Weekend at the Beach

This past weekend, I "finally" got down to the New Jersey shore - A trip had been planned for the Thanksgiving Day weekend, but due to my Dad's illness, it was postponed - and delayed - and postponed again.

It was cold and windy down there - but the sunshine and the sight of the "winter beach" was a restorative for me. I didn't have to do anything on my folk's house - so I was free to roam, think, and read.

I started reading a huge (700 page plus) book on the ins and outs of the "forgotten war," that is, Korea.

To clear my head of all the things filling it of late - I strolled down to the beach and watched some little kids fly a kite and throw balls to dogs that were delighted to run free in the clean white sand.

In the town park, the "clam" has been painted with "Old Barnegat Lighthouse". "Super Storm Sandy" (I hate the ridiculous names "they" give to storms) was rough on the park - and the homes and businesses nearby. The park was home to a tree that memorialized a local boy - the tree was killed by the salty storm waters. I hope "they" plant another tree and soon.

Returning to the beach, I thought about that tree - and the boy it memorialized. Ensign Arthur Joseph Platt Jr. was my age. Born a few months before me, to the people that lived next door - down the shore. As such, I grew up with him during the summer months. He was a short, sturdy guy with laser like focus on his dream to fly.

He was the only son of A. J. and Marylou Platt. His two older sisters were beauty pageant winners - his younger sister was a charming little girl. His parents came from Philadelphia, and ran both a motel and a bike rental/Ice cream parlor. Mrs. Platt was one of the nicest, hardest working person I knew. She always a kind word, a happy greeting, and a smile for me each morning when she walked past our house from the ice cream store to the motel carrying clean sheets for the day's change-overs.

A.J., as the older Mr. Platt was known, worked long hours during the summer season, renting and repairing bikes along side with selling ice cream cones and sundaes. I owned several bikes that came from his store. A.J. was very proud of his son, the Naval Aviator. He beamed with delight if someone mentioned him or asked how he was doing.

Young "Artie," as he was called, joined the navy in 1978, the year he graduated from high school. He was soon flying jets in Pensacola, Florida (the home of the Blue Angels).

One day, in 1984, young Arthur Joseph Platt was involved in an accident while flying and killed. His death was so unexpected and sudden, it was as if a candle had been puffed out.

I think young Artie's death killed his father - it took several years - but the old man was never the same afterwards. He slid into a quiet kind of grieving despondency. He no longer cared about dishing up ice cream, or his appearance, and the bike place slowly dwindled - from a place with hundreds of bikes to a mere handful.

And so it was - I decided to pay my respects to the A.J.'s buried in the nearby "Holy Innocents' Garden of Memories". Artie was buried about 100 feet from the motel his mother spent so much time at - with his father buried next to him.

As a further heartbreak to a hard working, close-knit family, the youngest girl, who went to Washington College in Chestertown, died not long after her father from a freaky accident. She fell from a ladder while working on her home and hit her head. She never woke up.

As I thought about the hard times a family endures - and the unfairness of it all - I thought about the damage the storm had brought to the shore - if it were uncaring and randomly capricious; but... life goes on. Mrs. Platt - goes on - she works in Pensacola at the National Naval Air Museum there - a living testimony to her son.

One the beauty pageant winners - still runs the bike rental shop - and the business suffered from the storm as the sea water destroyed much of the "stored for the winter" bikes and other rental goods. But they too - simply cleaned up the mess and go on.

Someday, I should tell them all how much I admired them as a young boy - and how much I admire them today.

Want to go on a Biplane ride?

This past weekend, my younger brother, dad and I went to see the airshow at the Golden Age Air Museum. The weather was a bit cloudy and cool at first, but by the end of the show - the sun had popped out.  We had a good time, and as always, we stood in awe at the marvelous 80-90 year old planes being expertly flown for us.

 I just like the paint job on this green and white 1930 Great Lakes "Sport Trainer."  It put on quite a show.

 The star of the arcobatics show was this yellow Bücker Jungmeister (U-55).  It did crazy stunts like the one in the video below - if you have a weak stomach, be prepared for it to lurch!




After watching this particular move, my dad turned to me and asked, "Want to go on a Biplane ride?"
"Umm," I replied, "no... I don't think so."

The Great Annual Chilifest Fly-in!

Last Saturday my dad and I went to the Massey Air Museum even if the weather was overcast and cool.


Beautiful paint jobs abounded... They had over 90 planes arrive! And 150 cars, including mine!


As well as the statements of the obvious! This photograph was taken of the instrument panel of a $160,000 Russian-made YAK 50 war bird, out of production since 1985, so there is absolutely no room for error!


My dad and I looked at this one and both said at once, "Broccoli!"


Yep, right there on it's teeth.


I think this paint job was my favorite. Look at it gleam!


This odd plane caught both my dad's and my eye. It was hand-built from wood. Awesome interior - it would put most cabinet makers to shame. It was called a "Supercat".


It had quite a standout cockpit. When I got closer, I was delighted to hear this plane's sparkling personality.


"Hello, let me introduce myself, I'm a Supercat and if you have a few minutes I will tell you my story. If I can be honest with you right now I'm a little jealous, because my owner is off somewhere looking at other planes. He is probably looking for a Vagabond because he is building a Wagabond or a Vagabond or some kind of tramp."

I hope you will read on, it's attitude is infectious! :)


Another eye-popping paint job! I saw a young man about 17-18 years old climb into it and take off - he was most careful and concientious. Just as he rose and cleared the runway, he zoomed straight up and did a couple acrobatic rolls. I was amazed, it was so unexpected!


The Pride of Massey Areodrome. A Stearman Model 75 built in 1934.


This little guy was the fly-in mascot. He roamed the field and got to take several flights! (Lucky dog!)

There were plenty of hotdogs and chili (over 40 pots - each brought in by different people) and all the ones I sampled were yummy!

How History Links Things

I've really been struggling with keeping up with other's blogs and feel uncomfortable about posting an entry of my own when I am behind with yours. I have also gotten a bad case of writer's block lately, so between the too, this entry has been long in coming.

About a week ago, I attended an airplane show in Marathon, Florida (in the Keys) and was interested in climbing aboard an old DC-3 which I had noticed at the airport a couple years ago.

From Wikipedia, we lift the following:

"The Douglas DC-3 is an American fixed-wing propeller-driven airliner, the speed and range of which revolutionized air transport in the 1930s and 1940s. Its lasting impact on the airline industry and World War II makes it one of the most significant transport aircraft ever made."

My personal memories of the DC-3 include flying one over the mountains in Taiwan (also known as Formosa or the Republic of China) as a wide-eyed 10 year old looking down on lush, green covered mountains on a China Air Lines flight. The plane I flew on had served flying supplies over "the hump" (the Burma Road) to the Flying Tigers in the early days of WWII.

Later, I was to take one of the last commercial flights into Marathon, Florida on a DC-3 (sometime in 1980s). I remember mostly the sharply inclined floor to my perch like seat, the loud noise generated by the two large radial engines and propellors and a landing into a near hurricane gale that I would be happy to never repeat.

At the air show was a typical much-storied DC-3.


This particular DC-3 was completed on March 11, 1942 and used by the US Navy for training and transport at various US Navy bases.

In the spring of 1947 Continental Airlines bought the plane for $25,000. Continental Airlines flew it's new acquisition to Stapleton Field in Denver, Colorado, where the main cabin was converted (Douglas provided modification plans for conversion of many of these ex-military planes) for use as a commercial airliner.

Southern Airways purchased the aircraft in 1949 for it's southeastern United States and Central American routes. The aging DC-3A flew passengers until 1966 when it was sold to National Aircraft Sales of Dallas, Texas. Coffield, a Texas businessman, used the aircraft primarily for transportation of personnel and equipment to oil fields and other business locations.

Source


While in Coffields possession, the plane was used in Preston Smith's successful campaign for Governor of Texas and also to transport Princess Grace of Monaco to a social event at Coffield's ranch.

While I "inspected" the inside of the airplane, I noticed this sign on one of the carefully protected seats.

"A part of history

This aircraft was once owned by Texas oil millionaire, H. H. Coffield. In the 1960s, movie actress Grace Kelly who later became Princess Grace of Monaco, was invited to the Coffield ranch of a social gathering.

This airplace was used to transport her to the event."

After Coffield's death in 1983, the plane was transferred to Tradewinds Aircraft Sales, and from there changed hands a few times before ending up in Marathon, Florida as part of a personal collection in 2009.

In the cabin of this 88 year old airplane, I mused on coincidences and how this airplane has a link to my hometown.

Princess Grace of Monaco was born Grace Patricia Kelly on November 12, 1929, to John Brendan Kelly and Margaret Majer Kelly in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Her father was a rich contractor and an Olympic gold medal winner for sculling and her mother an equally athletic and attractive woman. Grace grew up in an Irish-Catholic family in Philadelphia with her three siblings Margaret, Elizabeth, and John (Kelly Drive in Philadelphia is named after this John, who grew up to be a Philadelphian councilman).

I've written about Fairmont Park in Philadelphia - where you can see sculling take place today, along Kelly Drive, focusing on the Cherry trees (here and here)

After her graduation from American Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York, Grace moved to Hollywood, California, where she landed her first major movie role in the 1952 picture "High Noon", in which she played the young bride of a sheriff played by Gary Copper.

Grace starred in a few of Hitchcocks films, including "Dial M for Murder" (1954), "Rear Window" (1954), and "To Catch a Thief" (1955). Co-starring with some of the biggest names in Hollywood and starring in major films now reserved Grace a place as one of Hollywoods icons of the 1950s.

1954 was a busy year for Grace. Besides starring in "Dial M for Murder" and "Rear Window", she filmed "Country Girl", for which she won an Oscar for Best Actress. 1954 also brought about the films "Green Fire" and "The Bridges of Toko-ri".

Although she had only been in the film industry for four or five years, Grace was a huge sensation. Beautiful, popular, and elegant, Grace had already been linked to the actors, designers, and celebrities Clark Gable, Ray Milland, William Holden, Oleg Cassini, Jean-Pierre Aumont and Bing Crosby.

Source

Grace headed the US delegation at the Cannes Film Festival in April 1955. While there, she was invited to participate in a photo session at the Palace of Monaco with Prince Rainier III, the sovereign of the principality. After a series of delays and complications, Grace met the prince in Monaco.

After her marriage to Prince Rainier III of Monaco on April 18/19, 1956, she become Her Serene Highness Princess Grace of Monaco. After the wedding, Prince Rainier banned the screening of Kelly's films and she gave up her acting career, having made 11 films.

She and Prince Rainier went on to have three children - Caroline, Albert, and Stephanie.

Princess Grace was killed in a car crash on September 14, 1982 after her car went off a road over a cliff in Monaco at the age of 52.

Life Goes On...

Yesterday, my dad called me "bright and early" (which is way too early) in the morning, and long before I normally wake up, so I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and groggily groaned a hello saying, "(lots of throat clearing) urmm... huh? yeahm?"

He blurts out without any introduction, "I called the guy, he can go today, want to come with me?"

I squeeze my eyes close and moan before replying, "What guy?"

"The Airplane Guy," is his not so-illuminating reply.

Slowly my brain shifts out of neutral as some blood starts to pump into the attic, and I become aware of my surroundings... Hmmm.. sometime during the night I traded ends on the sofa - no wonder I was so disoriented.

The Airplane Guy - Oh yeah... you see, way back in November of last year, the family got together and arranged for a "test drive" of an airplane he would like to buy and fly, but won't, as a Christmas gift. Now that's what you give a guy that has everything!

It's a lightweight sports model - apparently you only need a driver's license and a couple hours of training to fly one. The airplanes in this category are limited in size, how much they can carry, and how fast they can go.

So anyway, he's been waiting since Christmas for the day he got his ride - and yesterday was the big day.

So after I got out of sofa and showered, I called my Dad back and said, "I'm awake now, and yes, I'll come watch you take your flight. Are you sure the weather is okay?" My dad replies, "I didn't ask."

So I ended up calling "The Airplane Guy" (he has a real name - really!) and he said, "Hmmm.. the forecast looks good - why don't you come to the field this afternoon - say one o'clock?"


My dad and I pulled into the gate at the airfield at 1:00 PM sharp (I like being punctual) and at 1:01 PM sharp - it started to rain - and not just a light rain, a cats and dogs downpour.


So we decided to wait a little bit and see if the storm would blow off - and while we waited, we got a free tour of several nearby hangers and looked at (but did not touch) a bunch of shiny airplanes.

Eventually, the skies cleared - [begin sarcasm font]I was so glad I called[end sarcasm font].


...and my Dad folded himself up and into the seat...


...and off he went with "The Airplane Guy". They took off and flew right over my head before disappearing out of sight for nearly an hour.


...at long last they returned - and my dad's grin was from ear to ear.


So life goes on -

- and now I will find some time to write some "Thank You" notes - to mail to some incredibly thoughtful people. I look at these sympathy cards I received and then look at that picture of my dad with his thumbs up and that huge smile...

...and I know things are going to be okay.