CHAPTER 1

ADVENTURE NO. 1:THE BEGINNING

The adventures began in Chicago, Illinois one summer Saturday eveningon July 10, 1976 at a social dance that my wife, Edna and I attended atthe invitation of a close friend. We had been married about ten yearsand except for a lot of hard work trying to survive in a small business,we did not do too much of anything but attend yearly social functionslike this one. The same friends dressed up and spent time with drinksin hand talking and gossiping and exchanging experiences. After mosthad a few drinks the dancing started and this group knew how to dance.I was known for my dancing and on this particular night did a lot ofit. After having had more than my share of alcoholic drinks, I startedwaving my arms up and down like a person doing the "chicken", adance popular at that time and then I started making crazy statementsabout wanting to fly like a bird. It all drew a few laughs and the morepeople laughed the more I danced and talked about flying like a bird.I had spent many Saturday evenings in the past exhibiting this sameaimless behavior. There seemed to be nothing better for me to do. Ihad practically exhausted myself when there was a tug on my arm andmy good friend, Dr. Wilbur Pettitt, pulled me aside and said that heoccasionally goes flying with a friend on Sundays and would I like togo with them. "You can get a chance to fly like a bird" he said smiling.I retorted "What are you saying; go flying like a bird?". In my drunkenstupor nothing else occurred to me but to say "yes" after making thesewild statements. "Yes that would be great". Having said that I expectedto hear no more about it. I managed to get home safely and got a prettygood nights sleep. To my surprise, early the next morning, Wilbur calledme to make good on his invitation and said that they were going flyingtoday and to meet him at the Lansing, Illinois Airport about noon at thenorth side of the field at a hanger on the west end . "This will give youtime enough for the alcoholic drinks to wear off". I reluctantly acceptedthe invitation and he then gave me specific directions on how to get tothe airport. Edna cooked a delightful breakfast and after eating, perhapsmy last meal, I showered and was on my way. Remembering my tripto the airport I thought about kicking myself for agreeing to this crazyadventure. I am not a "fraidy cat" but this flying; well I really don'tknow. As the landscape passed by, I kept thinking that this might bethe last time seeing it. I had no experience flying and at 47 years old,wasn't doing too bad on the ground; why take a chance on my life byflying around in a small airplane. While pondering these ideas, a fiftyminute ride to the airport seemed like only ten minutes. I got confusedabout the directions and thought that it might be a good idea to go backhome, where it was safe, and tell Wilbur about getting lost. But howwould that look? Knowing Wilbur, every time he would see me againhe would laugh and say that I was all talk and no action. I just couldn'thave that. After driving around in Lansing, I stumbled on the airport.When I got inside the airport I parked my car in the small parking lot atthe west side of the hanger and there was Wilbur waiting for me at thegate with a big smile on his face as if to say "you are not the chicken Ithought you were". Wilbur greeted me with his usual greeting "brotherJohn" and said "you did find the airport" and then he walked me outto the plane through a long line of planes parked facing each other. Heintroduced me to Dr. Russ Ellison, the pilot, a very pleasant man, buton his knees under the wing obviously concerned about the conditionof the airplane. He was looking at the fuel in a small test tube andexamining the plane like a mechanic who was trying to find out whatwas wrong. My confidence sank and I wondered what in the world wasI was getting into.

It was a beautiful July day and the airport was very busy. Smallplanes were landing and taking off. Occasionally a large airplane, not asbig as an airliner but with at least two engines, would take off or land.Other pilots were working on their airplanes and they too were doingthe same thing Russ was doing; on their knees examining the planeas if something was wrong with it. Wilbur had brought his daughterStephne along with us, however, she appeared completely at ease withthe prospect of going flying.

Russ completed what he said was a preflight inspection. He smiledsuspecting my apprehension and after completing this inspection anddoing a few other things to the plane we piled into the cockpit and theyplaced me in the front seat along with the pilot. If something happenedI would surely get it first along with the pilot, like in an automobile. Theinside of the plane was similar to an automobile but there were manymore dials, levers and switches on the dashboard and it was also morecramped than in a car. Some of the dials were recognizable like theRPM gage and the airspeed gage, which was similar to the speedometerin a car but there were at least two levels of dials and a bunch of switchesand levers. And then there was this big lever with a black handle andanother one with a red handle. Not at all like in a car. I wondered ifRuss had to use all of these devices to fly the airplane. After everyonewas seated, Russ looked around to see if all seat belts were fastenedand he then opened a little window on the side next to him and thenturned the key in the ignition switch similar to starting a car and at thesame timed called out "contact". Not the same way you would start acar. The engine and the propellor struggled to turn over. He did thisfor a moment, stopped and did it again and presto the engine startedrunning; very fast at first then he pulled back on one of the big handlesand the engine slowed down a bit. Russ looked around again to see thateverything was all right and he smiled at me knowing that this was myfirst experience flying. He was a doctor used to making people feel atease. However, this didn't do too much to quiet my fears. Russ releasedthe emergency brake and we started to move. We taxied from the ramponto the taxi way which paralleled the runway and when we reachedthe end of the taxis way he turned the plane around in the direction ofthe runway and started racing the engine; you know how guys do, thesame as in a car; pushing down on the accelerator to race the enginebefore they move. But this was different, he left the engine runningand pushed a few levers back and forth. I thought he must be making amistake. It looked like he was going to take off from the taxis way. EvenI could see that this wasn't right. Russ saw my concern and explainedthat this was a runup to put the engine under stress to check the statusof the engine and certain instruments. I guess he explained that, becausemy apprehension of this flight was so great that what he said passed inone ear and out of the other. We then taxied onto the runway and Russmade a few statements on the radio; I vaguely remember that becausethis anxiety was building in anticipation of this take off. Russ lookedover at me to see if my seat belt was fastened as any good captain woulddo and he again smiled because he knew what I was going through. Thereal excitement didn't start until he pushed the throttle full forward,a long takeoff run and we suddenly became airborne. We were about50 feet above the ground when it hit me like a sledge hammer. Theexcitement of feeling like a bird looking down at the ground at thingsthat were getting smaller as we ascended was positively exhilarating. Idon't even remember where we went, because of the feeling that thiswas for me, kept swirling through my brain. This is what I have beenlooking for all of my life. I cannot explain the thrill that I got fromthis experience. We flew around the south end of Chicago for a while;I'm not sure because I couldn't understand this new found emotion.We finally returned to the airport and set up for landing and this too,was very exciting. To see how Russ approached the airport, circled in apattern then turned toward the runway and the runway got bigger andbigger and then we were on the ground safe and sound. Russ parked theplane and after deplaning I thanked both Russ and Wilbur for such anenjoyable trip. But they didn't realize the profound effect that it had onme. As I drove back home the landscape had a different meaning to me,not the same as going out to the airport. I rushed to get home to explainto Edna this new feeling and I remember she was also excited that I hadsuch an enjoyable experience. I thought about it all night and the nextmorning cancelled all of my appointments and went out to MidwayAirport to see what could be done about learning to fly.

Midway Airport was different at that time. All of the airline flightshad been discontinued and most of the people flying out of Midway weregeneral aviation pilots and private pilots. The only interest that mostpeople had in Midway was the famous restaurant called "ShipwreckKelly's" that was still in existence at the old Terminal Building. Mostpeople around Chicago had been to this restaurant. As fate would haveit, I went to the north side of the airport to one of the two large hangersthat I had seen all of my life but never thought much about what wenton inside. I parked my car and went inside and was surprised that thehangers were filled with small airplanes and people were moving abouttaking care of their business. No one even noticed me. I inquired ofseveral people about learning to fly and they stopped to explain to methat there were two ways to do it. You could enroll in a school and fora certain amount of money, they would teach you to fly or you couldjoin a club and pay as you go and learn with others as a group. Thatsounded like the best idea so they directed me to "Chester's Club". AsI remember, there were no fees but you simply paid an instructor bythe hour and paid for renting one of Chester's planes. Thus began anadventure, an adventure in flying that was to change the rest of my lifeand last in my memory forever.

I was well received by Chester who explained the rules for joininghis club and if I was interested he would hook me up with an instructorand fortunately he had an instructor available at that time. He thenintroduced me to Steve, who was to be my instructor. Steve was aChicago policeman who had a passion for flying and taught others tofly on his off days. I remember his words, "so you want to go flying."And a flying we went. Learning to fly is an adventure in itself and I willnot go into this adventure until a little later. In some respects learningto fly is the most interesting time of flying but instead I will tell aboutmy first two adventures after getting my license.

CHAPTER 2

ADVENTURE NO.2:A TRIP DOWNSOUTH TO CROWLEY,LOUISIANA

After getting my license about a year later, I had to convince my wifeto go flying. She had told me that she did not mind my flying but justdon't ask her to go with me; she had suffered through the trials andtribulations of my learning to fly, but that was the end of it. After muchurging she agreed to try flying just once but insisted that if she didn'tlike it that she was not to be prodded again. She reluctantly went to theairport with me and this turned out to be much like the first time flyingwith Russ and Wilbur about a year ago. After going into the routineof explaining every thing to her about the preflight inspection she wasstill very apprehensive of taking off. The fear was in her eyes as if to say,"this is crazy". We made the same long take off run and then becameairborne. The plane behaved very well and after leveling off at altitudeand after making a few turns to get on course, I looked over at her andshe was smiling and said "this isn't so bad". Whew! Saved by the bell.Can you imagine what flying would be like alone. It took several moretrips before she really began to enjoy it but I knew I was in when shestarted correcting my technique just like she does at home.

After getting the nod from Edna, I decided to buy my own airplane.There were two very likable guys that owned Midway Aircraft Brokers,Jim Carton and Gene Gartke who had befriended me and they had ahigh performance Piper Cherokee with retractable landing gear and 180hp. engine that looked pretty good. They might have made a sale exceptthat I couldn't get a loan from the University Bank of Chicago for thefinancing which was only $15,000.00. The bank was all set to make theloan until they found a $250.00 judgement against me from the GasCo. for some gas ranges purchased on credit for one of my jobs. Thejudgement was paid but they failed to register that fact. At the time, Iwas a general contractor with almost 20 years of paying bills amountingto more than a million dollars. Becoming angry over this, I decided tosave the money and pay cash for the airplane. While saving the money,a friend of my father's who was a doctor at Our Lady of Mercy hospitalin Dyer, Indiana had a plane to sell also for $15000.00; a Piper Cherokee180 with a fixed landing gear. In order to sell the plane he had a newlyrebuilt engine installed. After asking a few people in the know whichwas the better airplane; their advice was to buy the plane with the newengine. As I look back, this was good advice, because the engine is theheart of the airplane. Having saved the money by this time, I agreedto the sale.

The plane was based at the Hobart Airport in Indiana, so on the5th of November 1977 I drove over to Hobart to look at the airplane. Itwas thrilling to think that this airplane, 7977N was going to be mine.On returning the next day and at the direction of the owner, one of theFlight Instructors took me up with me in the left seat to familiarize mewith the characteristics of the plane. This is called "being checked outin type". This plane was a Cherokee 180 and was slightly bigger, heavierand more powerful than the Cherokee 140 which I had been rentingfrom Chester. After a few landings and other maneuvers, I felt as if Ihad been flying this plane all of the time.

After these trial runs, I purchased the airplane and on the 24th ofNovember, my son Johnny Jr. drove me to the Hobart Airport and Itook possession of 7977N. I flew back to Midway alone and tied downalong with Chester's airplanes.

Most small plane flying ceased starting with December and didn'tresume again until late February or early March. 7977N was in thehanger during this time while making repairs. The plane was in faircondition but needed a lot of work both interior and exterior. The radioswere bad and the interior upholstery was coming apart. With the helpof an upholsterer, who had experience with aviation materials, I rebuiltthe side walls and recovered and painted the seats. The exterior work wasperformed by a licensed aviation mechanic. New radios were installedby J.A. Avionics on the DuPage Airport. I spent many evenings andSaturdays and Sundays in a labor of love putting together a plane thatI could fly with confidence. The only repair needed when I completedwas an exterior paint job which could come later. It took me until earlyspring, 1978 to get my plane the way I wanted. I flew around locallythe rest of 1978 landing at just about every airport in the area exceptO'Hare and Edna and I spent enjoyable weekends flying here and there.We spent overnight trips in the Wisconsin Dells, Ludington, Michigan,Detroit, Michigan, Benton Harbor, Michigan, etc. All of this time Iwas gaining experience in cross country flying, filing flight plans andlearning airport procedures, but it wasn't until the Spring of 1979 thatwe started planning long range cross country flights.

In the mid spring of 1979 when Edna, a school teacher, was onvacation, we decided to take a trip down south to Louisiana to see hersister Lois and her husband Joe who lived in Crowley. So late morningMay, 26, 1979 I filed a VFR flight plan to Crowley, Louisiana andaround noon we were off. The trip was as smooth as silk with greatvisuals of the terrain. Edna was my navigator and back up radio woman.As the day went by we realized that we could not make Crowley beforenightfall so we decided to stop at Mound Bayou, Mississippi, Edna'sbirth place. Mound Bayou did not have an airport so we planned alanding at Cleveland, Mississippi, a nearby town approximately fourmiles to the south.

Mound Bayou was a sleepy little town settled by ex- slaves in 1870looking for a better life and Edna's mother was the daughter of one ofthe original settlers. Before meeting Edna, the only thing I had everheard about Mound Bayou was in a blues song that we danced to in ourteens. Cleveland, which had developed much faster than Mound Bayou,was the only place that had a motel, so we spent the night there.