As a wide-eyed youth I sundered up to a circle where the old guys were flying. It was a balmy beautiful summer Sunday morning. Beautiful airplanes all in a row the smell of Castor in the air. A slight breeze blew in from the west. Whittier Narrows was cool in the morning and warmed up in the afternoon.
As a kid living close to Whittier we rode our bikes there. It was a long ride but worth every bit of the trip. My friend and I were outsider’s we were just kids. We had watched a Father and son team flying; I had always wished it were my dad and I. It was Ralph DePalma and son. They were flying a Monochromatic Blue Nobler and a derivative of a Skylark, Could have been Cougars. My memory fades as it was forty years plus ago. Man could that kid fly.
Upon returning home I told my Dad about the adventure. To my surprise he said he use to do this hobby. It had been 6 months sense going to Whittier. After many attempts to construct a Gallows kit (which was not suited for CL. Anyway) my dad got me a T6 Wen Mac Trainer for the next Christmas. After opening the box and jumping with Joy. My uncle Jerry my Dad and I went to Orange wood grade school to try and fly it. Both of them got a turn at the stick and had crashed both times. It still was in good enough shape to fly a 3rd time. Some quick instructions and a lesson on how to hold my hand it was my turn. They both were too dizzy to help me but I knew I could do it. I don’t recall how many laps I made but I did a few and was stuck ever sense.
After Allen Shepard was shot into space the race was on. I had models of x-15s, Spitfires and P-40tys. I was stuck with the model bug.
By that time the summer of 69 came and went many trips to Whittier Narrows. Bugging the guys on how this was done. Hey Mister how did you do that? Why did you do that and a host of other questions that probably made no sense to anyone but me. I was a pest. I was put on detention for sanding a Cowl in homeroom in High School. I did not’t care anyway.
Many Trips to ED’S Covina Hobby on bikes (that was a big ride) I would spend all my money I made Painting house numbers on curbs. Then spend hours sanding.
The stories of encouragement.
While still in High school I was living in my bedroom doubling as my shop. Whip the sheets and dust would fly. I had run out of room,too many planes. My parents decided it was better for me as a teenager to build and fly than to smoke pot. So they moved out of their bedroom and let me move into the master bedroom so my shop was bigger.That lasted less than a year. I had out grown the room already. We had a two car garage that really looked good. So my dad cleaned it out and we built some benches. All the model stuff went outside to the garage. It was great. At the time MY mom and dad belonged to the Elks Lodge and would stay out till 2 am. No big deal to me. I was at home building. They always knew where to find me. I had gotten the neighborhood kids involved in building too. So at any given time there would be 2 to 5 guys and some girls sanding. My mom could not figure it out. I personally think it was the smell of the Dope. (If you get to meet my dad ask him about the guy living in the bushes)
The bush story
Frank Proser had run away from home to come and build airplanes. I didn't want him staying tin the garage but I could not turn a friend away. We had a large over growth around our garage so we cut a cave in the bushes. Cinder blocks on the ground and a 4X8 Sheet of Plywood. Instant house. The vent of the garage served as a way to run an extension cord out side. We had gotten him a mattress and TV he was good to go. My mom would ask why is that kid always here? I would say he loves building. The phone rang and the neighbor from across the street said to my dad he saw flickering in the bushes. My dad thinking it was a fire went to investigate. Peeking into the bushes he saw Frank watching TV. He asked whats going on? Frank said I live here. My dad came into the house and said to my mother that we have Squatters living in the front yard. Funny to this day. Fact is better than fiction. Just ask him. LOK
These are a few of my memories of my youth. I will add more as time allows. Lets hear yours?