as someone would help me get to a safe place to shoot. We had some persimmon trees, and the fruit they dropped was of interest to the yellow jackets. I had Sara and the children help me to the side of the house by the woods and get my Ruger revolver for me. I found that with a steady rest, I was able to shoot several yellow jackets with my .22 revolver, which was stress relieving and entertaining.

One of the hardest things for me at this time was that when we were at the airport, we had dozens of “friends” who hung out there and cut grass, cleaned windows, washed airplanes, and did lots of other chores. Now that I was crippled and at home, very few people came to see me for my benefit.

The poor are shunned even by their neighbors, but the rich have many friends. It is a sin to despise one’s neighbor, but blessed is the one who is kind to the needy (Proverbs 14:20-21).

Ronnie Kinnaird was one person who came by for a visit. Ronnie had been the preacher at the Christian Church in Camdenton when we started our airport operation there. He had some kind of heart trouble that required that he go to a Springfield hospital for treatment, so I drove him for the tests and treatment that he needed. While Ronnie was in the hospital, the three-member church board had fired him (very wrong). Two of the elders had been stealing from the church, and Ronnie knew about it so they decided to fire him while he was gone. One good elder had been opposed to it but had only one vote and could not stop what the bad elders were doing.

When Ronnie returned to church, he was told that he was fired. He asked the congregation to hear his side of what had gone on, and the congregation did, and asked him to stay. They did get rid of the bad elders, but Ronnie decided to leave anyway and went to Oregon to work as a used car salesman.

After Ronnie left, our church hired Joe as preacher. Joe was not the dedicated servant of God that Ronnie had been and immediately wanted to get a new church building. Our senior elder who financed the building we were in and some of the congregation were against the idea of going further in debt.

In the meantime, I was in the plane crash and at home. On a number of occasions, people that I thought were my friends would drive by and even wave at me, but not stop. Some would drive by and look the other way. This was really hard for me to cope with.

I was actually hospitalized twice – the first time because of injuries sustained in the plane crash and the second time for two weeks because of Joe. Joe came to my home soon after my first release from the hospital and after a day when I had been target shooting in the backyard. My revolver was beside my bed.

Preacher Joe started telling me how to manage my home, life, and business, and was very persistent. He ignored my requests for him to leave. Sara also showed him the door and asked him to leave. He then noticed my revolver beside my bed and left. Note: I never touched the revolver and made no threats of any kind.

Joe went to the Camdenton police station. I was a reserve officer for the city of Camdenton at that time. He told them that I had pulled a gun on him and shot at him and had been shooting out the streetlights in town.

The police called my brother Bryon and told him about Joe claiming that I had shot at him. Bryon told the police that it was a lie because if I had shot at Joe, he would not have made the report because he would have been dead.

Joe also contacted my brother and told him the same thing. Bryon told Joe that if I had shot at him, he would not be telling this story, and it was time for him to leave.

Apparently, the Camdenton police called the hospital in Columbia and told them that I had threatened Joe and was considered armed and dangerous. The hospital sent a request for me to come in for a checkup. Sara drove me to Columbia to the orthopedic clinic where they escorted me to a room and told me that Dr. Gaines would be along shortly. When the doctor showed up, two deputies came with him. They escorted me to the mental wing of the hospital and locked me in a padded room and forcefully strapped me to a bed. They gave me some liquid medicine by mouth, which I spit out. Then they gave me a shot that made me very sleepy. I don’t know where my family was at this time. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper. At this time, I didn’t even know about Joe’s report.

They held me in the psychiatric ward for two weeks. My bed was in a room with seven other beds in it, and all the other patients were known murderers and rapists. I didn’t sleep well.

Each day the shrinks would do a number of tests and ask a lot of questions. Each session would start with the doctor telling me a series of numbers, usually seven numbers, not in sequence. The sessions were typically a half-hour long and consisted of other conversation. Then at the end of the session, they would ask me to tell them the numbers they gave me at the beginning. Normally, I could repeat the numbers in their proper sequence.

After two weeks of this, they decided I was mentally stable and not a threat to anyone. The doctors did note that my ability to recall the numbers was exceptional and my mental capabilities were just normal. That proved that I had sustained brain damage. They didn’t have a clue that with the years of being a professional pilot, I had to develop the ability to memorize flight clearances and write them down later. This had enabled me to memorize their numbers for their tests. This also went on my records at the FAA, making it much more difficult to get my flight physical re-instated later.

It was now on my record that I had a mental problem, and that makes it impossible to pass a flight physical until tests are done to prove the person is mentally stable and no threat to the FAA system. Thanks a lot, Joe. (Re-instatement of my FAA flight physical will be in Book 3.) Most things that a doctor or preacher says are difficult to overturn with the truth.

Joe did get his new church building and started teaching charismatic things. The people who were Christian Church people all left, and the church could not pay for the note. They fired Joe. I don’t know who ended up with the building.

Friends

My pastor friend Ronnie Kinnaird did stop by, even though he was a used car salesman in Oregon. After the bad deal he had with the elders at our church, he got out of preaching, at least full time.

We had a picnic table sitting near Y Road where I spent many hours healing, thinking, and praying. One day a car that I didn’t recognize pulled into our driveway, and Ronnie Kinnaird and his wife got out and came to where I was sitting. To say I was thrilled would be an understatement. We had a great visit with Ronnie and his wife. I think she died several years ago. Ronnie did offer a lot of encouragement at a time that Sara and I certainly needed it. He was so disgusted with what those two elders had done to him that he had quit serving as a preacher.

After fifty-six days in the hospital at UMC in Columbia and five months at home with a back brace, we were still living at Lake of the Ozarks. Roland Tetley was also grounded because of health problems. He parked his Airstream next to our mobile home.

John Surgeon, my first flight instructor, had cancer. He called to encourage me and died before I saw him again.

It seemed like I too often let things go until it was too late. Then I’d realize that I didn’t do something important like thanking John for the special care and training he gave me that helped me to do the things that I did in aviation and for the “cheer-me-up” call after my accident. The FAA inspector said that I apparently did everything right or he wouldn’t be talking to me. Thanks, John.

My Crashed Pawnee

CHAPTER 26

BARF

There was an aircraft repair shop at Buffalo, Missouri – BARF (Buffalo Aircraft Repair Facility). It had the capability to repair my much-damaged Piper Pawnee. I had already purchased another Pawnee that had only minor damage for a parts plane or to be rebuilt someday. I took both planes to BARF. Dave, the owner of the shop, asked me if I wanted him to rebuild a wing that was badly damaged on both planes or if I wanted to see if I could get a better wing. I opted to look for another wing, which I found in the bootheel of Missouri. I think the name of the town was Campbell.

Four-Place Super Cub

The owner of BARF had the STC to modify a normal Piper Super Cub, which is a two-place airplane, in order to make it a four-place airplane. I took my wrecked Pawnee to BARF to get it repaired and while I was there, he had finished one of the four-place Super Cubs and was having his test pilot check it out. He offered me a chance to fly it with his test pilot.

At this time, I was still wearing a back brace and was cross-eyed from the crash, which could have made things a bit interesting, don’t ya know. The pilot asked which side I wanted to fly it from, and I told him it didn’t matter to me, so he gestured to the right side. He also asked me if I had ever flown a four-place Super Cub before. I told him that I had never even seen one before. I buckled up, and with the other pilot’s close attention, I started the engine and taxied out. I was having some doubts of my own at this point, but I didn’t have any fear of the flight as I had another pilot sitting next to me in case I got in trouble.

I lined up with the grass strip, opened the throttle, let the tail come up to where I thought it should be for the takeoff, and waited for it to lift off. Not long after the liftoff, the other pilot commented again, “You say you have never flown one of these before?”

I acknowledged that I had not. Then he said that the climb speed was exactly what is published in the manual for this plane. This was an encouragement to me and another, thanks to John Surgeon, because I couldn’t see the airspeed indicator and was flying the wing as John had taught me. Most of our light, general aviation airplanes climb at about the same angle, making it easy for someone who has been taught to use his God-given senses to fly the airplane. To establish a normal climb, level flight and glide are at the same pitch angle relative to the horizon when not using flaps or other drag-inducing equipment. The level flight angle at cruising speed is also the right angle for glide speed, or at least close enough for safety.

After a short flight, some slow flight and a stall, I headed back toward the airstrip. As we neared the strip, the young pilot sitting next to me seemed to be a bit tense, but he was sitting still and watching. I flew in and landed with no problems and once again, he questioned that I’d never flown one of these before. And I used the same answer for the third time. All thanks to John Surgeon.

It has been my standard method of training pilots to teach them the basics of flight and controlling the airplane using their God-given senses, then showing them what the speed and other instrument indications are supposed to be. So even though I hadn’t flown anything for several months, was wearing a back brace that was somewhat restrictive, and my eyes were crossed, I still felt at home in the airplane. At times I did close an eye to make sure I was looking at the right place.

What could have happened?

The worst-case scenario that I can come up with on this one is that I may have been unable to fly the airplane and the other pilot would have had to take it. The other pilot was introduced to me as the BARF test pilot, but I could see he was low-time and certainly not an instructor, but had experience flying this type of airplane.

BARF did get the Pawnee back together, and Sara drove me to Buffalo, Missouri, to pick it up. I flew old “Zeke” to the Camdenton Airport and parked it for a few days while I was trying to sort out what to do next. I still hadn’t accepted the fact that I was not airworthy and couldn’t use my airplanes anymore.

Back on a Farm

I taught Dr. Heritage (a veterinarian) to fly. Doc had real estate in various places around Lake of the Ozarks. He lived on a farm/ranch out in the country from Linn Creek, Missouri, and had an airstrip on his farm. I didn’t expect to ever be able to use my airplanes again, but Doc said I could move my planes to his strip. At this time, I had a Cessna 150 N10050, a Cessna 172 N19946, and a Pawnee N6944Z (old Zeke). Doc had a Piper Aztec at the time. I knew I needed to either use the airplanes or sell them. My first thought was to find a pilot for old Zeke, the Pawnee.

I Need Help

I knew Lillard Hedden, an old and very experienced ag pilot, who lived in Pekin, Illinois. I called Lillard to see if he knew of an ag pilot I could hire to fly my Pawnee. Without any hesitation, he said I should sell the airplane because a hired pilot will do at least one of the following: crash the airplane, get me written up by the FAA, or make the customer unhappy and I’d have to re-do jobs. He said hired pilots would steal from me by collecting for some of the jobs on their own. He gave other reasons why if I couldn’t fly the airplane myself, I should sell it.

However, it seems that I have had to learn a lot of things the hard way, including the one about hiring an ag pilot. I had worked with Terry, another ag pilot, who I knew had several years of experience in ag service. I also knew that he had totaled several airplanes. I had a job near Washington, Missouri, where we had to spray for bugs in a cornfield. Terry did the job, but he didn’t get the dosage right, and we had to do the whole job over. (Sounds familiar, doesn’t it.)

Next I tried Jeff who was a pro pilot I had known for a while. The sign company hired him to fly the Seneca II. Jeff was a commercial pilot with no ag experience, so I taught him how to do the jobs. This required having him make spray runs in the airplane, teaching him how to make the turns, do the emergency dumps, and sign his logbook that I had given him for this training.

I had a small job near Versailles, Missouri, and had planned to have Jeff do it. Old Zeke was parked at Dr. Heritage’s strip just a few miles south of the Grand Glaize Airport at Osage Beach. The FAA liked coming to Osage Beach to do ramp checks and stay at the Tan-Tar-A Lodge. I had told Jeff not go to Osage Beach under any circumstance because the FAA could be there.

I had my ag operator license in my truck, which also had the chemicals on board, and was going to meet Jeff at the airport near Versailles. Jeff was so proud of being an ag pilot that he felt he had to go to Osage Beach to show his friends at the airport that he was flying an ag plane. You guessed it. The FAA was there and did a ramp check. They wrote Jeff up for flying an ag plane without an ag operator license and the necessary logbook signoff. I was at the airport at Versailles and had waited for over an hour when Jeff finally showed up. Jeff told me about his being delayed by the FAA.

Note: FAR Part 137, which covers ag operators, states that the certificate and other required documents (Jeff’s logbook) had to be at the base of operations. I had all the required papers with me in my truck, which was at the base of operations. Up to this point, we had not performed any ag operations, as the chemicals were still in my truck. The flight was just a normal, not-for-hire flight in a single-place, light plane with a commercial pilot at the controls. My tax dollars at work again. This made it two out of three things that my friend Lillard Heddin said would happen. The third one happens in Book 3. Then I sold the airplane.

After some phone conversations and some mail with the FAA, they finally decided that no violations had occurred and let it go. (Sound familiar?)

Roland Tetley found a place at Trask, Missouri, and suggested that since neither of us could fly, and probably never would again, we should move to the same area. His realtor had sixteen acres with a couple of houses, a garage, and other buildings on it that he might trade for my Lake of the Ozarks property.

We Have a Convoy!

“We have got us a convoy!” Skyler tried to cheer us up over the CB radio as we pulled out of our driveway. He had received his driver’s license just the previous week, and a friend of my dad had given him a car with a CB radio. The role of being man of the house had been thrust upon him, but he stepped up to the plate and batted.

It must have been midnight. Sara drove our Chevette; Skyler drove his 1966 Coronet; Roland drove his Dodge truck; and I drove our 1973 Dodge pickup towing our homemade sixteen-foot, flatbed trailer. All of us had CB radios except Roland.

We moved to our Mountain View, Missouri, home on August 8, 1980. Sara had worked a sixteen-hour shift at the restaurant at Dogwood Hills Golf Resort that day. The trip to Mountain View took all night with rain for a lot of it.

The entire trip was long, and we had some water damage and some scrapes, scratches, and dings on stuff. By the end, we were all very tired. Moving has a way of damaging things and wearing people out.

The flying chapters had closed on this part of our lives. It was the end of an era. It felt like the end of the book. We drove away from what we loved and headed to the unknown. Unknown to us, but not to God. He was not finished with us yet.

It was almost daylight when we pulled into our driveway at our new-to-us home. After working a double shift and then driving another twelve hours, Sara was weary, as we all were. But it was another time to praise the Lord. I also thanked God for Sara. The sun was rising on a new adventure.

I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint (Jeremiah 31:25).

Aviator Words of Wisdom

When a flight is proceeding incredibly well, something was forgotten.

When a prang seems inevitable, endeavor to strike the softest, cheapest object in the vicinity as slowly and gently as possible – advice given to RAF pilots during World War II.

If you want to grow old as a pilot, you’ve got to know when to push it and when to back off – Chuck Yeager.

Stay out of clouds. The silver lining everyone keeps talking about might be another airplane going in the opposite direction. Reliable sources also report that mountains have been known to hide out in clouds.

A pilot begins his flight career with a bag full of luck and an empty bag of experience. The trick is to fill the bag of experience before you empty the bag of luck.

Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment. We know experience can be summed up as the total of mistakes one has made. To say one has a lot of experience is to say that he has made a lot of mistakes. With this in mind, I can assure you that I have a lot of experience.

There are three simple rules for making a smooth landing. Unfortunately no one knows what they are.

As you have seen, I have had to learn a lot of things the hard way.

Epilogue

I didn’t write this book to impress anyone on anything other than to listen to God’s directions and then do whatever He is telling you to do. As you have read, I got myself into some very bad situations because of doing my own thing instead of what God was nudging me to do.

One of the chapters in this book is entitled “A Voice in the Storm.” I don’t want to leave anyone with the impression that I did the right thing and was in control of the situation, but rather that I was very intent on listening to the controller and flying the path he directed exactly. On far too many occasions, I heard God’s still small voice directing me, and I failed to follow His directions.

Why is it we will listen to a person whom we don’t know and will not listen to the God that created everything and gave us life? I do want to acknowledge that it was God’s hand lifting and guiding that tiny airplane through this mega storm and brought us out on top where we could see His handiwork.

On another trip, I flew a 1947 Cessna 170 that had been totaled once and rebuilt. God guided this old airplane across the Rocky Mountains, the Desert Southwest, the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and on to Santa Barbara, California.

On our return trip, He directed me to turn away from the west side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains when the little airplane could not climb against the massive downdraft caused by the Santa Ana winds a few miles north of Los Angeles. After turning west and flying down the Santa Ynez Valley for about forty miles, the little airplane broke out of the downdraft and was once again able to climb.

Once again, it was God’s hand that was guiding and lifting this tiny old airplane to get us over the mountains and back to Missouri. Praise God for His deliverance. I could write a lot more in here, but I think this makes my point. I am alive not because of my power and wisdom but by God’s grace and mercy.

Author’s Testimony

Lionel Smith – Founder of Christian Wings for the World, Inc.

I opened an FBO at Camdenton, Missouri, in March of 1978, providing air taxi service, flight training, banner towing, aircraft rental, aerial photo flights, sightseeing rides, and ag plane services, as well as managing the airport for the city, which included everything from pumping gas, cutting grass, pushing snow, and many other duties. I was busy. Business was also very good. At this time, my wife worked with me at the airport when she could, but she also worked at another full-time job and took care of our three children, Skyler, Robert, and Kayla. Sara was very busy.

The Lord called me (I do believe in divine calling) to start a ministry to provide missionary pilot training and air support for missionaries in third-world countries in the fall of 1978.

I heard the call and started making plans. I drew sketches and made notes pertaining to new hangars, classrooms, a parts room, and new aircraft that would be necessary for the ministry, but then I became too busy making money and having fun to have time for God.

The year 1979 started off really good. I had students flying; my air taxi business was active; I had banner-tow contracts for the summer; and my ag plane business was getting scheduled for a great year. My family was all healthy. My three kids were in school. Oops, you guessed it. I wasn’t doing anything for missionary support. I took my family to church on Sunday and was putting money in the plate when it came by (probably not enough). But God expects us to be willing to give ourselves.

Fast forward to one day during the summer of 1993, when I sat down in my office and closed the door. With no one else in the room, I heard these words – REMEMBER 1978. I certainly did!

Second Call/Reminder of the First!

After my goose bumps (Jesus bumps) and hair settled back down, I started calling around looking for a place where I could get the specialty training that I needed to be able to give that type of training to others.

I am going to say the Lord clearly led me to the Tribal Air and Communication number on that list (New Tribes Mission).

The point I would like to leave you with is that if God calls, it is time to go where He has called you (Ephesians 4:11-13). Remember, the Great Commission is not an option to be selected; it is a command to be obeyed (Mark 16:15).

We don’t always get a second chance. The first doctors said there was nothing they could do for me, but the next ones changed that to I would probably live, but probably never walk again (only God knew).

I got a second chance, and I am not going to try for a third. I am now walking and flying for the Lord.

About the Author

Lionel Smith was born December 6, 1942, and grew up in west-central Illinois in a farming community doing farm work and operating bulldozers, draglines, gravel plants, and other equipment. He did custom work for farmers, but also some contract work for road districts and other municipalities.

Lionel has been a pilot for most of his life, having logged over 8,500 hours of flight instruction given with dozens of pilots, including specialty training for flight instructors, seaplane pilots, aerobatic pilots, missionary pilots, and others. Lionel’s total flight time is around 20,000 hours. He is a certificated flight instructor for airplanes: single- and multi-engine land and single-engine sea, and is an instrument flight instructor and a multi-engine flight instructor. Lionel’s flight experience has included missionary support flights to other countries, missionary pilot training, air taxi, commuter airline, agricultural application, fire patrol, and photo flights. He has also flown reporters to cover for radio and TV, Civil Air Patrol search-and-rescue missions, mercy flights, flights for conservation for spotting game poachers, hauling skydivers, and many other types of service. Lionel is also a certificated aircraft mechanic with inspector authorization. Lionel is founder, chief pilot, and director of Christian Wings for the World, which is an aviation mission that trains missionary pilots and provides mercy flights and other services.

Lionel served as a Sunday school teacher in classes for early teens to senior adults, led Bible study sessions, served as a deacon for several years, and was later elected to serve as an elder for a number of years at the First Christian Church in Mountain View, Missouri. Lionel was ordained to the preaching ministry in June of 2008 at Community Christian Church (“CCC”) in Farmington, Missouri. He is currently serving as an elder at CCC in Farmington.

For more information about Christian Wings for the World (CWW) or about Lionel and Sara Smith, write to:

Christian Wings for the World

736 Dillard Road

Ironton, Missouri 63650

Phone: 573-734-2649 (office); Fax: 573-734-2679

Lionel Smith, Founder and President

Or check our website at www.christianwings.org

The purpose of CWW is to supplement and amplify the effectiveness of the church by providing air transportation for missionaries in the field and to provide the specialty training necessary for pilots and mechanics to operate in third-world-country conditions.

Christian Wings for the World is an international ministry. Some of our students come here from as far away as Indonesia. Students trained by CWW are serving our Lord in various places around the world.

If you feel led to support our Lord’s missionaries, through providing air support or the specialized training that is provided by CWW, please pray for Christian Wings for the World. If you are able to help financially, CWW is a tax-exempt organization under 501(c)(3). Our staff also needs personal support. I believe the things that happened to me in this book were a gift from God “That I may see more clearly.”

I want to encourage you to be watching for Part 3 of His Wind Beneath My Wings to be coming soon.

Glossary

Ag pilot: A pilot who has been trained or learned to operate an ag plane doing the dispersal activities that are done in agricultural operations.

Ag plane: An airplane that has special equipment mounted on it to enable it to disperse farm chemicals on fields. This type of equipment is also used for insect control over populated areas.

Bonfire airway system: Sometime in the late 1910s, bonfires were set off at specified times for the night mail planes to be able to fly to. These fires were placed along the routes that the mail planes were to fly. The bonfire system was replaced with electric beacon lights in 1920.

CAP: Civil Air Patrol. A civilian group of pilots who perform search-and-rescue missions; also a civilian part of the air force.

Cessna 150: A two-seat, 100-horsepower airplane that I believe was at one time the most commonly used training airplane in the country.

CFI: Certified flight instructor.

ELT: Emergency locator transmitter is a small self-contained radio that is designed to be activated on impact and to transmit a signal that can be located by search teams.

Constant speed propeller: A constant speed propeller is one that has the capability of changing its pitch angle in flight. The pitch angle is regulated by a governor attached to the engine and is controlled by the pilot to maintain a selected engine speed. Once set in flight, the airspeed can be changed, but the engine speed will not change unless the throttle setting is lowered to the point where the governor disengages, normally around 15” of manifold pressure.

FBO: Fixed base operator/operation. The fixed base operator is the primary provider of support services to general aviation operators at a public-use airport.

Feathered: When an engine fails on a multi-engine airplane, the propeller is feathered. Feathering a propeller is where the blades are turned to knife-edge the oncoming air to reduce drag so that the operating engine(s) can carry the load better.

Flaps: This normally refers to wing flaps, but could refer to cowl flaps, etc. Wing flaps were brought in to the aviation scene. Wing flaps are hinged surfaces on the trailing edge of wings on a fixed-wing aircraft. The flaps can be lowered to add lift and drag to enable steeper descents. They can also enable steeper climbs as well. The settings are normally different for a landing than for a takeoff.

Flight levels: Above 18,000 feet, all aircraft are required to have their altimeters set to 29.92, and then, instead of operating at 20,000 feet, the pilot operates at flight level 200 or whatever is appropriate.

God-given senses: Sight, sound, and feel.

Ground effect: A phenomena experienced when very close to the ground. A cushioning effect is produced that allows the airplane to remain airborne at lower-than-normal speeds when at an altitude which is equivalent to less than the wingspan of the airplane. Ground effect occurs as a result of the ground interfering with wingtip vortices and reducing downwash and induced drag.

Holding pattern: A pattern, often circular, flown by a plane as it waits for clearance to land.

ILS: Instrument Landing System is a precision guidance for both direction and descent and includes an initial approach fix/location normally by a radio beacon and a final fix, which is a decision location where the pilot must either continue to a landing or abandon the approach.

Impulse coupling: A spring-loaded device on the drive end of a magneto that retards the spark timing and momentarily increases the spark intensity to start the engine.

Lifeguard flight: This is a term that a pilot who is flying an emergency flight with a patient uses to notify others that he is on a life-saving mission and gives him the right of way.

Little headwind: When referring to a headwind, it simply means that the air mass is going to some degree opposite the direction of the aircraft. If in flight, the headwind will slow the ground speed of the aircraft, which will cost extra time and fuel. If taking off or landing, a headwind is desirable as it reduces the ground roll for takeoff or landing. In the instance mentioned in this book, it mainly means no tailwind or calm to 5 knots of headwind.

Magneto: An electrical generator that uses permanent magnets to produce periodic pulses of alternating current. (Wikipedia)

Maneuvering speed: There are a couple of definitions – I will use the simpler one: It is the speed at which full and abrupt control deflection can be applied without exceeding the design load limit. In other words, the airplane will stall before the wings come off if you hit a bad bump.

Missed approach: When an approach cannot be continued to a successful landing, a go-around is flown.

Oversize tires: This would imply tires larger than the aircraft would normally have. Example: A Cessna 180 would normally have a set of main gear tires of 6.00 x 6; oversize could be 8.00 x 6 for operations on soft or rough strips. In special applications, you may see what they call “tundra tires” which are very large.

PAPI: Precision approach path indicator is a light system that provides visual glide slope indication using a single row of two or four light units.

Pre flight inspection: An inspection, normally done by the pilot in command prior to boarding the airplane for flight. It is normally done by following a check list and covers necessary items from the ground up, including tires, brakes, air frame, fuel and oil and any other items the manufacture thinks is necessary for the type of aircraft in use.

Abbreviated preflight: This is one where the pilot has performed a full preflight recently, as in earlier the same day. He would now go back and do a shortened version of a preflight, checking the most prominent items and looking the airframe over to make sure it hasn’t been damaged by anything.

Quick turn stop: Typical example for this one: The flight plan is filed and you need to stop for fuel and let the people make a relief stop, then get back in the air. In the story in this book a bad storm added urgency to the quick turn.

Sea level engine: A reciprocating aircraft engine having a rated takeoff power that is producible at sea level only (McGraw-Hill Dictionary of Aviation).

Spin: A spin in a fixed-wing aircraft is referring to an aggravated stall with rotation. The airplane’s path would be vertical relative to the earth; the airspeed would be stalling speed or very near it. One wing is stalled while the other is generating some lift, which is causing the rotation. If the airplane is kept in a stall, the speed will not increase after the full speed is developed – normally after two revolutions. The airplane’s pitch angle is going to be approximately 60 degrees pitch down.

STC: Supplemental Type Certificate. All certificated aircraft are issued a type certificate when the FAA certifies them, and as modifications are made for the aircraft and if the FAA approves the modification, they issue an STC to approve the modification.

Synchronized engines: On a multi-engine aircraft, it is necessary to get both engines running as close to the same speed as possible. Otherwise, you get an annoying oscillating roaring out-of-sync noise.

VOR: VHF omnidirectional radio range is a type of short-range radio navigation system for aircraft, enabling aircraft to determine their position and stay on course by receiving radio signals transmitted by a network of fixed-ground radio beacons with a receiver unit. It uses radio frequencies in the very high frequency (VHF) band from 108 to 117.95 MHz.

You don’t need much room: In this reference, a normal light airplane, typical in general aviation, would require 1,000 feet, plus or minus, for a normal takeoff. This reference is referring to a lot less than that for a takeoff with a normal airplane.

Photo Credits

A special thanks to the following people who furnished some of the aircraft pictures in this book:

Ron Dupas for the pictures of Ercoupe, Texan, Bamboo Bomber, SeaBee, Champ, and Maule M-4 from 1000aircraftphotos.com. http://1000aircraftphotos.com/1000aircraftphotos.htm

Graham Peterson for the picture of the 1956 Cessna 310

http://1000aircraftphotos.com/Contributions/Peterson/Peterson.htm

William T. Larkins http://www.airport-data.com/photographers/Bill+Larkins:307:1.html

Detlef Billig for the picture of the Cessna 310Q http://1000aircraftphotos.com/Contributions/Billig/Billig.htm

Doug Duncan for the picture of the Seneca II

http://1000aircraftphotos.com/Contributions/DuncanDoug/DuncanDoug.htm

Timothy Aanerud for the picture of the Curtiss Robin

http://www.airport-data.com/aircraft/photo/000029600.html

Wikipedia http://www.wikipedia.org/ for the pictures of Cessna 206, Huey, PBY Catalina, Cessna 185 on floats.

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His Wind Beneath My Wings, II – Lionel Smith

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