The First Leg(s)

We bound (?) out of bed at 4:30 and are headed to Smyrna, TN, 30 minutes away to pick up 11 golfers and take them to Myrtle Beach for their annual outing. We being John Thatcher, retired AA pilot, Lewis Drake, who joined the Foundation when he stopped for gas in Shelbyville, spotted the Flagship and fell in love, Gene and me. The interior has been restored to its 1937 spendor. It does not have a working bathroom, nor heat, nor air and the seats are tiny. In fact, one of the guys ends up sitting in the cockpit on the jump seat as he just will not fit. They have joined the Foundation for $150 which includes being able to ride in the plane if it comes near where you are. They have paid an extra $150 to be able to take a journey in it. John acts as Stewardess, giving a pre flight orientation, and continuing with commentary, questions and answers during flight. He even hands out pretzels and water and collects trash near the end of the flight. It starts out about 40 degrees, but gets a little warmer as we near the coast. I have not had anything to drink since supper the night before to compensate for 3 hours flying time with no bathrooms, but start drinking water when we are almost there.

We land in Myrtle Beach where it is warm and breezy. All the men stampede for the restrooms and stand in line bitching that they have to wait. We munch on popcorn provided by the FBO (Fixed Base Operator). Luckily I had brought a couple of protein bars on board and Gene had a cinnamon roll in Smryna. We are on the ground just long enough to load all the men, luggage and golf clubs into rental cars and wave good bye. Too bad, because this place looks interesting. On take off, we briefly go out over the ocean and it looks so blue and inviting. Oh, well, we are not on our own time!

For this leg Gene and I ride in the cockpit. I am in the jumpseat and he on a padded platform across from me. The view is panoramic from here. Being down so low means a much better view of things on the ground. A mere 36 miles later we stop for gas in Marion County cause they have cheap gas and this baby burns over 90 gallons per hour! We bought over 500 gallons....and you think your buggy burns gas! Everyone gapes as we taxi in. There is a young man there in a tiny very red plane which says "U.S. aerobatic team" on the tail. He is headed to Lakeland, FL to practice for Fun and Sun fly-in which starts April 13. We may be there too. This is his first year. We all admire his ride, he admires ours. Everyone admires ours. The staff of the FBO takes a tour, the areobatic guy, another guy who wanders up and 6 Civil Air Patrol guys who land while we are refueling. Oh, I forgot the UPS lady and her side kick. They are all so excited that I dig out brochures and hand them all one. Then it is payback time. The plane does not have a reverse, so we recruit all the bystanders and we all push on the stabilizers or tires or landing gear and gradually roll the plane away from the fuel farm far enough to turn it around. And off we go again.

Like our camper, this plane goes slower than normal so the 45 minutes to Greenville stretches into an hour. George's good friend, Charlie, has put together an event here for Sunday and Monday. Just come out and see the plane and maybe we can sell memberships and rides. Also we have some tee shirts, hats and lapel pins. Not much since the cargo space was full of golf clubs. It is almost 5 when we get there and there is a small but enthsiastic greeting party. They are friends and relatives of Chalie, plus Charlie himself. They greet us like long lost family. Again everyone comes out of the FBO. Then another woman comes up and asks me if I came in on the plane and when I tell her I did, she said "You all flew right over my house. I heard those engines (they sound sorta like a Harley) and yelled to my husband. Something interesting is going over." Turns out her father was born in Porterdale. And she is friends with Bernadette and Ray Smith, two Covington artists. All these folks pitch in:getting our luggage off the plane, they roll in coolers with soft drinks and beer and submarine sandwiches and chips. Oh, yeah, and chocolate chip cookies. "Maude, these folks haven't eaten all day! Fetch the coolers!" Then they pitch in to help turn the props through to prevent hydraulic lock, they crawl up on the wing and help Gene add oil, and they get rags and start cleaning the plane! One of them has donated his Suburban for us to use while we are here and they have made reservations at a hotel that is on airport property, a stone's throw away. John keeps mentioning things we were unable to bring due to space and one or another of them say, we got it, we'll bring it! Wow! These are go-getter enthusiastic people. The FBO line boy is even cleaning the plane.

So we are here in our room, tuckered out. I feel guilty for being tired as the guys have worked so hard. You really FLY a DC3...not like many of the planes Gene flies by turning dials and pushing buttons, this one you man handle and it takes two people even to start an engine. And luckily, we do not have to leave here until after 9AM tomorrow. I will try to do a better job with the photos. Should have taken one of the little red plane.