It was then, even more than with the One Small Step, that Neil Armstrong won his place in history.
Photo: NASA/Science Photo Library
At about 0915 PST last Tuesday, Capt. Carroll 'Lex' LeFon, USN (Ret'd), died when the IAI F-21A Kfir that he was piloting crashed just inside the west gate of Fallon NAS in Nevada. I infer that he was returning from a sortie flown on behalf of his employer to provide "dissimilar type" aggressor aircraft services to the Navy so our young fighter pilots will be better equipped to stay alive and prevail in future encounters. As far as I'm concerned, Capt. LeFon died in the line of duty, serving our country.
There was another side to Lex. He maintained a blog at Neptunus Lex where he wrote eloquently of military affairs and the sea and politics and life. And flying. He wrote with an immediacy that pulled the reader into the cockpit and into the reality of flying the fast-movers. His writing could get your heart beating faster, could get your blood flowing. So I ignored (with difficulty) his politics and reveled in his exquisite tales of the airman's world. (The blog will be there; go on over and read his work.)
Lex retired from the Navy in 2008 and thought to make a second career working at a desk. But that ability was not given to him, so he went back to flying jets. Specifically the Kfir, which is sort of a tinfoil airframe wrapped around a roaring J-79 afterburning turbojet. He had to have loved it.
He also loved the poetry of William Butler Yeats. And so these words, taken from W.H. Auden's "In Memory of W. B. Yeats", seem to serve:
He disappeared in the dead of winter:
The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
And snow disfigured the public statues;
The mercury sank in the mouth of the dying day.
What instruments we have agree
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
- - - - -
But in the importance and noise of to-morrow
When the brokers are roaring like beasts on the floor of the Bourse,
And the poor have the sufferings to which they are fairly accustomed,
And each in the cell of himself is almost convinced of his freedom,
A few thousand will think of this day
As one thinks of a day when one did something slightly unusual.
What instruments we have agree
The day of his death was a dark cold day.
"...it is very good for the character to engage in sports which put your life in danger from time to time. It breeds a saneness in dealing with day-to-day trivialities which probably cannot be got in any other way, and a habit of quick decisions."This was written by Nevil Shute Norway in his autobiography, Slide Rule. And he did engage in such sporting activities: offshore yachting, motor racing, and aerial exhibitions. Air racing fits neatly into this context and has, in fact, a long heritage in aeronautical development.
Pat and I had met Shannon and Elizabeth only recently, but we were immediately drawn to them. We spent most of a recent party sitting with them poolside, talking flying and airplanes and travel and family. They were relaxed and friendly and warm. We parted with plans to get in touch about organizing a "fly-out" for pilots based at KVKX. Shannon was a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Army. He'd graduated from West Point in 1991, and had served our country in the Balkans and in several posts in Africa. Currently posted to the Pentagon, he was a a noted expert on African affairs. Elizabeth was a patent and securities attorney in private practice, and a mom with two small children.
Shannon Beebe, a Commercial Pilot, was consumed by a love of flying. He didn't have an airplane of his own but he had lots of friends with airplanes and never seemed in want of a ride. He had logged 1,000 hours of bush flying in Alaska and Africa and that, along with seaplane flying, was what he loved the most. The airplane he was flying last Sunday was a friend's Maule M-7-235 on amphibious floats. The NTSB's Preliminary Report quotes a witness, in part:
...he had observed the airplane enter the downwind leg of the traffic pattern for the runway and while turning from the base leg to the final leg of the approach the airplane banked to the left. The airplane appeared to continue to bank to approximately 75 degrees, at which point the nose pitched over to an almost vertical attitude. The airplane impacted the ground in an open field prior to the runway threshold, and exploded.
This one hurts a lot.
"The only time an aircraft has too much fuel on board is when it is on fire."
-- attributed to Capt. Ernest K. Gann
"Directly below the B-17 was a farmer’s field and the decision was made to land immediately. Approximately 1 minute and 40 seconds from the radio report of the fire, the B-17 was down safely on the field. Within that 1:40 time frame, the crew shutdown and feathered the number 2 engine, activated the engine’s fire suppression system, lowered the landing gear and performed an on-speed landing. Bringing the B-17 to a quick stop, the crew and passengers quickly and safely exited the aircraft."Most of the photos of this incident seen in the press depict the airframe completely ravaged by fire, giving the impression of an airplane meeting a violent end. The picture above tells us that this was not a "crash". In fact, Liberty Belle's pilots turned in a superb piece of airmanship getting the big Boeing on the ground, in an emergency, on an unprepared field, with the whole crew able to walk away. If fire apparatus had been able to gain access, the airplane may well have flown again.
But the key here was the rapidity with which the airplane was put on the ground once fire was detected. Fire in the sky gives you no time to waste. There have been far too many in-flight fires where time was either wasted or inadequate and tragedy ensued.
I wish that was the end of the story this week. We could regret the loss of a precious old airplane while rejoicing in the safety of her crew. But, fire in the sky wasn't done with us.
Word was slow coming from across the sea about the loss to fire of a blimp operating in Germany under contract to Goodyear. It's too soon to know the cause of the fire, but its consequences are tragically clear. The pilot got the airship close to the ground and told his three passengers to jump.The airship pilot, Capt. Mike Nerandzic was a veteran of many years and many thousands of hours of blimp operations. He had to know exactly what would happen when 250 kilos of passenger weight suddenly exited the aircraft. Still, he told his passengers to jump, and they lived. The blimp shot upward and soon was completely ablaze. Mike Nerandzic, 52, from Australia, died in the fire.
Fire in the sky is a terrible thing. If it comes for us, there is so little we can do. We obsess about maintenance, we operate our systems conservatively, and we resolve to seek the ground at the first hint of spark or smoke. And we hope for the best.
Photo: Paul Riley/news.com.auThe news was bad...as bad as it could be. And yet, not unexpected. We all knew what was likely and we all made a concerted effort to ignore the odds and to hope. And for those that believed, to pray. But deep, deep inside we weren't kidding ourselves. Nonetheless, Kyle Franklin's post on his Facebook page last evening was gut wrenching.
The entire aviation community rallied to Amanda's support. But this time, no miracles will be forthcoming. The effects of her burns have overwhelmed the defenses of her young, fit body and the skills and determination of the best medical specialists in the world at Brook Army Medical Center's Burn Center.
Kyle has told us that he and Amanda's family have asked her care-givers to cease their heroic efforts to prolong her life. With this inconceivably difficult decision on his part, her way West is now open. Soon she'll be gone, joining the other aviators that have followed the trail blazed by Otto Lilienthal so long ago. His last words: "Opfer müssen gebracht werden!" "Sacrifices must be made."
But why? Why must these sacrifices be made? What god, behind what altar, thirsts after the blood and flesh of these splendid young people? Look, if you will, at this list of airshow incidents beginning in 1910 and ending with Kyle and Amanda's accident. It's a horrible butcher's bill.
I've been to my share of airshows. I've watched Sean Tucker and Mike Goulian do things with airplanes that I'd have thought impossible. I've watched the aerial demonstration teams light up the sky with the splendor of their performances. But I think I'm done. The game isn't worth the candle.
If a pilot wants to take a fully aerobatic airplane out to the practice area and "wring it out," more power to her. If this is what you're reaching for, may you find it:
"Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirthBut I'll no longer accept the Roman circuses. Enough of "The show must go on!" Just as aviation outgrew the time of the Barnstormers, perhaps we've outgrown the high-risk airshow exhibition. It's not my place to say it shouldn't be allowed...but it is my prerogative to say that I won't watch anymore.
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air."
UPDATE: A little after 10 PM CDT on Friday 27 May, 2011, Amanda Franklin passed away. She was surrounded by those who loved her and in the thoughts of aviators everywhere.
Regulars at this blog may have noticed the link to Aerofiles in the "interesting links" list in the sidebar. If you've clicked thereon and spent any time at all poking about, you know that it's an amazing resource - a compendium of incredibly detailed information about nearly every aircraft ever built in the United States. It's where I've gone for years to turf up the goods on any obscure flying machine of interest. Aerofiles is the product of the remarkable knowledge and passion for aviation of K.O. Eckland.
I found the following biographical information here (scroll down):
K.O. Eckland, 83, passed away Monday, May 4, 2009, at his home in Paradise, Calif. K.O. was born in Cleveland, Ohio, and grew up in Berkeley, Calif. While in the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II, he met his future wife, Lucille Callison, a USO girl, in Spokane, Wash. They lived in Shell Beach for a few years where K.O. was a freelance commercial artist, then they moved to Los Angeles where he became a commercial artist for the Los Angeles Times. In 1976, K.O. returned to Pismo Beach, where he contributed articles to the Telegram-Tribune. He became active in the local traditional jazz community...The dust jacket of my local library's somewhat battered copy of "A Gift of Wings" ((c)1974) tells us that: "K.O. ECKLAND, who illustrated this book, is a Graphic Design Consultant in Van Nuys, California, with an inborn love for drawing airplanes. He flies his own J-3 Cub." And the book is profusely adorned with beautifully shaded pencil renderings of airplanes...and of gulls, and of clouds, and of aviators going about their business of slipping the surly bonds...
K.O. Eckland left behind a large body of work - a favorite part of which was the Aerofiles.com website, as his greatest love was flying airplanes. He illustrated Richard Bach's book "A Gift of Wings," and contributed articles to aviation magazines over the years. K.O. was proud to be a member of the San Luis Obispo Sheriff's Aero Squadron and had been active with the Paso Robles Estrella Warbird Museum.
K.O.'s second greatest love was traditional jazz. After hearing Turk Murphy at Earthquake McGoon's in San Francisco and Lu Watters' Yerba Buena Jazz Band in Berkeley after the War, he wanted to play jazz piano. He played piano in several bands over the years, notably the Firehouse Five Plus 2, the Desolation Jazz Ensemble & Mess Kit Repair Battalion and the Pismo Experimental Jazz Band. K.O. produced two compendiums of jazz bands and musicians, Jazz West and Jazz West 2. He enjoyed writing tunes which have been recorded by contemporary traditional jazz bands.
K.O. had moved to Paradise in 2004 to be close to family members, where he also shared the remainder of his life with Waldo, the cat. K.O. leaves his children Daniel and his wife Faye Eckland, who have adopted Waldo, Nancy Berkley and Taina Eckland; ex-wife, Lucille Eckland; and two grandsons Ryan and Beau Berkley. A memorial will take place at the Pismo Beach "Jubilee by the Sea" October 2009.
K.O. Eckland was a noteworthy jazz musician. He was a talented illustrator. He was an author. But it seems that at his core, he was an aviator. One of his close friends from the world of jazz, Will Connelly, added this:
A dimension of KO Eckland - he spelled it "Eckl&" - with which jazz people may not be aware is his involvement in aviation. A bombardier in WWII, KO was later to own a 1920's vintage biplane and flew in flowing silk scarf and goggled helmet for Talmantz Aviation. That company is famed for its aerial work, including classic combat dogfights with Spads, Fokkers and other First WW aircraft in Hollywood epics.
But KO's legacy in aviation rivals his contributions in the jazz milieu. He founded, and was curator of, the internationally acclaimed Aerofiles Museum, an online compilation of descriptions, technical and performance specifications and photographs of thousands of civil and military aircraft since the beginnings of the age of flight. The archives include data on engines, notable events and people.
Ron Dupas, webmaster of 1000 Airplane Photos offers this recollection of K.O.'s input as he was setting up his site:
He gave an additional piece of advice which ran contrary to the prevailing attitudes at the time: he told me that our function was to preserve aviation history and that we should not act as though we were in competition with other aviation sites; that airplane photos and information were for sharing. K.O. had an amazing vision about how the internet should be used, and the result was a web site recognized and valued by aviation enthusiasts throughout the world, Aerofiles.com.
If you delve into aerofiles.com you'll find many examples of K.O. Eckland's wry wit. Indeed , tongue firmly in cheek, he shared (here (be sure to read the URL) his "vision" about the Internet, saying:
This is the projected site for my Home Page.
However, before I go through a lot of needless work,
I'm waiting to see it this Internet thing ever catches on.
K.O. normally updated the aerofiles.com site at the beginning of each year, noting how many visitors had been hosted in the preceding twelve-month. (It was the absence of this update that twigged me to the notion that something was amiss and got me google-ing after the news - which proved unhappy.) So now, aerofiles endures, bereft of its soul. Since the content is largely historical, it can continue to offer inestimable value as a static resource (as long as somebody pays for the bandwidth). But I hope that someone who shares K.O.'s passion will pick up the torch and carry his work forward.
Dave English's Great Aviation Quotes site has one entry attributed to K.O. Eckland. I like it a lot:
Within all of us is a varying amount of space lint and star dust, the residue from our creation. Most are too busy to notice it, and it is stronger in some than others. It is strongest in those of us who fly and is responsible for an unconscious, subtle desire to slip into some wings and try for the elusive boundaries of our origin.
"His luck ran out."
We hear about the mishap. Usually it involves a fellow aviator connected to us only by our shared commitment to life in the sky. But sometimes we know the name.
And someone says, "His luck ran out." Of course, there is no such thing as luck.
Our universe is irremediably stochastic. We are buffeted by the randomness of events in our world and we navigate through the resulting turbulence as best we can. Most days, we survive and even thrive. Some days, we feel relieved to get through it all undamaged. And on a few very rare, very scary days, our lives are in the balance and our skills are tested. Not everyone passes the test.
"His luck ran out," they say and we know the name. We know he was a skilled aviator, a good stick. Maybe we only "know" him from reading his comments on an internet forum. But when we saw his name we'd come to expect cogent, thoughtful, useful input. And our feeling was, we'd fly with him anywhere. But..."His luck ran out."
You fly for many hours and everything is just routine. "How was your flight," your colleagues ask. "Uneventful." Then, every so often, Fate gives a pop quiz. Just to see if you've been paying attention. Perhaps there is weather you didn't expect. Perhaps the controller clears you to a fix neither you nor the GPS anticipated. Maybe some useful part of the airplane decides to stop working. Nothing too hard - you get to think on your feet and solve the problem. That's what we aviators do.
And sometimes, Fate gives a Final Exam. The grading is Pass/Fail. If you pass, you get to keep on living. If you fail...
When the universe deals you a Final Exam-type situation your response has to be perfectly accurate and perfectly precise. A very good pilot with excellent skills and training, with no dangerous attitudes, with a wonderful airplane meticulously maintained and superbly equipped, can...even so...fall just a little bit short. And the next day, we will see his name. Someone will say, "His luck ran out."
Of course, there's no such thing as luck. But Fate is still the hunter.
Last Wednesday night Paul Valois was killed when his Cessna 210 crashed while attempting to land at a small airfield in Texas. He was well known to those who frequent the Cessna Pilot's Association web forum. Our thoughts are with his family. We'll miss him.
Photo: Daily Herald
