MDFrench
A-List Customer
- Messages
- 420
Hey all,
I was headed to a small airport here in Georgia, specifically Winder Airport. I made a wrong turn but saw airport signs and didn't know I was headed in the completely wrong direction. I ended up at Gwinnett County Airport and was about to turn around when I saw signs with arrows saying, "B-17."
Well, being the Flying Fortress junkie that I am, I said, "To heck with my original plans. I must see what all this is about." I drove a little further and coming into view on the runway, sitting there oh so majestically was the B-17G, "Fuddy Duddy." I was THRILLED. I hadn't been around a B-17 since seeing the static B-17G "Spirit of America" in California in 2002.
It was free entry to get up close and personal with the plane. I met Hal Weekly, the veteran pilot of the original "Aluminium Overcast" who flew out of Nut Hampstead (sp?). He was impressed that I had heard of it, and I told him that I grew up spending weekends at Bassingbourn, which was relatively near that area. He then commented on my jacket being familiar to him. I was wearing my RAF battlejacket at the time.
Well, a nice guy named Bob told me that Fuddy Duddy would be flying later on. I was now really thrilled because I hadn't seen a B-17 fly since "Sally B" at Duxford in 1993. Then he said, "And I'm going to be on it." I flipped out! I said, "Wow, congrats on reserving a seat on it! I'm envious." He said, "There are still some spaces left for the last flight..."
Hmm... Quibble over $400 and regret for the rest of my life missing this possibly once in a lifetime opportunity that fell into my lap like fate? Heck no. I slapped that plastic down and for the first time in my life, MasterCard was working for ME. I spent 30 glorious minutes in the air over Lake Lanier on an honest to God B-17 Flying Fortress.
The sound of those four Wright-Cyclones was loud and thrilling, the views from the radio compartment skylight, the waist gun windows and of course the bombadier station were indescribably sublime. It was both exciting and at the same time sobering. Fortunately I had about five minutes all to myself in the nose of that beautiful plane right as it was over the center of Lake Lanier.
It was one of those moments in life where your mind doesn't just take in the experience of being there, but suddenly you find every aspect of your life flooding in with true clarity of thought.
I though about my grandfather, who is thankfully still with us. I thought about Colonel Bob Morgan, the recently deceased pilot of the "Memphis Belle" who was a friend of our family. I thought about Otto Meikus, crew chief of B-17 "Jack the Ripper" with whom I spent many a misty morning at Bassingbourn. I guess I thought about a lot of things.
I watched one passenger sprinkle a pinch of the ashes of his father discreetly near the tail area. His father had been a B-17 pilot in the war. I watched a woman cry upon standing in the cockpit area. Her father, who died in 1983, had been a fortress pilot. One man had on his grandfather's flight cap and A-2. I don't think anyone was there just for the thrill of it. Sure it was fun, but there was ultimately something more going on for each and every one of us.
I think very few people would pay $400 to fly in a vintage airplane without some kind of serious personal connection. When it reached the ground with an audible squawk of the wheels on the runway as only B-17s sound, I stepped off thinking, "Technically, I didn't go anywhere on this flight. So why do I feel like this particular airplane ride has taken me farther than all the other flights combined?"
It was an interesting and unexpected day to say the least.
Mike
To date, I have now seen 7 B-17s: Memphis Belle (inside and out, sat in the pilot seat and worked the flaps), unnamed B-17G at RAF Hendon, Mary Alice, Sally B (flying), Spirit of America, Aluminum Overcast and Fuddy Duddy (flew with).
I was headed to a small airport here in Georgia, specifically Winder Airport. I made a wrong turn but saw airport signs and didn't know I was headed in the completely wrong direction. I ended up at Gwinnett County Airport and was about to turn around when I saw signs with arrows saying, "B-17."
Well, being the Flying Fortress junkie that I am, I said, "To heck with my original plans. I must see what all this is about." I drove a little further and coming into view on the runway, sitting there oh so majestically was the B-17G, "Fuddy Duddy." I was THRILLED. I hadn't been around a B-17 since seeing the static B-17G "Spirit of America" in California in 2002.
It was free entry to get up close and personal with the plane. I met Hal Weekly, the veteran pilot of the original "Aluminium Overcast" who flew out of Nut Hampstead (sp?). He was impressed that I had heard of it, and I told him that I grew up spending weekends at Bassingbourn, which was relatively near that area. He then commented on my jacket being familiar to him. I was wearing my RAF battlejacket at the time.
Well, a nice guy named Bob told me that Fuddy Duddy would be flying later on. I was now really thrilled because I hadn't seen a B-17 fly since "Sally B" at Duxford in 1993. Then he said, "And I'm going to be on it." I flipped out! I said, "Wow, congrats on reserving a seat on it! I'm envious." He said, "There are still some spaces left for the last flight..."
Hmm... Quibble over $400 and regret for the rest of my life missing this possibly once in a lifetime opportunity that fell into my lap like fate? Heck no. I slapped that plastic down and for the first time in my life, MasterCard was working for ME. I spent 30 glorious minutes in the air over Lake Lanier on an honest to God B-17 Flying Fortress.
The sound of those four Wright-Cyclones was loud and thrilling, the views from the radio compartment skylight, the waist gun windows and of course the bombadier station were indescribably sublime. It was both exciting and at the same time sobering. Fortunately I had about five minutes all to myself in the nose of that beautiful plane right as it was over the center of Lake Lanier.
It was one of those moments in life where your mind doesn't just take in the experience of being there, but suddenly you find every aspect of your life flooding in with true clarity of thought.
I though about my grandfather, who is thankfully still with us. I thought about Colonel Bob Morgan, the recently deceased pilot of the "Memphis Belle" who was a friend of our family. I thought about Otto Meikus, crew chief of B-17 "Jack the Ripper" with whom I spent many a misty morning at Bassingbourn. I guess I thought about a lot of things.
I watched one passenger sprinkle a pinch of the ashes of his father discreetly near the tail area. His father had been a B-17 pilot in the war. I watched a woman cry upon standing in the cockpit area. Her father, who died in 1983, had been a fortress pilot. One man had on his grandfather's flight cap and A-2. I don't think anyone was there just for the thrill of it. Sure it was fun, but there was ultimately something more going on for each and every one of us.
I think very few people would pay $400 to fly in a vintage airplane without some kind of serious personal connection. When it reached the ground with an audible squawk of the wheels on the runway as only B-17s sound, I stepped off thinking, "Technically, I didn't go anywhere on this flight. So why do I feel like this particular airplane ride has taken me farther than all the other flights combined?"
It was an interesting and unexpected day to say the least.
Mike
To date, I have now seen 7 B-17s: Memphis Belle (inside and out, sat in the pilot seat and worked the flaps), unnamed B-17G at RAF Hendon, Mary Alice, Sally B (flying), Spirit of America, Aluminum Overcast and Fuddy Duddy (flew with).
