For Sunday, we decided to get up and leave the hotel early so we could hopefully beat the air show rush for once. We had yet to get to the plane before the opening jump with the American flag, the four Stearman, and the Mustang flight. This time, we had a lot more success. We ended up not getting stopped by traffic at all, just slowed down a bit right as we got to the gate. We thought we were doing well, until we realized the line of people to get into the gate Was Not Moving. We stood there for a minute or two, and then I decided…why not? The Steenkin’ Badge (as we call it) had worked wonders the previous two days at bypassing lines, but the problem was that only one of the four of us today had a real badge, and the others were wearing the Mustangs and Legends Gathering lanyards I had appropriated for them from Flight Ops and a badge I’d made at home and laminated at Staples to identify us crewmembers. I walked past all the people standing in line, and went up to the lady in a military uniform and asked how long before they opened the gates to let people in. (The answer, which she didn’t know, was 15 more minutes, which I didn’t want to wait through.) I held up my badge and said “Can I get through?” She didn’t know what to do and basically said “Ummmm”, so I polished it off with an official-sounding “We need to get in to the plane.” She looked around and then said “Okay, come on in” and waved me under the rope. I held up a hand and said “I have several people with me”, and waved allll the way back in line to Chuck, Steve and Kaylee, who made the long walk up next. We all just walked through like we were supposed to be there, and the security lady was next. I had two bags and only one set of credentials, but she said “You have badges?” and I 
showed her mine, she glanced at the others’ matching lanyards, and we were in without a search of property or a halt. We were marching along feeling rather accomplished when a man in a golf cart stopped next to us and offered us a ride all the way to the plane. The ramp is over 2 ½ miles long end to end. Thank you Very Much, kind sir! So we hopped the golf cart and rode in style up to the plane. Now THAT was the way to arrive at the air show, and we even beat the opening jump this time. ;)
It was a really busy day. The crowds were huge these last two days. I’m not sure of final numbers, but somebody said over 100,000 people on Saturday and I’d guess Sunday was somewhere around there too. We answered a lot of questions on the plane, wandered around a bit to look at displays and other planes, and answered more questions on the plane. Steve was polishing on the Mustang when someone stopped and decided that was a great shot, and posed him. You know, “put your hand here, your leg down, very nice.” I think I snorted when he told me that. He let the guy know he wasn’t the pilot, but the guy didn’t care, he said it was a great shot anyway. Chuck got to sign a guy’s program under the plane’s photo. He too said “I’m just a polisher here” and the guy said “I don’t care. Sign here.” And as for me, I got my photo taken too. A lady with two boys came up, and she said that one of the boys had a poster of Nate’s plane, and it was his favorite, and she asked me if I ever got to ride in it. I said yes, and that they sometimes call me GIB, or “Girl In Back”. She sent the boys over to me and said “Boys! Go stand by her and I’ll take your picture with an official GIB with the plane in the background!” They come over, stick their thumbs up and give a big ole grin, so why not—so did I. ;)
Nathan signed a lot of programs too, and answered the most questions. It’s an education just sitting there under the wing listening to the former pilots of these airplanes come up and chat about it, or warbird enthusiasts coming up with all sorts of questions. Usually one of us knew the answer, but when we didn’t, we’d refer them to Nathan. Steve had a different plan for awhile. When he didn’t know the answer, he’d send them over to Chuck and tell them Chuck was the Crew Chief. Chuck didn’t know this for awhile, but when he caught on at the group of folks being sent his way, I guess he told a few people that “Somebody over there is blowing smoke at you.”
The most amazing thing that happened that day though was when one at a time, three of the pilots who flew with Herky Green (the Major with 18 kills whose plane Nathan’s was painted to represent) and one of the pilots that actually flew in Herky’s airplane came up to the plane all at once. Two of the three are Aces. Art Fiedler, John Gaston, and Barrie Goldman are the three WWII fighter pilots who were there. Seeing them all three together at this plane that was in the Fighter Group they flew, the 325th, was an amazing piece of history. A group of people formed around them, and the three of them started signing autographs on the tail of the Checkertail Clan Mustang in a line. It was a true moment of history. I don’t know how long they stood there signing, but it was a LONG time. Finally we got a ladder, and we got them all up on the Mustang. One would sit in the cockpit, and the others would lean over, and it was like a switch went off in them, and they were 20 years old and invincible again. They started remembering and talking about missions, about how the cockpit was laid out differently back then, about how during down times the right ammo bay was loaded with cans of beer which were close to the same dimensions as the 50 caliber rounds and flown up to 9,000’ to quick cool it off while the left side guns were left live just in case they needed them. They talked about scudding under 300’ overcast ceilings and about planes they shot down. Their eyes and faces came alive, and these men in their 80s just Lit Up. It was something to watch, to listen, to…honor. I took probably a hundred photos of them up there. Talking, smiling, taking turns in the cockpit. The granddaughter of one of the gentlemen came up to me and said “Grandpa was feeling achy and tired when we got here, but he told me that as soon as he put his hand on this plane, it all went away, and he feels great.” Indeed, this man didn’t sit down once, for the HOURS that he spent by us and the plane. And he kept coming back. They all did, were all drawn back several times over the weekend, culminating in this one visit where they all happened to hit it at the same time. It really was amazing.
I also got a video/audio of Art Fiedler telling his “45” story. For the short version, he ended up in a side by side formation flight with an enemy fighter in a wounded airplane. Art’s guns were jammed, but the other guy didn’t know that. As far as either of them knew, whoever turned first would be blown out of the sky. Art said he felt like they flew that way for an hour, then finally he decided he couldn’t just do nothing, so he reached for his 45 pistol, with the intent to open his canopy and shoot at the guy that way if he had to. As he reached for the pistol, the other pilot ejected, the enemy plane went down, and Art got credit for the kill. His version is MUCH more entertaining, and I’ve got it. I don’t think I can put it on the internet as it is huge, and it’s sideways (I forgot you can’t turn video around), but I will see what I can do.
For these three guys, being there was as much of a thrill as it was for us. A couple of them were taking pictures of the people taking pictures of them. I would think it’s always neat to get to be a “rock star”, which is exactly what these gentlemen were to this crowd. I’m glad they came, and I’m glad I came too.
(Warning, restroom discussion ensuing): After lunch, Steve stopped in the “Executive Restrooms” on field, which are these gold-plated, wood-floored port-o-potties with brass fixtures and actual looking toilets and sinks. Quite fancy pants! He was standing there minding his own business, when he happened to quickly glance over at a new arrival, only to see it was BOB HOOVER standing next to him. Now talk about rock stars. Bob Hoover! Any pilot who doesn’t want to shake that man’s hand is not a real pilot yet. Of course shaking his hand at that time would not have been a good plan. Nor would having a discussion. But he came back into the lunch tent and sat back down and his eyes were all twitchy and he just could not wait to tell us who he’d been shoulder to shoulder with, and we’ve been having fun with that ever since.
The lunch tent wasn’t really a tent. It’s a framed building with meals served on china and cloth tablecloths, etc. But what was neat about it was looking around and seeing who was there. The legends would stop in, war aces and the current hot shots and the aerobatic teams and the fighter jocks. And us Glenndale Guys too. ;)
This day seems long to you, doesn’t it? Lol Well, it was a busy day! And it wasn’t over yet, at least not for me. Steve, Chuck and Kaylee hopped in Chuck’s truck and started on their way home. Charlie and Dawn waited in Nathan’s bus for the crowd to disperse, and Nathan and I walked across the ramp to the Mustang for our trip home.
I had loaned my credentials out to a guy who needed them, but I could have used them one more time-to get out to the plane. I was stopped at the edge of the Hot Zone (all the planes that are going to be firing up and taxing out are in a box called the Hot Zone), but luckily my “I’m with him” and flightsuit in my hands helped. We marched to the Mustang and did a good preflight (looking for those odd Coke cans or water bottles that could have been shoved anywhere), then with flight suits on we climbed in and fired up.
The air show was officially over by now, so we were no longer with Air Boss, but with regular Ground/Tower/Departure, and there was a weird variety of airplanes leaving. Two Mustangs did a formation take-off, followed by a Citation jet, followed by some smaller older jet, followed by us, while a giant Fed Ex something or other came taxing by, with a little Mooney right behind us, and a B-25 behind him. Quite the line-up of players!
As we started taxing, the Mustangs that were still parked in the Hot Zone were protected by men in orange vests who basically took charge of the taxing Mustang as it passed their section. As we would taxi away from their section, they each did something different with their hands. One guy gave us the double “ROCK ON” hand symbol. Remember the opening scene to Top Gun on the carrier with the guys swirling their arms and pointing? We got that too. A salute, a thumbs-up along with a mouthed “Thank You!!”.
A bow. One by one as we passed these guys, they each did their own little tribute. They had to have seen scores of Mustangs moving out that day, but they did that with each one, expressing their thanks and appreciation, and it was just Neat. There was also a line-up of people behind the Hot Zone on all sides, taking photos of all of us as we taxied by, waving, etc. You know, there are probably a lot of ways to feel kind of cool. Or humbled. Or inspired. This was definitely one of them. Of course if I was REALLY cool, I’d know better than to say that; I’d just say it was ordinary, I hadn’t noticed, or didn’t think it was anything that special. So obviously, I’m just not that cool yet. ;)
We took off out of there, and I did a couple of video clips from the back of the plane, including one looking over my shoulder at a receding Rickenbacker, and a pan to me waving like a very un-cool but pleased GIB. Nathan let me fly, and since I don’t have any instruments back there, I basically pointed it into the sunset and headed that way. ( A friend of Nathan’s calls it “T-LAR” or “That Looks About Right”.) :) It was beautiful. Nathan took it for the initial (overhead break) and landing, and I did a video of that too. Then I took one last picture of myself with a smile on my face with the canopy open on the runway at Kokomo, as the culmination of the weekend and the day. It was…something.
I opened up the hangar and fired up the tug, and Nathan says “Go ahead and drive it around.” As it was my first time, my response was “This ought to be entertaining”, and it was. I don’t drive very well when to make the tow bar go right I have to turn left and vice versa. I ended up having to back up to get back on track. His response was “Trailers are not your forte, are they.” No, I have, let’s see, zero experience at that kind of thing. But something tells me I should go out and run it around until I can at least go straight and get lined up without too much humiliation. ;)
You don’t really think the day is over yet, do you? Next I hop in my car, and go to get my second key out of my purse, since my main set of keys was in my luggage which went with Steve and Chuck in the truck. My second key is now hanging on the refrigerator. No problem, I have a third key now, remember?? I pull it out of my wallet, get in my car, sit down, and…gulp. “Don’t put it in the ignition!” floats hauntingly through my mind. My head drops in despair as I realize I have no working ignition key and thus only one recourse. Calling Steve, who just got home from a 4 hour drive, and telling him I didn’t have a key to my car and needed him to drive 20 minutes out to the airport to give me one. He was understandably quite thrilled about that…
After I made it home, I just unpacked a few things, downloaded one of my two cameras’ worth of photos, looked at my video clips to see if it worked, helped Kaylee finish up her make-up homework, and then Went To Bed. And THAT is the end of one long, amazing, occasionally embarrassing Sunday!
showed her mine, she glanced at the others’ matching lanyards, and we were in without a search of property or a halt. We were marching along feeling rather accomplished when a man in a golf cart stopped next to us and offered us a ride all the way to the plane. The ramp is over 2 ½ miles long end to end. Thank you Very Much, kind sir! So we hopped the golf cart and rode in style up to the plane. Now THAT was the way to arrive at the air show, and we even beat the opening jump this time. ;)It was a really busy day. The crowds were huge these last two days. I’m not sure of final numbers, but somebody said over 100,000 people on Saturday and I’d guess Sunday was somewhere around there too. We answered a lot of questions on the plane, wandered around a bit to look at displays and other planes, and answered more questions on the plane. Steve was polishing on the Mustang when someone stopped and decided that was a great shot, and posed him. You know, “put your hand here, your leg down, very nice.” I think I snorted when he told me that. He let the guy know he wasn’t the pilot, but the guy didn’t care, he said it was a great shot anyway. Chuck got to sign a guy’s program under the plane’s photo. He too said “I’m just a polisher here” and the guy said “I don’t care. Sign here.” And as for me, I got my photo taken too. A lady with two boys came up, and she said that one of the boys had a poster of Nate’s plane, and it was his favorite, and she asked me if I ever got to ride in it. I said yes, and that they sometimes call me GIB, or “Girl In Back”. She sent the boys over to me and said “Boys! Go stand by her and I’ll take your picture with an official GIB with the plane in the background!” They come over, stick their thumbs up and give a big ole grin, so why not—so did I. ;)
Nathan signed a lot of programs too, and answered the most questions. It’s an education just sitting there under the wing listening to the former pilots of these airplanes come up and chat about it, or warbird enthusiasts coming up with all sorts of questions. Usually one of us knew the answer, but when we didn’t, we’d refer them to Nathan. Steve had a different plan for awhile. When he didn’t know the answer, he’d send them over to Chuck and tell them Chuck was the Crew Chief. Chuck didn’t know this for awhile, but when he caught on at the group of folks being sent his way, I guess he told a few people that “Somebody over there is blowing smoke at you.”
The most amazing thing that happened that day though was when one at a time, three of the pilots who flew with Herky Green (the Major with 18 kills whose plane Nathan’s was painted to represent) and one of the pilots that actually flew in Herky’s airplane came up to the plane all at once. Two of the three are Aces. Art Fiedler, John Gaston, and Barrie Goldman are the three WWII fighter pilots who were there. Seeing them all three together at this plane that was in the Fighter Group they flew, the 325th, was an amazing piece of history. A group of people formed around them, and the three of them started signing autographs on the tail of the Checkertail Clan Mustang in a line. It was a true moment of history. I don’t know how long they stood there signing, but it was a LONG time. Finally we got a ladder, and we got them all up on the Mustang. One would sit in the cockpit, and the others would lean over, and it was like a switch went off in them, and they were 20 years old and invincible again. They started remembering and talking about missions, about how the cockpit was laid out differently back then, about how during down times the right ammo bay was loaded with cans of beer which were close to the same dimensions as the 50 caliber rounds and flown up to 9,000’ to quick cool it off while the left side guns were left live just in case they needed them. They talked about scudding under 300’ overcast ceilings and about planes they shot down. Their eyes and faces came alive, and these men in their 80s just Lit Up. It was something to watch, to listen, to…honor. I took probably a hundred photos of them up there. Talking, smiling, taking turns in the cockpit. The granddaughter of one of the gentlemen came up to me and said “Grandpa was feeling achy and tired when we got here, but he told me that as soon as he put his hand on this plane, it all went away, and he feels great.” Indeed, this man didn’t sit down once, for the HOURS that he spent by us and the plane. And he kept coming back. They all did, were all drawn back several times over the weekend, culminating in this one visit where they all happened to hit it at the same time. It really was amazing.
I also got a video/audio of Art Fiedler telling his “45” story. For the short version, he ended up in a side by side formation flight with an enemy fighter in a wounded airplane. Art’s guns were jammed, but the other guy didn’t know that. As far as either of them knew, whoever turned first would be blown out of the sky. Art said he felt like they flew that way for an hour, then finally he decided he couldn’t just do nothing, so he reached for his 45 pistol, with the intent to open his canopy and shoot at the guy that way if he had to. As he reached for the pistol, the other pilot ejected, the enemy plane went down, and Art got credit for the kill. His version is MUCH more entertaining, and I’ve got it. I don’t think I can put it on the internet as it is huge, and it’s sideways (I forgot you can’t turn video around), but I will see what I can do.
For these three guys, being there was as much of a thrill as it was for us. A couple of them were taking pictures of the people taking pictures of them. I would think it’s always neat to get to be a “rock star”, which is exactly what these gentlemen were to this crowd. I’m glad they came, and I’m glad I came too.
(Warning, restroom discussion ensuing): After lunch, Steve stopped in the “Executive Restrooms” on field, which are these gold-plated, wood-floored port-o-potties with brass fixtures and actual looking toilets and sinks. Quite fancy pants! He was standing there minding his own business, when he happened to quickly glance over at a new arrival, only to see it was BOB HOOVER standing next to him. Now talk about rock stars. Bob Hoover! Any pilot who doesn’t want to shake that man’s hand is not a real pilot yet. Of course shaking his hand at that time would not have been a good plan. Nor would having a discussion. But he came back into the lunch tent and sat back down and his eyes were all twitchy and he just could not wait to tell us who he’d been shoulder to shoulder with, and we’ve been having fun with that ever since.
The lunch tent wasn’t really a tent. It’s a framed building with meals served on china and cloth tablecloths, etc. But what was neat about it was looking around and seeing who was there. The legends would stop in, war aces and the current hot shots and the aerobatic teams and the fighter jocks. And us Glenndale Guys too. ;)
This day seems long to you, doesn’t it? Lol Well, it was a busy day! And it wasn’t over yet, at least not for me. Steve, Chuck and Kaylee hopped in Chuck’s truck and started on their way home. Charlie and Dawn waited in Nathan’s bus for the crowd to disperse, and Nathan and I walked across the ramp to the Mustang for our trip home.
I had loaned my credentials out to a guy who needed them, but I could have used them one more time-to get out to the plane. I was stopped at the edge of the Hot Zone (all the planes that are going to be firing up and taxing out are in a box called the Hot Zone), but luckily my “I’m with him” and flightsuit in my hands helped. We marched to the Mustang and did a good preflight (looking for those odd Coke cans or water bottles that could have been shoved anywhere), then with flight suits on we climbed in and fired up.
The air show was officially over by now, so we were no longer with Air Boss, but with regular Ground/Tower/Departure, and there was a weird variety of airplanes leaving. Two Mustangs did a formation take-off, followed by a Citation jet, followed by some smaller older jet, followed by us, while a giant Fed Ex something or other came taxing by, with a little Mooney right behind us, and a B-25 behind him. Quite the line-up of players!
As we started taxing, the Mustangs that were still parked in the Hot Zone were protected by men in orange vests who basically took charge of the taxing Mustang as it passed their section. As we would taxi away from their section, they each did something different with their hands. One guy gave us the double “ROCK ON” hand symbol. Remember the opening scene to Top Gun on the carrier with the guys swirling their arms and pointing? We got that too. A salute, a thumbs-up along with a mouthed “Thank You!!”.
A bow. One by one as we passed these guys, they each did their own little tribute. They had to have seen scores of Mustangs moving out that day, but they did that with each one, expressing their thanks and appreciation, and it was just Neat. There was also a line-up of people behind the Hot Zone on all sides, taking photos of all of us as we taxied by, waving, etc. You know, there are probably a lot of ways to feel kind of cool. Or humbled. Or inspired. This was definitely one of them. Of course if I was REALLY cool, I’d know better than to say that; I’d just say it was ordinary, I hadn’t noticed, or didn’t think it was anything that special. So obviously, I’m just not that cool yet. ;)We took off out of there, and I did a couple of video clips from the back of the plane, including one looking over my shoulder at a receding Rickenbacker, and a pan to me waving like a very un-cool but pleased GIB. Nathan let me fly, and since I don’t have any instruments back there, I basically pointed it into the sunset and headed that way. ( A friend of Nathan’s calls it “T-LAR” or “That Looks About Right”.) :) It was beautiful. Nathan took it for the initial (overhead break) and landing, and I did a video of that too. Then I took one last picture of myself with a smile on my face with the canopy open on the runway at Kokomo, as the culmination of the weekend and the day. It was…something.
I opened up the hangar and fired up the tug, and Nathan says “Go ahead and drive it around.” As it was my first time, my response was “This ought to be entertaining”, and it was. I don’t drive very well when to make the tow bar go right I have to turn left and vice versa. I ended up having to back up to get back on track. His response was “Trailers are not your forte, are they.” No, I have, let’s see, zero experience at that kind of thing. But something tells me I should go out and run it around until I can at least go straight and get lined up without too much humiliation. ;)
You don’t really think the day is over yet, do you? Next I hop in my car, and go to get my second key out of my purse, since my main set of keys was in my luggage which went with Steve and Chuck in the truck. My second key is now hanging on the refrigerator. No problem, I have a third key now, remember?? I pull it out of my wallet, get in my car, sit down, and…gulp. “Don’t put it in the ignition!” floats hauntingly through my mind. My head drops in despair as I realize I have no working ignition key and thus only one recourse. Calling Steve, who just got home from a 4 hour drive, and telling him I didn’t have a key to my car and needed him to drive 20 minutes out to the airport to give me one. He was understandably quite thrilled about that…
After I made it home, I just unpacked a few things, downloaded one of my two cameras’ worth of photos, looked at my video clips to see if it worked, helped Kaylee finish up her make-up homework, and then Went To Bed. And THAT is the end of one long, amazing, occasionally embarrassing Sunday!
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