It's hard to say when I first wanted to be an airline pilot. I did, however, want to fly at a very early age... Because of this man... My hero... Dad.
The second oldest of 5 boys and one girl. Dad was raised on a farm in New York state. He was awarded a full scholarship to Loyola University and he was going to be the first in the family to go to college. But life was not kind to this teenage boy and to many others in the aftermath of the Great Depression.
The family farm was repossessed. The Sheriff would not let the family back in to get their clothes and personal things. To add insult to injury this young boy's Dad waved goodbye to the family and drove off in a new Buick convertible with a flashy blond woman. This left a wife and 6 children homeless.
Dad and his older brother were taken in by a neighbor, where they slept in the barn and worked on that farm for food. For money, the two brothers sold the newspaper. They got to keep one penny for each the daily paper sold and a nickel on the Sunday paper. His mom and the 4 younger kids moved in with family. His mom remarried 4 times and each of those 4 husbands died... she finally gave up on men... except for dancing. She was an elegant and very beautiful lady... and very kind in my book. One of the younger brothers would often speak of my parents as being parents to him.
Eventually Dad worked for Standard Oil and also in a butcher shop. This is were Mom and Dad met as teenagers. Mom recalled laughing with her sister about the cute "Butcher Boy." Mom worked in a "Dime Store." They were married and then came World War II. Dad joined the Army Air Corp and went through pilot training in Texas.
In 1943 they had a baby girl, my sister, Nancy Lou and Dad left to fight the war in Europe.
Dad flew P-47's and later P-51's as they replaced the P-47. He was successful... he stayed alive. He got credit for shooting down 5 German ME-109's... although 2 of them were listed as "probables", since they had entered clouds and the crash or breakup was not on film. It took 5 confirmed kills to become an ace and he didn't make ace. Over half of the pilots in his unit did not survive.
I have the badly deteriorated 16 mm gun film from Nancy June (his aircraft). It shows the shoot down of two Me-109's and the extremely low level strafing of a train. The train blows up and Dad has to maneuver quickly to avoid a row of trees. I have seen a movie clip on the TV Series "Wings" that may be his gun film. Below is his official story of that day as written by the Air Corp, and later typed out by my Dad and signed. I have the original Air Corp press release (fragile onion skin paper) that was sent to and printed in many newspapers. The media used to supportive of the military back then.
This is the story of his shoot down of two ME-109's
In the 1990's his two youngest brothers commissioned an artist to paint the story... the artist did not get it right but to those that knew the story the meaning was there.
Dad on the wing of Nancy June the 3rd. Nancy June the 1st was a P-47. Nancy June the 2nd crashed and burned. This is the replacement.
Nancy June the 2nd had the engine fail right after takeoff and had a massive oil leak obscuring the canopy. He could only see a little out the side of the canopy and the engine continued to splutter and just barely run. Dad was almost back to the field when the engine quit completely and he still had to make it over the last row of trees. The aircraft stalled and fell out of the sky right as he cleared the trees. The wings broke off and the plane caught on fire. The airplane was full of fuel, including the rubber axillary tank right behind his seat (for the mission to Germany). The fire crew was standing by for his emergency landing. Dad was trapped in the cockpit but the fire crew used crash axes and crow bars to get the canopy open and pull Dad out. He was not burned due to 3 layers of clothing he wore to stay warm. He always said: "British flying leathers saved my life."
The bottom photo of the page below is of Dad's wrecked plane. Somewhere there is another photo of him squatting and firing a small fire extinguisher at the flames...
Dad took a week off to recover but his back always bothered him after that accident.
The war in the European theater was over and Dad came home but was getting ready to go fight Japan in the Pacific when Japan surrendered.
Dad in the leather jacket on Tojo-Peach ready to go fight the Japanese.
Dad did not talk of these stories. Most were told through others, in books that were a collaboration of the brotherhood of survivors. At his funeral I learned more. I wish he had opened up more but I know why he didn't...
When I was growing up Dad almost always had a company plane that he flew all over the US selling large irrigation systems. I flew with him as often as I could and was deep into airplanes by 10 years old. Soon I was reading every flying publication that Dad brought home. I memorized the different airplanes and engines like some of my friends were memorizing cars.
This is the biggest airplane we ever owned... Beech 18
We owned quite a few airplanes... all single engine Cessnas... Except for 3 Beechcraft G-18's
- C-180
- C-172
- C-195
- C-182
- C-210
I remember my first Airline flight was on a TWA Super Constellation from Albuquerque to LAX. I was about 12 years old.
The first airline pilot I met was a Pan American Captain (they wore white hats) who flew all around the world... I remember being in awe of his stories.
On my 16th birthday my Dad gave Mac McCreery (he owned the local Cessna Dealership in McAllen) $100 to teach me how to fly. That very first flight with Mac I took off and about 500 feet in the air he pulled the power back to idle and said: "what are you going to do?" A few long seconds later I was gliding back down to a field, and after descending several hundred feet he pushed the power back up and said: "Always be looking for a place to land". I can not tell you how many times he did that to me and how close I got to landing in a field. That was permanently etched in my mind at that moment and I would never ever forget those words. Even as a passenger nowadays I find myself looking for good places to land...
Eight flight hours later I flew solo for the first time. No one really knew I had soloed. It was a non event... I don't remember talking about it with anyone other than my Dad.
Girls were on my radar and flying and girls were both expensive... I chose girls. Being an airline pilot was an unknown career path to me and I drifted away from flying.
Another war came along as did the draft. I had to go to war... I chose the Air Force and a few years later the airline dream resurfaced. Almost 9 years later I was ready for the airlines and the dream became reality.
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