Page #4 Tales of an Old Aviator...The Big Chill

Post by **avcanada** » Fri Feb 20, 2004 2:59 pm

Author Tales of an Old Aviator...The Big Chill
Sulako

Joined: Oct 19, 2001
Posts: 310 Posted: 2003-04-28 06:56
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Duke, I take my hat off to you. You really know how to describe and convey those stories in a manner that makes me feel like I'm sitting beside you in the cockpit (in the right seat, of course )

It's equally amazing that you are fighting through a tough time, yet through your stories, you enrich the lives of fellow aviation buffs. Thanks again, and if I ever meet you in person, the beers and stogies are on me. Take care.

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Sugar Shack

Joined: Apr 30, 2003
Posts: 1
From: Jennifer Paris - Iowa
Posted: 2003-04-30 13:42
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Les,

Your stories are more than great! I feel special that I was able to listen to some of these stories in person. As you Canadian’s say… “It’s a hoot!” Your energy for life is so incredible… you are incredible!

Enjoyed cheap kangaroo wine and built a dream come true…. Thanks!

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-04-30 21:49
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If you folks only knew how much your kind words and support play a role in my battle.

I am very blessed.

Picture this ...Sugar Shack

I had just finished chemo from my first round with the big "c" when a couple of friends dropped by. They were in the business of building log homes for customers all over the world and had a big contract from Israel. They had some three homes on the go in the yard and needed someone to go to Iowa to erect a home on the edge of a lake....well!
What a privelege. If those people were representative of the US then they have my vote.
They told us of the Sturgeon in their lake.. up to three feet.... I told them that in BC we used those ones for bait.... and that in BC you had to stand behind a tree to bait your hook for fear of attack.
I think I lost them with tales of the Hoop Snake in Australia.... they go around and bite their tail and make a hoop and roll after you.....Maybe cheap plonk...

The next tale is written.... post maybe tonite...

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-06 00:16
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Ya Know....

You gotta milk this cancer thing for everything it's worth......

I got two phone calls..... "get yer arse down to the airport"b...says Crowe..."seeya at noon" says Mark....
and some other dude...

Three Yaks show up for lunch.... I had a beer with lunch...

Then up for some aeros... loops...rolls..
in a sweet , sweet airplane....

Shit I'm lucky!

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DIK & DOG

Joined: Apr 06, 2003
Posts: 3 Posted: 2003-05-06 18:06
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Hey Duke, remember that luck does not just happen, it is made. Reminds me of a statement that someone once told me.

YOU START OFF WITH A BAG FULL OF LUCK AND AN EMPTY BAG OF EXPERIENCE

THE TRICK IS TO END UP WITH A FULL BAG OF EXPERIENCE BEFORE YOUR BAG OF LUCK IS EMPTY

Think I'll have beer with you as I wait for the YQF snow to terminate.

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-07 21:12
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BOMBER MOON

4AM

The smell of five tons of pine mushrooms was not unpleasant.. sort of musty...... made even more musty by the 100% humidity as the heavy rain beat mercilessly on the fuselage. The rain bounced on the tarmac as the retreating vehicles splashed away through the gate having entrusted their precious cargo to us. We had been hand loading the crates for an hour and a half and now we had to herc strap them down ... a difficult task as we bulked out and there was no room to move. We had a sort of tunnel left to get to the cockpit.

It wasn't the 5AM deadline that made me tense because we were on schedule. ICE!....A chill coursed through my blood ... then gone.

I heard the cargo door thump shut as I climbed wearily into the left seat. The rotating shaft of light atop the tower stabbed through the heavy wet night. Man, just look at the size of those raindrops... It's only four degrees.
ICE! Where will it be tonight, two thousand, four thousand?

"She'll be right mate," thinks I. "We'll punch up through it and cruise along bathed in the light of the bomber moon."

"Yeah! Right," grunts Rob .. had he read my mind? I realized I was mumbling....

Punch up through it indeed . It was going to be a struggle coaxing the maxed out airplane to altitude... outbound on the localizer ... steep mountains on both sides. And blacker than the inside of a dog's guts.And a climb gradient to meet too. If we lost an engine, and that was happening with monotonous regularity lately, we'd have to turn back in a tight valley and "land in this shit" thinks I.

"And all loaded up with @#$!*in' ice too," says Rob. I'd been mumblin' again.

The engines of the C117 shook then rumbled into life after pissing the appropriate amount of fuel and oil onto the tarmac and while Rob jotted down our clearance I taxied the airplane with my nose pressed up against the glass as the wipers slapped uselessly back and forth.The engine run-up and pre take off checks were done slowly and deliberately as if we were buying just a little more time."Delta Oscar Golf lining up for take off," Rob calmly spoke into the mike .. but tense he was.

I used differential brakes and throttles to line up with the few stripes that were visible.... four or five stripes ... and darkness... and rain.

I thought of my ex... the kids .. Why now you fool? .. Think ICE my friend.
The briefing was by the book .... but were we listening... we knew we were shooting from the hip here.
Slowly, full power, right rudder for the yaw and start forward pressure to get the tail up where maybe we can see better. See what?! Darkness and a few stripes. I skillfully used the curvature of the earth to get the beast airborne and ..."positive rate" "Gear up" We know there is a hill off the end of the runway in Terrace .

She growled her way up to two thousand... no ice..three thousand.. none. Rain diminishing but horizontal snow pierced the ice lights.Slush. "Carb heat, Rob," but he was already there. We droned on heavilly.
In a heartbeat there was ice everywhere except the heated windshield. It drooled back from the boots. We punched it off the wings but it was all over the nose, and inboard of the engines..... the prop spinners...under the wings... she sagged. It built up in wierd castles behind the boots, like stall strips.

Sometimes you just gotta wonder....what the fu*k am I doing here? Money> Oh, I almost forgot... I wanted them little Nips to get their mushroom feed at sixty bucks a plate.That's wot!

She just isn't climbing... but I can't raise the nose because I don't want any under the wings....shit!

A glow appeared... big, orange and round ...furry at first and then it exploded into clarity... a bomber moon.... peaceful... we scooted along for a while... a few feet above the cottony silver bathed undercast....
AAAAAHHH! Life is good. A warm cockpit and the rumbling orgasmic vibration of cruise power....grins all around.... cold sandwiches and coffee.

More to follow... over!

[ This Message was edited by: Duke Elegant on 2003-05-07 21:18 ]

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Linecrew

Joined: Jan 02, 2003
Posts: 60
From: Canada
Posted: 2003-05-08 08:18
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C-GDOG...to add a visual....

http://www.airliners.net/open.file/244894/L/

[ This Message was edited by: linecrew on 2003-05-23 08:51 ]

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Rudy

Joined: Jan 04, 2003
Posts: 88
From: BC coast
Posted: 2003-05-17 00:36
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Keep this one going folks! Duke has a great history and is a pleasure to hear from. Good stories there, Duke!

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Sawmill Broad

Joined: Apr 08, 2003
Posts: 6 Posted: 2003-05-19 10:12
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Hey Duke, how are you doing? Haven't heard from you in awhile.

The sun must be shining and you're out in it, else you would be writing......

You've got a ton of fans here waiting to hear more tales of daring-do!

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-19 11:33
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Thanks Rudy and Sawmill Broad ..encouraqgement is good.

I thought I had bored everybody to tears because my last story didn't involve a crash or scary rides.

Also, maybe there are too many stories involving old airplanes ... the youngun's like shiny, fast stuff.

A fiend of mine just got his captaincy on the Boeing 700 , glass cockpit.

He said he now knows what it feels like to be a dog watching TV.

The next story involves "The Golden Triangle"...search for gold.

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Cat Driver

Joined: Feb 15, 2003
Posts: 1194 Posted: 2003-05-19 12:21
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Hey Duke:

On that low vis takeoff in Terrace did you roll so far that you eventually flew off the curvature of the earth?

How goes the chemo treatments?

Cat Driver:

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g0five

Joined: Nov 03, 2001
Posts: 870
From: the depths of insanity
Posted: 2003-05-19 13:38
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Bomber Moon that was one of my fav. chapters.

Please keep writing.

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-20 11:21
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Cat Driver

G'Day mate.....your'e right.... we used to always say that with skill, you could use the curvature of the earth to get off with a load.
Chemo not so good last time around... for the first time I got bummed out ... decided that's OK.... got a lot to be bummed out about.

BUT....

gOfive .... you folks make me feel good.. Thank you.

I will write a short one before the full book chapter about "The Golden Triangle". Cat Driver... this one is for you. It's about Jim.

It proves that Aviation has a soul.

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-20 12:08
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Jim was a great pilot and an even better friend. It was fun to see Jim get mad. His face would get as red as a baboon's arse but usually broke into a smile when he realized we were torquing him up.

I had hired him once when I imported an F27 upon which he had lots of experience. He professionally massaged the program to success. I respected him. Jim was a Convair Captain when he died.

I happened to be in Nanaimo at the time of his funeral but I was on a deadline to fly a C117 Super Three to Ontario FULLY laden with eight hours of fuel and tons of spares. The new owner was with us so I told him I had to go to a funeral that was important to me but a better idea invaded my mind, one that seemed to be more appropriate.

I phoned the preacher and learned that the chapel was by the waterfront in Nanaimo and suggested to him that I do a flypast over the chapel. How does one get the timing right on this one? The preacher thought it was a great idea and we hatched a rough plan. I had told him I needed to do a thorough run-up and I hoped I could get it right ... by guessing.

There were Kelowna Flightcraft people down from Kelowna, lots of his local friends and relatives and staff from the airport.

We tried to determine the appropriate time for start and warm-up....which could take a while. So start we did... and run-up. We told Flight Service our intentions and rolled for take off ... and yes!.. we needed the curvature of the earth to get off. We retracted the wheels to save the perimeter fence and lumbered down the inlet....HEAVY. I stayed low at about six hundred feet over the water, around the point and onwards to the chapel by the sea. Timing? Who knows.

Only the preacher and his wife knew we were coming.

The preacher spoke in a comforting tone in the strange silence of the chapel . The minister's wife went to the rear by the big doors that she left cracked slightly open. He
revisited Jim's career and related Jim's favourite times and aeroplanes, one of wich was the DC3.

Only the preacher's wife heard us coming and signalled her husband. He talked of journeys, especially the one Jim was on now.... some people claimed later that they heard a far off recognizable throaty rumble.

He nodded to his wife who threw open the doors .. "and his life involved many journeys..none so important as his jouney now..." The rumble was very loud now ... six hundred feet (legal over the water)...people were taken aback ... I roared overhead ... and peeled up and on my way to Winnipeg. There wasn't a dry eye in the place. " And Jim," said the preacher," that was Captain Duke Elegant... for you, my friend."

They left the doors open for a while till I faded off into the Eastern sky.

I had pulled it off. There was at least ten messages on my cell mailbox when I landed in Medicine Hat with a catostrophic engine failure. At least the engine didn't grenade till I got through the Rockies. Life goes on.

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Nark

Joined: Oct 27, 2002
Posts: 97
From: Canada.
Posted: 2003-05-20 13:58
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These are truely touching stories. I hope that you get better soon.

I'd love to buy you a round. These stories are simply fantastic.

Cheers.
_________________
"But I didn't do it!" -Big Josh.

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Cat Driver

Joined: Feb 15, 2003
Posts: 1194 Posted: 2003-05-20 14:10
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Thanks Duke for a truly honest and touching story.

I was at the airport when you took off and knowing the load you had on board I thought I would be going to another friends funeral.

How do you get through the security screeners when you travel airlines with all those horseshoes up your ass?

I think about your health often and wish we could go back to earlier and more carefree days Duke.

At least Jim never knew what hit him.....

When my time comes I hope it is some jealous husband shooting me out of the saddle..

Cat Driver:

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-20 21:09
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I got a call from my daughter in Montreal today and she had just come back from Maine.
That reminded me of an experience I will never forget. Just a quick one folks.

In 1975/76 we used to fly nine Grumman Avengers from BC to New Brunswick to spray for the budworm infestation. WOW! What fun. Nine Avengers, in three groups of three... can you imagine the trouble we got into across Canada. My engineer flew in the back seat and his stuff was stowed in the belly, including his target shooting .22. We had parachutes upon which we sat as part of our seat... and boy!... after four hours they felt as if they were full of deer antlers.

That same year was the year that a D.B. Cooper had hijacked a 727, grabbed about a million in cash, got the crew to lower the rear door and parachuted to earth somewhere over Oregon if memory serves me correctly. He was never located, nor the booty.

Well, we got to New Brunswick and Conair had a rental vehicle for us and we unloaded our gear and got ready for spraying....by the way... we carried 650US gallons of insecticide... heavy, to say the least. But the bugs hadn't crawled out yet so we had some time off. "Let's go to Calais, Maine, and get shit faced".... so we did.... or so we thought.

Six of us crammed into the Buick and pulled up to the US border. We were all competing for loudmouth of the month so the US customs were not impressed.

"Open your trunk!" grunts this Billy but we knew no fear... we hadn't done anything.

Well, it turns out that my engineer had his chute in the trunk along with his rifle. He was not with us.

They were looking for D.B. Cooper. They were sure they had him... or us... didn't matter.

Up against the wall we went till the FBI showed up. It sure didn't help with us calling them morons.

We did talk (babble) our way out of it and as an interesting side-note to this I believe that 727's were modified so that the door could not be deployed in flight.

They call it the D.B Cooper switch... could someone elaborate on this?

[ This Message was edited by: Duke Elegant on 2003-05-20 21:15 ]

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-21 16:06
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FIRE BOMBING AS A CAREER

The last few years have surley brought the Fire Bombing industry to the forefront. We have had a long string of hot years. I was a tanker pilot since 1975 ... twenty eight years. Those years probably had an equal number of wet years. One season, Dennis King had the record.... 14 hours. Yet we still made fifty g's. My records show one year 35 hours, another year 41 hours and just over fifty. That's what you get the money for. The sitting around.. on base... with the same crew of ten or so... day after day... sometimes twelve hours. Sometimes two months straight like this. Three years in a row in the eightees. Day after yawning day.. laying around...TV.. wandering.. group to small group. You can't even escape the one you don't like.... you are with him... twelve hours... three months...like a bad marriage.
In Alberta, at least, once a week we got a practice. We savoured that hour like a fine wine. It was always done in good weather and was usually conducted in a relaxed and enjoyable manner. It was always safe.... it was always fun. The one you didn't like enjoyed it too.

You can only have so many BBQ's... you can only play so much cards... We slept and whined and snivelled. Jokes wore thin.

So I was usually the ring leader and every year I had a scheme hatched to relieve the boredom. The chief pilot called me a lightening rod. I attracted all the trouble and someone else usually got the shit. I had it made.

So one year , I arrived on the base in Manning with complex plans for a spud gun. I recruited Rooster first so I could divert the heat. We had fun purchasing the plumbing and with our not so tight schedule, these guns were built to perfection and mine was highly modified. Rooster was a tobacco chewing redneck with a gruff voice... the perfect candidate to buy the propellant...Alberto VO5 hairspray. We all watched as Rooster growled at the dainty salesgirl, "Gimmee a case of that there Alberto VO5". She winced , then she eyed the few hairs that escaped under his EVER present ballcap. I think she was on to him. So back to the base for some test firing. The firing mechanism was a BBQ igniter that was borrowed from Forestry. Their potatoes were borrowed too. We cut the spud in two and tampted it down to just above the firing chamber. Next, the cleanout was unscrewed and a hiss of Alberto VO5 was introduced. The spud held the gas in tight.

Most people cowered and hid . I urged Rooster to get down below the muzzle and I lit her off. KAA-Fu*kin'-BOOM! The spud hurtled 100 yards plus. Morale problems for the summer disappeared as this cult like activity spread to other bases.

Then I get the memo. SHIT! Rooster ALWAYS got the memo's..... 'cause I usually caused them. Did I know, or have anything to do with the Phenomena of The Missing BBQ igniters Province wide?.
Shit! I hope they don't show up in a Dash 8 and investigate me like once before. Another story.
My modified one with the elongated combustion chamber was particularly menacing when the threaded end would blow out...and without ruining the threads. That shows how much the chamber expanded. I had to be re-enforced with huge hose clamps... guess whose inventory these depleted.
One day I spies this little dead bird so we decide to give him a final memorial flight. WE gently and respectfully smoothed his little feathers down and gently lowered him into the chamber. KA-fuc*in-BOOM! He rocketed skyward until zero g's and fell gently backwards. The wind drifted his corpse onto an unreachable part of the very hot tin roof of the equipment shed where little Wilbur graced us with his memorial to rotting flesh for a week or so.
We needed more challenges and so off we went to the Shrine of Intelligence for a few jugs.
Butch Foster had already built two homebuilts, a replica P51 and a P40. He was building his latest radio controlled P40 when thirty dollars worth of beer releived him of ownership of one of his models, an older P40 with a good engine.
Before stand -to the next day we all showed up in the forestry van at a friends farm where already there were twenty people with kids.
Word had spread fast in tiny Manning.
We used Yukon Gold potatoes as they were more dense and a good tight skin.. and gun teams consisting of a spud cutter, a loader/propellant man and the firer. Eric Ebert had gone to Peace River and had four missiles which were hooked up to the battery in the van. Butch, an old CF-100 pilot had to fly through this. And fly he did..he jinked wildly as he flew circuit after cuircut as the guns pounded away.. and the cattle stampeded to the neighbours, the missiles launched and missed the jinking P40...babies cried, my gun exploaded and the cleanout tore a gouge in the forestry van... on it flew.. C.B. Schmurdlap, the tiny pilot knew no fear.
Then Rooster got a hit..right into the prop and the engine quit but Butch glided to a rough landing. The kids ran across the field to capture the pilot and guess what? He wasn't in there so a long seach commenced.

So after all the paperwork.................

I did something I regret in Pincher Creek. We were going to measure hang time on a modified gun that fired a golf ball wrapped in electrical tape. Onto the tarmac we went. We fired it straight up....outa sight...Shit! Where is it... hands crept up to headtops and we crouched BOOOOING....next to my A26 it hit and up outta sight again... Oh Shit!.... the paperwork...
Lucky..that's what I was... never hit.

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Zatopec

Joined: Jan 26, 2002
Posts: 280
From: Hyperspace
Posted: 2003-05-21 18:12
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You're the best!
_________________
La seule place où le succès vient avant le travail, c'est dans le dictionnaire.

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-21 18:20
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One time I was based with a bunch of old Fire bomber pilots... two were 65+.

We were in Manning again and we were bored so we bought an old station wagon for a case of beer and we were rebuilding it from the junkyard. Even old Mac helped.

He had a face like George Chuvallo after his fight with Muhammed Ali and the biggest paws I had seen. He also had an attractive sixty year old wife and he used to go childlike in her presence. The long summer days had the fields smothered in dandelions and most had seeded into pom poms that blew everywhere.

Mac's wife was
driving up from BC that day and he was all ga-ga.

I wandered into the equipment shop for parts and there was Mac standing, in his socks, on the cement floor.... his shoes were in the vice. What? thinks I.
He was spraying his huge shoes with glossy Tremclad. "The bride's coming," he repeated breathlessly. "How do ya like the shoes?" They were wet and tacky.

I turned, in wonderment, to leave when I see down the road is coming a little Datsun pickup. It's Irene....she made good time.

I yelled to Mac, "It's her, it's Irene"

He started panting and mumbling erratically as he retrieved his shoes from the vice and hopped around pulling on his shoes.

The timing was perfect... she rolled into the parking lot as old Mac trotted across the dandelion infested grass , those massive shoes collecting huge furballs of puff seeds.
By the time he got to her to sweep her into his arms his shoes looked like giant bunny slippers and we all howled... and howled with laughter and Irene couldn't even keep a straight face.
It is the stuff of legend.

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Flashman

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 28 Posted: 2003-05-21 19:16
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Old Mac ...... unbelievable!

Those shoes ....Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha !

I was there.

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Sawmill Broad

Joined: Apr 08, 2003
Posts: 6 Posted: 2003-05-21 21:12
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Ohmigod! That is just too funny! Can't stop chuckling! Did anyone get a photo? hahaha love it....

So nice that there are still true White Knights out there.....with white shoes!!! lol

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Yak Driver

Joined: Apr 08, 2003
Posts: 19
From: Vancouver
Posted: 2003-05-22 10:49
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Hey Duke,

I'm sorry we weren't able to drag you down to California. It was a tough couple days of fun. The usual, lots of flying, lying and drinking (or something like that). I'm not sure if your little butt would have been able to handle all that time on the parachute. Mine was seriously numb.... But all the ACM, and formation was worthwhile.

Right now Chris and I are having fun with the Casa in Sweden, it doesn't get much better than this.

Please keep up the awesome posts, makes for great reading when while we sit watching the rain.

Here's a little teaser of what you missed

http://www.mercedsun-star.com/content/i ... ge%201.jpg

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-22 12:08
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WOW! I indeed did miss out... and look at the weather you had.

I heard from Dwayne in Ottawa last night and he says you blokes did your first production flight in Sweden.. good on yer mate.

Folks, let me tell you ... if you ever get a chance to fly a Yak, TAKE IT! It is a sweet, sweet airplane.

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-22 14:57
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One day, before the flying lobster event, I was hangin' about my motel room in Brantford ONT , waiting for nightfall in order to fly cargo to Yarmouth, N.S.

There was a knock on the door and there stood my co-pilot, who, incidentley, was soon to endure one hell of an adventure out over the Atlantic.

He ambled up to me and mumbled something like, "here this is for you" and never did really look at me .. . then, away he went.
There was a small shopping bag in my hand.

Inside was a nice pentagon shaped wooden box, which, upon opening, was a clock.

Inside was engraved 'HONOUR IS A MAN'S GIFT TO HIMSELF"

So he did pay attention. I had told him this months ago and I was touched.

Honour is hard won.

In the eightees, there were four of us in A26's and we had taken off from Manning for a leisurley base change to High Level, less than an hour away. There was Bhudda the base manager, Turbo, Mr Magoo and me. I had an engineer riding with me and he promptly went to sleep. We had all levelled off at the same altitude and were in sight of each other. The sun was warm thru the canopy but it was smooth. I could see the Peace River to my right and three bombers to my left. We droned on.

Magoos's bomber was slowly making it's way toward me so I kept an eye out and waited for his call. Maybe he wanted to formate , take some pictures... maybe not.No call.

He was exactly at my altitude and now I could see his helmet clearly thru the canopy .... looking down at a map. I shook Kirk awake and pointed to my left. His eyes went as big as dog's balls. We had no intercom. I dove gently and let him roar overhead maybe fifty feet away.

We then watched him to our right. He must have seen the Peace and realized he was too far East and banked left ...... RIHT TOWARD US AGAIN. The first thing he saw was my A26 and he dived sharply away. Kirk simply shook his head.

Magoo must have poured on the coals because we didn't see him again till we landed. I taxied for fuel and shut down.

We sat on the wing and waited. I said to Kirk, "Listen Mate! We know that was stoopid of Magoo but I would like to keep our mouths shut because he is old and Bhudda has been trying to get rid of him ... this would do him in"
"No worries," says Kirk, "I agree"

The gooper comes running over to tell us there is an important meeting and I should attend so Kirk said he would refuel for me. So I amble over to the briefing room. That alone pissed Bhudda off and that was my sport.

Bhudda drew himself up to full height and, pompously droning on.... "It has been reported to me," he says looking straight at me. I knew nothing. He seemed to think he had me...on something... " that a very ser..."

Those are the few words he got out when the spring went off in my arse that rocketed me out of my chair, finger already pointing..
I knew what was coming..
"Enough!!," I bellowed as I strode to the door and in my Army voice, "invited" Kirk to join us.
I spun around, "Nothing more till he gets here!"

Kirk arrived. "Tell this group here what happened" He related the story calmly,

You see, Magoo had rushed to town to squeel on me.

"More importantly," says I, "Kirk, what did I say on the wing"

Again, he explained how I had tried to protect Magoo. I glanced at Magoo and saw a 66 year old man with tears in his eyes ... he had realized his fu*k up.

I strode outside and was on my own when I was approached by Magoo. He aplologized... and asked for forgiveness.

A simple "yes" was a good investment in a long friendship that endures to this day.

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Rebel

Joined: Nov 13, 2001
Posts: 579 Posted: 2003-05-22 17:14
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They call it the D.B Cooper switch... could someone elaborate on this?

Hi Duke I'm very sorry to learn of your illness and I'm sure with your positive attitude that you'll beat it...I will say a prayer for you.

The Cooper switch was simplicity in itself. The engineers installed a vane on the outside of the fuselage that blocked the rear stair opening circuit when air flowed over it.

I wish you a speedy recovery and please keep the stories coming as they are simply fantastic...

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Fly1

Joined: Oct 17, 2002
Posts: 149 Posted: 2003-05-22 17:29
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Duke Elegant...please keep the stories coming, they are awesome. Best of luck with your fight...wish I could have been your co-pilot on some of these trips A career most of us could only wish for!

Take care,
Fly1

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Linecrew

Joined: Jan 02, 2003
Posts: 60
From: Canada
Posted: 2003-05-23 09:19
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Neat follow on...the last 7 airworthy spruce budworm spraying Avengers are up for sale! I found the company's website and saw this: http://www.forestprotectionltd.com/tbmforsale.htm

[ This Message was edited by: linecrew on 2003-05-23 12:01 ]

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MissFortune

Joined: May 27, 2003
Posts: 1
From: Montre-ALL!!!
Posted: 2003-05-27 11:44
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my dear dad,
well well well...look who's here. me. we spoke of your latest posts the other day and i have been glued to my computer all morning. is it duke elegant...or duke eloquent? very well written, dad. you do certainly weave a fine tale...and to all you out there - most of it is actually true!!! (hehe.) i too wanted to give you props (no pun intended) to encourage you in your writing endeavors. as you well know, and have taught me (yes, i was listening - sometimes): when one door is closed, another is opened. you may not be up in the air, but you've found your other passion and talent in words.
i'll be back here soon...keep writing!

talk to you later...

me.

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Duke Elegant

Joined: Nov 28, 2002
Posts: 264 Posted: 2003-05-27 13:09
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WOW! My daughter is a fan?...... What a concept.

THE BIG EQUALIZER

There is quite a tale coming folks, be patient .... but I HAVE to pass this on .... just happened...

I was at the cancer ward, but this time only to have a dressing change so I was in good spirits and joking with the staff.

In the corner , where I could only see by peering around some equipment, was a little old lady, hooked up to some machines and covered with a blanket. She was reading.

A man walked by me and towards her. I recognized him, a rather scurrilous individual and an aircraft engineer. He had a company on the Island and I played a major role in having him bankrupted but not before he had releived some older people of large sums of money. I was general manager of a company in the same building so I boinked, then stole his secretary.

We even had to "steal" a helicopter from his hangar for a young damsel in distress, to whom I later provided "some comfort".

I watched him. She broke into a wide smile when she saw him and he lovingly cared for her. Thoughts of his deeds rushed through my mind and I recalled his jail time for switching data plates on a helicopter, and the many cutomers he had screwed.

Well.... what now?

So I leaned around the machine and said, "G'Day! Do you folks recognize me?"

She didn't, he went white.

There was not a shred of malice or negativity in me so I disarmed him and, with kind words, had a wonderful conversation with them.
We are all in this together.