On a Sunday

I'm an old crow's feet aviator now. I guess I'm just two generations away from the barnstormers in a way. But my dad was too old for battle in WWII and was an instructor of Army Air Corp Cadets. He was born in 1903, the year of the Wrights. He got his first plane ride in a Jenny. So did my mom. So I'm almost one generation from the barnstormers. About 33 years ago I was working on the Airmail. I spent every other weekend at the New River Valley in Virginia. One Sunday it was open house at the airfield. The locals were there in droves. The weather was gorgeous. Many of the locals watched from their cars. Others hung on the fence. The brave ones came in and asked questions. "Now that you've come down, will you rise again?" "Why do they jump out of the plane when it don't crash?" Having been a suburbanite all my life I was as awed by the spectators as they were by me. Although there was no airshow per se, there was plenty to see. There were the skydivers. Running two jump planes. An FBO airplane giving rides. Two gyroplanes whipping back and forth down the runway. Some local pilots out for Sunday flights. A biplane from Blacksburg. The mailplanes just sitting on the ramp, and folks walking around them. And barbeque. And the skydivers partying with the college kids. And my Citabria. I had no intention of doing anything at the open house, other than eat food with the skydivers and check out the college girls. But my buddy Pablo wanted to do some flying and was building up his hours. So he started giving rides in my Citabria for five dollars. Pretty soon people were coming up to me and handing me five dollars. They wanted to be next in line for a ride in the red and white "stunt plane". After about two hours of this, I found out that Pablo was giving each customer a "loop" during the ride. During refueling I was able to talk to Pablo and I told him giving loops on every ride was pretty illegal. No parachutes, no airspace box etc. He said, "Look Luther, you're selling rides to the public. I have no commercial license, you have no commercial insurance. Loops are the least of our problems". "Yea Pablo. But look you got to cut these rides shorter or I'm losing money". He took a bathroom break and got a coke and a candy bar and jumped back into the plane. I left my friend Leo to collect five bucks per person and help strap them in. I went back to the "drop zone party" and the girl in the tank top that I was trying to convince to let me show her my mail plane. We kept hearing that this jumper named "Crazy Denny" was going to fly his "bat wings" for the event. He did show, but the wings weren't that effective and it was too far up to really see what he was doing. But he did actually have wings for the free fall. This was before webbed jump suits. Before ultra lights. At the dawn of square parachute rigs. As I looked around the New River Valley Airport that day I saw a spectacle that was a real aviation phenomenon. I felt like a barnstormer, and I knew it was as close as I was going to get. Right at the peak of it all, a rumor was circulating through the crowd. The rumor was that the FAA was on the way to New River Valley! If you are a pilot, or an aircraft owner, you better not ignore such a rumor. After I heard this, the first thing I saw was "Crazy Denny" scrambling around with his gear and getting the bat wings into his truck. In five minutes he was driving away. Pablo was in the air with a ride. The Citab had a radio, but I doubted Pablo was using it. So my plan was just to stop Pablo after this ride. In the meantime, I went to "Jumper John" who ran the drop zone. "John, is it true? The Feds?" He replied, "OH Yea, we're packin' up. Even though other than Crazy and some experimental shit, I'm mostly legal". "But John, maybe it's just a rumor. How do you know they're coming"? "We know. Mel, with the gyrocopter, he's got a sister or something at the Charleston General Aviation District Office. We even know which inspectors are coming!" I looked across the field and I saw the gyros being put quickly into the hangars and no one else flying. I also saw Pablo on final. I started running the half mile to the ramp. He taxied up. We got his passenger out. "Pablo, ramp checks! Get this plane outa here. Fly over to Blacksburg. Park and call me every hour. Stay outa here." "Whatever you say boss", he replies. I walked his passenger back to the parking lot. The locals in their cars were all packing up and leaving. They didn't want to stay around either. Nothing more to see. And apparently the "cops" were coming. I went to the office. It was Sunday. All closed except the line guy who had sold a lot of gas today. I wanted to lock up my mail plane. I had never done that. I asked Doug the line boy about it and he said he could lock it but it was no use, because Wayne (the other mail pilot) was willing to talk to the Feds and show them whatever they wanted, including my mail plane. Wayne was a very good friend to me and had helped me learn a lot. And a decorated Vietnam vet too. But he was the kind of guy who would remind the teacher that she had forgotten to assign the homework. Well, I didn't want to be standing around when the feds came and I had no car. And my Citab was over at Blacksburg. So I just started walking down the airport road towards town. The airport was a ghost town. An hour ago it had been teaming with activity. At the drop zone, not one car in the parking lot. I cut across the "peas" which is the spot where they touch down under canopy. I intercept the main road and I see a black sedan with two men in it. I eyeball them as they drive by, but they don't slow down to look me over. Have fun guys. You fixed it so it's safe at New River today. No accidents, no flying. And if you expect to build up your ego by intimidating pilots, you'll be sorely disappointed when you meet my friend Wayne. It's still early. Jumper John will be having a nice party right now. About a three mile walk. I doubt the tank top girl will be there, but you never know.