Memories and Old Airplanes

Santa Paula has a small private airport  with a wonderful history, it opened in 1928. (https://www.santapaulaairport.com/history/airport-history) It's home to just over 300 aircraft, many of them historic, some military, some private, it's a busy little place with almost 100,000 take offs and landings yearly. Every Sunday the airport  has an open house and the public can wander around the airport, the little museum, talk to the aircraft owners and watch the plans take off and land. Santa Paula Airport brought back memories for both Cakes and I. 

My father was a WWII pilot, he fell in love with flying when he was a young farm boy,when he flew with a barnstormer in an old Jenny. Dad was hooked for life. He joined the Army Air Corps cadet program when WWII broke out. After the war my dad taught flying in a Army surplus J3 Piper Cub. One of his students was a local car dealer, he convinced Dad he shouldn't be a school teacher and the rest is history.

The first plane I can remember flying in was a Stinson Station Wagon. We flew it to Iowa to see one of Dad's WWII pilot buddies, Mom was right seat and my Cocker spaniel, Dusty  and I were the passengers. mom brought a potty chair along "just in case"

Here's another "station wagon" we saw yesterday, a late 40's Chevy Suburban

I flew with my Dad in a Stearman biplane, I could barely see out of the cockpit..we saw this beautiful restoration yesterday. Helmet and googles required.

I flew with dad in Er Coupes and Naviatons...the Naviaon was built on the WWII T-10 airframe, tough as nails. Yes, the seats got wet when it rained or snowed.

We flew in every Cessna made including the light twins. Dad's all time favorite single engine  aircraft to fly was the V Tail Beech Bonanza, the Bonanza was the first high performance single available to the public. Beech is still building them. The Bonanza will cruise at 160 knots for almost 600 miles,, we could fly the 2100 miles from ND to Florida in 11 hours of flight time, we'd stop 4 times for food and bathroom breaks, we could have made it with 3 stops, but Dad would never push the margins.

Beech doesn't build the V Tail anymore, it's hard to fly since it was quirky for inexperienced pilots. My dad had in addition to his Private pilot's license, he had his instrument, mult-engine ( up to 4) he was an instructor, he could do acrobatics and sky writing.dad was licensed to fly float planes and ski planes too.

His dream and mine was to get me licensed by age 14, I was well on my way when he had his first heart attack the summer I turned 14.The FAA grounded him for several years. I took some lessons later in my early 30's and soloed in 5 hours, Dad's teachings came rushing back and flying seemed so natural and easy., Soloing was enough for me. I still think about flying though.

I would have loved to have the old man with us yesterday at Santa Paula, the hours we spent there with the old airplanes were bittersweet.

One last plane, this is a restored 1936 Howard, 19,000 hours of restoration, the owner still flies the old Howard a lot, it's leaving soon for a trip to Idaho Falls. It's got a hopped up Pratt and Whitney rotary engine giving it about 150 more horse power than stock, it performs as well as any modern single but uses much more fuel. The plane is flawless. The owner's father had one when he was a boy.

Whitey Whiskers Kills Christmas

I only had one cat when I was a kid. My farm Grandmother Clara picked out a kitten for me when I was 4, it was my birthday present. He was a barn cat. When the kitten was weaned, she sand box trained him and handed him over. He was perfectly white and I named him Whitey Whiskers, I loved him, Mom hated him.

Whitey followed me around, Whitey slept with me.Damn I loved that cat!

On Christmas Eve, we came home to our little GI Bill house, full of family Christmas Cheer. I'm hauling in my presents. I got a lot, I was the only grand kid on both sides. Mom unlocked the door, went in. Dad and I heard a scream.

Whitey had climbed the Christmas tree, he had pulled it over, lights and bulbs smashed, water from the stand all over the floor. Mom was over the moon pissed. Dad and I exchanged uncomfortable looks, then he started to laugh and so did I, our behavior cranked Mom to 11.

"That's it the damn cat is going." Mom was in tears, Dad and I were laughing. "I've never liked cats, I hate cats, always have."

Whitey was smart, he was no where to be seen. Mom turned on me, "Do you think Santa Claus is going to come tonight? Your cat destroyed our tree and Santa doesn't have anyplace to leave your presents!" That knocked the buzz off my Christmas.

Dad and I cleaned up, Mom went to bed, she slammed the bedroom door too. Once the tree was back up, it didn't look too bad. Dad poured himself a drink, I had milk and Grandma's Christmas cookies. and Whitey stuck his head out from behind the sofa, ran over and jumped on my lap, I let him lap some of my milk.

We finally went to bed. It took Dad a while to get in the bedroom, Whitey slept on my pillow as usual.Santa did show up and things seemed fine.

Whitey went back to the farm on Christmas Day. he moved into the barn and became a top flight mouser. He was still my cat, every time I was at the farm Whitey would climb all over me. He lived a good life for a long time, probably sired 50 litters over his lifetime. He was happy doing what he was born to do.

Never had another cat, but I did get a Cocker Spaniel that spring, plenty of Dusty the Dog stories are in the memory bank. Mom liked dogs a lot more than she liked cats, that was a relief.

Merry Christmas.

Mom's Day

I was fortunate to have had strong women in my life, both my grandmothers, fraternal and maternal and my crabby old greatgrandma. Nanny lost her husband as a child-bride and raised her daughters on her own at a time when women didn't do that, she did and it's no wonder she was kind of crabby!

My Mom graduated from high school in 1942 and married my Dad. She was a good student, athlete and actress. Oh god, was Mom dramatic when she wanted to be! She could have and wanted to go to college, but it was WW2, she loved my Dad and wanted to marry him, so she did. It was the first of many, many acts of sacrifice she would perform during her life. Mom was a good looking woman, I always thought she was a Katherine Hepburn type, tall, thin and (again) dramatic and had classic good taste and style. Like so many young women during the war, she and two of my dad's fellow pilot trainees wives followed their young husbands from training base to training base. Mom lived close to Dad in Texas and North Carolina. The girls became life- long friends and when they got together they had an incredible amount of fun.

When Dad had his first heart attack at 37, it scared the hell out of her, but she carried him and all of us until he recovered. Dad was frustrated, angry and in pain for the next 20 years. Mom bore the brunt of it and I never knew until years later how hard it was for her and how many issues she had with Dad. My Mother was widowed at 54 and never remarried. She was, until she died, madly in love with Dad. I can only guess when they met again in the great cosmos, he got a big hug, kiss, a kick in the ass and a piece of her mind. And then many, many kisses.

Mom was a reader and she made sure I was. In later years I'd read a book, send it to her and we'd discuss it over the phone. A two person book club.

When I was single and living in Boston I'd fly Mom out for a week and she would immerse herself in the culture and energy of the city. My friends all thought she was great and it was fun to have the old girl around. During one visit, I woke up at 3am and found my mother sitting in the living room wide awake. I asked if anything was wrong, she said "no, I just can't sleep." She had spent the afternoon at Caffe Royale, sitting outside reading and had consumed 9 cups of "that wonderful coffee that comes in the little cups." Her eyes looked like pinwheels! Later Jan and I took her sailing and for a woman who always said "I don't like boats" she sure seemed happy. We'd sail for an hour or so and then Mom would go below and take a nap on the "low side". Sailing agreed with her.

Mom was an alcoholic and the thing I may proudest of is that she whipped it.

Mom died 5 years ago surrounded by her sons, daughters, sister, grandchildren and great grandchildren.

A day doesn't go by that I don't miss her.