Since leaving home after turning eighteen, I have returned home many times. Some of those trips would leave me scratching my head, counting my blessing and at times hoping I had nine lives like a cat because I just used up one.
My first time in an airplane was 1965 when I went off to Navy bootcamp when I was eighteen, the plane was propeller driven, jet engines for passenger planes were still a new idea, I flew from Nashville, Tn. to Chicago, Il.. It was an exciting adventure, the first of many. There were three of us from different parts of Tennessee. One boy, from the deep woods of middle Tennessee, sat next to the window and constantly starred at the engines. After a while, the boy sitting next to him asked what he was looking at, while keeping his eyes glued to the engine, he said that he was concerned that the engine would blow up if the pilot didn't shift into a higher gear. Turns out the boy had never seen an airplane up close much less ridden in one. Over the years an airplane brought me home many times, not all of the rides were smooth.
After my first tour in Vietnam ended, the Navy flew us home in an old four engine, propeller driven, plane. We started off in Da Nang, Vietnam and flew to Subic Bay in the Philippines where we spent the night. The next day we flew to Yokohama, Japan where we refueled then on to the scenic island of Guam where we spent the night. The third day we boarded the plane and flew to the island of Midway where we picked up box lunches and more fuel then we were off to Hawaii for another sleepover. The next day we boarded the plane for the last leg of the trip, destination San Diego, Ca.
Our pilot was somewhat of a joker. In Guam, he and a few of the other guys loaded up on liquor at the duty-free store, somewhere between Midway and Hawaii he came out of the cockpit holding an empty liquor bottle and feigning being drunk claimed he had finished off his bottle and needed more.
The next morning we were ready to takeoff on our final leg of the trip. The plane goes rolling down the runway at full speed but just as it should be leaping in to the air the pilot slams on the brakes then taxies back to the other end of the runway, this happens three times. The pilot gets on the intercom and tells us if we would look out the window we would see that the propeller on one engine was not spinning, it seemed that the engine wouldn't start the normal way so they were trying to drag start it, if they couldn't get it going they would have to postpone the trip until repairs were made.
Well, the engine started on the next attempt and we took off but instead of heading out over the ocean we started circling the airport. After several circles the pilot once again told us that there was a red light on the dashboard that indicated the alternator was not working but he thought it was a faulty light so we were going to circle the airport another time or two. It wasn't long before we headed out over the ocean for our last leg of the trip which was a little over twenty five hundred miles. At maximum speed it would take us at least eleven hours.
Several hours into the flight, the pilot comes on the intercom again and proudly claims he was right about the light being faulty because it was still out but it didn't matter because we were at the point of no return meaning it was just as far to go back as it was to go forward. We finally landed in the wee hours of the morning.
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The second time I returned from Vietnam was uneventful and after a few days I got leave to fly home to get Linda and drive back to California.
Back in the late 1960's there was a lot of unrest in America and around the world, not everybody was happy with the American way of life. Draft dodgers left the country for Canada and oddly enough there were people who wanted to go to Cuba, a communist country, so they would highjack airliners. Well there I was on plane to Orlando, Fl., it was a night flight and believe it or not there were no more than twenty or so people. There were several men of obvious Spanish decent, I couldn't help but wonder if we were going to land in Orlando or Cuba, the butterflies in my stomach finally went away when I walked off the plane in Orlando and saw Linda waiting.
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Years later I was returning from a business trip to California, I had to change planes in Dallas, Tx. before flying on to Orlando. The plane was full. We taxied down the runway towards our takeoff point but stopped short behind several other planes, seems there were severe thunderstorms in the area and all planes were held on the ground as a safety precaution. This delay in it's self was not so bad except that it was July in Texas, hot and humid, and we sat there for over an hour waiting for the storms to clear and the pilots decided to conserve fuel so the shut down the engines, there we were, some 150 + passengers and crew sitting in a long cylinder with no ventilation. The pilot finally turned the engines back on but not without the threat of mutiny.
The storms calmed long enough to allow us to takeoff but our route would take us into them the line of storms that had just passed over us. The pilot decided to go around the line of storms and get in front of it so we went as far north as Memphis, Tn. before turning south to Orlando but we would still fly through some rough weather so all passengers were told to keep their seat belts on and even the stewardesses were not allowed to get out of their seats. Rough weather was an understatement, I don't know what kept us in the sky, the plane was bouncing all over the place with down drafts and up drafts, it was about forty five minutes before we turned south and the ride smoothed out.
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I was working in New Jersey in the late 1990's, every couple of weeks I would fly home. I took advantage of the Presidents Day weekend to fly home for three or four days. When I arrived at the airport I was put on an earlier flight which was loading then, the flight was full. I was in the middle seat, a cadet from West Point had the window seat and a young woman who worked as an accountant for Jim Henson Productions was in the isle seat.
The plane was a twin engine Airbus. Once we were loaded a tractor backed us away from the boarding tunnel and the pilot attempted to start the engines. A few moments later the pilot made an announcement that if we would look out the window there was a crew that had the cowling off the engine and were working on it, the pilot told us that we had a bad starter which would be fixed momentarily. T mechanics quickly had the new starter installed and the cowling back in place and the engine was spinning over, this was done to blow out any fuel residues from trying to start it earlier. Now the pilot hit the starter and a bright orange flame about a hundred feet long shot out of the engine, People screamed and someone shouted "we're gonna die". Passengers jumped up from their seats and crowded the isle in total chaos, the stewardesses finally got people to calm down but they were determined to get off the plane they had no confidence.
The pilot came over the speakers and explained the situation, simply put not all of the fuel was ejected before hitting the starter. The pilot stated that he had some thirty five years experience and he assured us there was nothing wrong with the plane, Finally he said he would go back to the gate and allow anyone to get off but if they expected to get another flight out before next Tuesday they would have a difficult time as this was a national holiday weekend, that last part seemed to calm the nerves.
In the mean while the cadet bought the pilots explanation but the young woman next to me was still shaking. She looked at me and asked what I was going to do, I told her it was not my time to die and I was going home on that plane, I offered her my hand and told her if it would make her feel better she could hold it, she grabbed it and held on tightly, we were thirty five thousand feet in the air before she turned loose, there indents in my palm where her nails dug in.
Barring the fiasco at the beginning it was a smooth flight.
These are the most memorable of all the flights I have been on over the years, there were others that had there moments such as fog so dense you couldn't see the runway, winds so strong the plane had to land sideways to the runway and blinding rain but flying is still the safest mode of transportation.
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