In fact, it could be said that he is, in many ways, responsible for flying as we know it. Yet it was the U.S. air raid of Tokyo on April 18, 1942, that would put James “Jimmy” Doolittle in the history books.

Doolittle began his military service in 1917 when he enlisted as a Signal Corps Reserve flying cadet. He received his Reserve Military Aviator rating from the U.S. Army in 1918 and would spend the remainder of World War I as a flight instructor in the States.

Doolittle must have made an impression as an incredible pilot even then. As WWI ended, he was recommended by three fellow officers for retention in the U.S. Army Air Forces. The native of Alameda, California, who spent much of his youth in Nome, Alaska, before returning to the Los Angeles area, would become one of the most prolific flyers of the interwar period, always in the service of the Army.

In 1922, Doolittle became the first pilot to fly across the country—from Jacksonville Beach, Florida, to Rockwell Field in San Diego. This led to earning his first Distinguished Flying Cross award.

Doolittle was a man who valued education. In 1925, he became one of the first to earn a doctoral degree in aeronautical engineering from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, putting it to use serving at McCook Field in Dayton, Ohio, where he worked on aircraft acceleration tests. He soon set a speed record for seaplanes, flying an average of 232 mph.

In 1928, Doolittle would find himself based at Mitchel Field in Long Island, New York. It was there that he assisted in the development of the artificial horizon as well as the directional gyroscope. He would make his first flight solely by instruments in 1928. Doolittle resigned his regular commission in the Army in 1930 but remained in the Reserve Corps.

By 1940 he found himself back on active duty. World War II had started in Europe, and it seemed inevitable that the U.S. would become involved. Doolittle would spend time in Europe gaining information on other countries’ air forces, and he brought that knowledge back to America. He also advised large automobile manufacturers on how to convert their plants to produce airplanes in the war effort.

When the U.S. entered WWII in 1941 after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Doolittle volunteered and was approved to lead the first aerial raid on Japan. It was something unheard of to fly bombers off of aircraft carriers. Yet after months of careful preparation, he and 79 others—known as the Doolittle Raiders—did just that. The raid itself didn’t do much damage to Tokyo, but the boost to the American morale was significant. Doolittle received the Medal of Honor, two Distinguished Flying Crosses, a Bronze Star, and four Air Medals.

Doolittle would remain in the Army Air Corps for the remainder of WWII. He spent time in command of forces in both North Africa and the Mediterranean. He reverted to inactive reserve status in 1946 and fully retired from Air Force duty in 1959. Yet he continued to serve his country as the chairman of the board of Space Technology Laboratories. For his remarkable service career, Doolittle became the first four-star general in Air Force Reserve history.

Doolittle died at the age of 96 in 1993 in Pebble Beach, California. In a fitting tribute, a lone B-25 performed the flyover at his funeral at Arlington National Cemetery. He is widely regarded as one of the greatest aviators in history. He has been portrayed in many movies and television specials, and was inducted into both the National Aviation Hall of Fame and International Air & Space Hall of Fame.

But it could be the citation on his Medal of Honor that sums up the aviation hero and pioneer: “For conspicuous leadership above the call of duty, involving personal valor and intrepidity at an extreme hazard to life.” 

• READ MORE: This Incredible Pilot: Charles Carpenter

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared in the Nov/Dec 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot magazine. 

The post This Incredible Pilot: Jimmy Doolittle appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

As you look out the terminal window at jet-powered rides, note the elegant profile, swept wings, and sleek tail surfaces of the aircraft on the ramp. Settling into your seat, examine the tightly cowled engine pods, multiple ailerons and spoilers, and smooth upper surface of the wing.

Have you ever wondered when all these elegant design features made their debut? The answer is December 17, 1947. On the 47th anniversary of the Wright Brothers’ first powered flight—and the 15th anniversary of the Douglas DC-3’s initial jaunt—a radical prototype, the XB-47 Stratojet, took to the air for its first flight. Aviation has never been the same.

However, the story really kicks off in 1943. As it began deploying fleets of B-17 and B-24 bombers to bases all over England, the Army Air Corps looked in its crystal ball and saw that the U.S. was woefully behind in the development of jet airplanes. Soon, four legendary aircraft companies were awarded contracts to develop four- and six-engine medium jet bombers. Three of these designs retained a conventional straight wing with engines embedded in the wing.

However, after the war in Europe ended in 1945, Boeing engineer George Schairer traveled overseas to learn of the advanced aerodynamics research done by German engineers and scientists. He immediately called home to Seattle and told the Boeing design team to brace for some major changes.

• READ MORE: Tex Johnston: The Pilot that Rolled a Boeing 707

The XB-47 Stratojet that emerged featured 35-degree swept wings mounted at shoulder height on the fuselage. The six General Electric J47 engines were mounted in pods slung below the wing to ease engine access and keep the wing surface clean. The inboards were mounted in pairs of two and the outboards singly. The tail surfaces were swept, and when combined with the ultra-smooth fuselage, the XB-47 looked like it came right out of a science fiction novel.

Because of the requirement for a large bomb bay, the landing gear consisted of twin tandem bicycle-gear trucks mounted fore and aft on the fuselage and two outriggers located in the inboard engine pods. The two pilots sat above the fuselage in a fighter-style bubble canopy, and the navigator/observer sat in the partially glazed nose. Defensive armament consisted of just two radar-aimed cannons, operated by the copilot and located in the tail.

Why only two guns in the tail? When the B-47 made its debut, it could fly higher and faster than any fighters of the day.

However, it was the first large swept-wing aircraft. Following the dictum that “experience is a hard teacher as it often gives the test before the lesson,” the B-47 was developed carefully. The prototype suffered from a serious case of Dutch roll, a motion caused by a yaw condition inherent in swept-wing aircraft. The incorporation of a yaw damper, now commonplace, solved the problem. The prototype also pitched up at high speed, triggered by the stalling of the outer wing section. This was solved by adding vortex generators, now ubiquitous on modern jet aircraft.

By early 1949, it was time to let the world know what the Boeing engineers had created. The XB-47 flew from Moses Lake, Washington, to Washington, D.C., at an average speed of 606 mph, covering 2,289 miles in 3 hours and 46 minutes. This flight spelled the end for the competing designs, and eventually more than 2,000 B-47 Stratojets were built in various configurations, a production number now considered unheard of for a jet bomber.

• READ MORE: Try These Low-Cost DIY Hangar Projects

But the B-47 was not without its problems. Pilots who had grown up on piston-powered World War II aircraft had to adapt to this new jet, which demanded to be flown exactly by the numbers. With a moment’s inattention, the sleek B-47 could easily accelerate beyond its maximum design speed with disastrous results. At 40,000 feet, the aircraft introduced its pilots to the concept of coffin corner, where the gap between stall speed and maximum Mach number is quite small. Slow down and enter a stall; speed up and risk Mach tuck as the nose may pitch down uncontrollably.

The B-47’s flexible wing, great for high-speed flight, introduced the concept of aileron reversal. At 450 knots at low altitude, the ailerons, located at the wing tips, acted like trim tabs and simply twisted the thin wing without turning the airplane. The only way to restore control was to slow down. Next time you look out at the wing of a modern airliner, note that ailerons are placed both at the tip for low-speed flight and at the wing root for high-speed flight.

You can thank the lessons learned from the B-47 for that innovation. However, they came at a high cost: Approximately 10 percent of the B-47 fleet—203 aircraft and, sadly, 464 flight crewmembers—were lost to accidents. All completely unacceptable today, but at the time, it was the price of progress into the jet age.

If the B-47 is the mother jet, who are its famous children? The legendary Boeing B-52, which may fly for nearly 100 years, was the first to benefit. But the real winner was the Boeing 367-80, or known simply as the “Dash 80.” Boeing bet the company on developing the world’s first successful jet airliner, and the Dash 80 begat the 707, which begat the 747, which begat the 787. They all sported the same 35-degree swept wings, pod-mounted engines, and swept tail feathers as the B-47. Oh, yes, and a yaw damper, vortex generators, and various other innovations learned from the Stratojet.

So, as you take your seat for the next airline trip, look around you. Note the basic configuration of your Boeing or Airbus. It is little changed from the original Boeing 707 and the Dash 80, and you can thank Schairer, the groundbreaking engineers and skilled aircrews, and the incredible Boeing B-47 Stratojet for that. 

• READ MORE: Boeing Max and the Case of the Missing Bolts

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared in the Nov/Dec 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot magazine. 

The post This Incredible Plane: Boeing B-47 Stratojet appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

In 1939, Franklin Roosevelt was the first sitting president to recognize GA, according to AOPA president Mark Baker. This year also marks the 85th anniversary of AOPA, an organization created to support GA.

The National Celebration of GA Flyover will be broadcast live on AOPA’s YouTube channel.

with commentary from longtime “AOPA Live This Week” host Tom Haines and journalist Miles O’Brien. The pair will be on a rooftop providing commentary as aircraft fly overhead.

Haines noted that he’s spent a good bit of time researching the participant airplanes and was impressed to learn of their rich history.

Logistics

Mike Ginter, AOPA vice president of airports and state advocacy, will serve as the air boss for the event. Ginter said that all the aircraft will be strategically launched from Frederick Municipal Airport (KFDK) in Maryland—the home of AOPA—beginning at 11:30 a.m. EST on May 11.

The aircraft will be expected to fly at 90 knots at an altitude of 1,000 feet, ensuring they are visible from the ground and online.

“The goal is to get aviation outside of the airport fence lines,” Ginter said.

For those who won’t be in D.C., pilots are encouraged to organize watch parties at their airports.

Sixty aircraft, representing 20 different chapters of GA, are scheduled to participate. The aircraft and pilots, most of whom are the aircraft owners, were selected months ago.

Baker will be leading the parade, flying his Beechcraft Staggerwing 17, an aircraft synonymous with the golden age of aviation. The round-engine Staggerwing biplane was one of the first to feature an enclosed cockpit. In the 1930s, it was the choice for executive transport and air racers.

“It’s going to be a special time for AOPA and for general aviation,” Baker said. “What a sight it will be to see the history of general aviation flying over the National Mall, as GA has given this nation so much over the past many decades. AOPA is uniquely positioned to plan this complex event and execute it safely and professionally.”

Among the aircraft planned to appear are a WACO UPF-7, Douglas DC-3, a Grumman Albatross, one of the only two Beechcraft Starships still flying, a Robinson R44, and a Piper M700 Fury certified this year.

The flyover will also feature an appearance by the Titan Aerobatic Team.

Parade Route

Washington has some of the most restricted airspace in the country. More than 11 agencies, including the FAA, air traffic control, TSA, and U.S. Secret Service are coordinating for the event, which will include flight in Prohibited Area P-56. The restricted airspace was created after 9/11.

The route takes the aircraft past the Lincoln Memorial, down Independence Avenue, and past the Washington Monument.

GA, By the Numbers

Parade aircraft were selected to showcase technological advancements in aviation and demonstrate the ways GA has improved its safety records over the years.

According to AOPA, the GA industry enjoys the safest record ever due to better aircraft, navigation systems, flight training, and better, more engaging ways to stay proficient. General aviation aircraft fly more than 26 million flight hours each year, including about 30 million takeoffs and landings.

AOPA officials said they hope the event will help spread the word that general aviation often comes from small towns with small aircraft manufacturing facilities, such as Yakima, Washington; Vacaville, California; and Vero Beach, Florida.

More information on the event, route, and planned aircraft can be found on AOPA’s GA Flyover campaign website.

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared on flyingmag.com.

The post 85 Years of GA to be Celebrated with ‘Parade of Airplanes’ over Washington appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

It’s not that we can’t fly during the short, colder days. It’s just not worth the bother in the frozen states. Bundling up for the trek to the hangar, arranging for some engine heat, wondering if the battery is up to the start, chipping leftover snowplow detritus from the rollout path—naw, too much trouble, wait for a better day.

Floridians, meanwhile, fire up in their shirtsleeves and fly right on through winter. It was 50 years ago that folks in some enterprising EAA chapters thought up the idea of inviting their pale, pasty northern friends down to the lake country in Florida for an end-of-winter get-together. Quickly dubbed  Sun’n Fun, the fly-in/airshow took off like, well, spring break with airplanes. This year’s event runs Tuesday, April 9, through Sunday, April 14.

The site at Lakeland Linder International Airport (KLAL) couldn’t be a better choice. Nicely situated between the airspaces of the tourist mecca of Orlando and the Gulf Coast’s Tampa-St. Petersburg area, the venerable World War II facility, then called Drane Field, has adequate space and easy highway access from Interstate Highway 4’s corridor. 

Sport and experimental aircraft devotees flock in to mingle with all classes of flight, from balloons to ultralights, antiques to vintage, aerobatic to warbirds, and rotorcraft to seaplanes—you can find it all at Sun ’n Fun.

As with the midsummer extravaganza, EAA AirVenture, in Wisconsin, vendors soon latched on to the Sun ’n Fun explosion, and it became a showplace for products unveiled after winter gestation, with display hangars and booths galore. It’s a great place to shop for the latest innovations, or perhaps a fly-market find.

Daily (and sometimes nightly) airshows, constant flybys, lots of food choices, an on-field museum of flight, and educational seminars keep attendees entertained.

Getting in requires perusal of the 27-page NOTAM, available on the event website, which outlines the Lake Parker arrival procedure, which has been modified this year with a entry point on I-4 at Kermit Weeks’ Fantasy of Flight Museum complex (or even earlier), where one begins the 100-knot, 1,200-foot msl trek, heading southward to a racetrack turn point and westward to the north shore of the lake. From there, the interstate leads to another turn at two water towers prior to an interchange onto a 90-degree interception path to the downwind leg for either Runway 10L or 28R, depending on surface winds. 

Bear in mind that the 75-foot-wide arrival runway is normally used for a taxiway, and the paralleling main runway is reserved for other activity. As at Oshkosh, colored dots painted on the temporary runway are used as aiming points for separation. There’s also the Paradise City grass runway, well south of normal traffic, and Choppertown for the helicopters.

Walking around the grounds guarantees plenty of exercise, although the semicircular flight-line shape appears deceptively short compared to a straight-line layout. There’s abundant shade under the Spanish-moss-laden live oaks, under which northerners are advised to seek shelter from the unaccustomed sun. I routinely return from Sun ’n Fun with peeling skin, even with ample protection.

The post Aviation’s Spring Break: It’s Sun ’n Fun to the Rescue appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Dating back to the 1929 Women’s Air Derby, famously known as the Powder Puff Derby, this year’s ARC pays homage to the pioneering spirit of aviation legends like Amelia Earhart. The race is the oldest of its kind, a testament to the enduring legacy of women’s air racing in the United States.

• READ MORE: Amelia Earhart’s Enduring Legacy

Air Race Classic president Donna Harris expressed enthusiasm for the upcoming event.

“The ARC Board of Directors and volunteers have been hard at work preparing for our 47th race,” Harris said. “We look forward to celebrating the 95th anniversary of the Women’s Air Derby as we welcome back veteran racers and meet new competitors at our start in Carbondale, Illinois.”

The competition kicks off at Southern Illinois Airport (KMDH), with teams departing at 8 a.m. on June 18, each taking off approximately 60 seconds apart. The race spans intermediate airports in La Porte, Indiana (KPPO); Cadillac, Michigan (KCAD); Newark, Ohio (KVTA); Monee, Illinois (C56); Owatonna, Minnesota (KOWA); Moberly, Missouri (KMBY); Bartlesville, Oklahoma (KBVO); and Dodge City, Kansas (KDDC), allowing for high-speed flybys and strategic pit stops.

One of the unique aspects of the ARC is that teams consist of at least two female pilots flying normally aspirated, piston-powered airplanes in visual meteorological conditions during daylight hours. Pilots must hold at least a private pilot certificate and a minimum of 100 hours as pilot-in-command, with one team member having at least 500 hours as pilot-in-command or a current instrument rating. Additional female teammates may join with a student pilot certificate.

What sets the ARC apart is the handicap system, ensuring a level playing field where teams race against their own best times rather than each other. Strategies revolve around navigating weather conditions and wind patterns to beat their own handicap by the greatest margin.

Official standings will only be determined after the last team crosses the finish line at the terminus in Loveland, Colorado, with the last arrival potentially claiming victory. As airplanes take to the skies, the 47th Air Race Classic promises to showcase the indomitable spirit and skill of women pilots, celebrating a rich history while forging new milestones in aviation.

The post The 47th Air Race Classic: Route Announced appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Set to open in spring 2025, the “Boeing Milestones of Flight Hall” and “Barron Hilton Pioneers of Flight” galleries will join the Lockheed Martin IMAX Theater and the museum’s entrance on Jefferson Drive, marking a significant milestone in the museum’s multi-year renovation project. Additional galleries are expected to open in phases, with most of the remaining spaces set to welcome visitors by the museum’s 50th anniversary in July 2026.

• READ MORE: Applications Open for Summer Internships at National Air and Space Museum

The museum’s east end, now prepared for exhibition installation, will showcase over 1,600 artifacts, including items that have undergone conservation and restoration. The upcoming exhibitions cover a diverse range, from “At Home in Space” and “Futures in Space” to “World War I: The Birth of Military Aviation.” The museum’s commitment to sharing aviation history is evident in its dedication to providing a comprehensive narrative of the past, present, and future of flight.

The renovation encompasses a complete redesign of all 20 exhibition spaces, an exterior cladding face-lift, and the replacement of outdated mechanical systems. The completion of the stone replacement on the building facade in December marked a significant project milestone, with around 12,000 exterior stones replaced.

The first half of the renovated National Air and Space Museum opened its doors in October 2022, featuring eight new or reimagined exhibitions, a planetarium, a museum store, and the Mars Café. 

Visitors to the museum, located at Sixth Street and Independence Avenue S.W. in Washington, can explore the rich history of aviation from 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. EST daily, except on December 25. Free timed-entry passes are required for admission.

The museum’s renovation progress and additional information can be found on the official website, reflecting the institution’s commitment to transparency and engaging the public in its exciting journey toward a renewed and enriched visitor experience.

The post Gallery Timeline Revealed for Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

The Amelia Earhart Birthplace Museum and the Amelia Earhart Hangar Museum, located in her birthplace of Atchison, Kansas, both work diligently to preserve her legacy. The birthplace museum, owned and operated by the Ninety-Nines—an organization Earhart served as its first president—steeps visitors in the early years of her development and emergence of her adventurous spirit years before she stepped into a cockpit. The hangar museum at Amelia Earhart Airport (K59) guides visitors on an immersive experience highlighting her personal history and the science behind her accomplishments.

• READ MORE: Second To Cross the Atlantic

Childhood Roots

“Throughout the grade school period, which was mostly spent in Atchison, I remember having a very good time. There were regular games and school and mud-ball fights, picnics, and exploring raids up and down the bluffs of the Missouri River. The few sandstone caves in that part of the country added so much to our fervor that exploring became a rage.”

— Earhart from her book, The Fun of It

To see how young Earhart’s imagination took wing, one needs only visit her childhood bedroom and take a look out of the window. The house at 223 North Terrace is a Gothic Revival perched atop the Missouri River’s stately bluffs. Young Amelia’s room is an aerie with an unimpeded view overlooking the “Big Muddy’s” valley and the blue line of bluffs miles away in neighboring Missouri.

The house was built by Earhart’s grandparents, Alfred and Amelia (Harres) Otis, in 1861, and she was born there 36 years later in the room that had been her mother, Amelia “Amy” (Otis) Earhart’s childhood bedroom. The youngest Amelia was a teen when her grandparents died, and the house passed through private owners before the Ninety-Nines bought the property with the help of a private donor.

“We were fortunate enough that Amelia’s younger sister, Muriel, was alive when the house became a museum in the 1980s,” said assistant director Mika Schrader. Muriel was able to give advice from memory about the arrangement and decor of the house as it was during the girls’ childhood.

The various rooms contain artifacts of Earhart’s life. Some are dedicated to particular aspects of her story—such as Muriel’s upstairs bedroom, which is filled with references to the various theories surrounding the aviator’s disappearance. These range from plausible theories, like running out of fuel and crashing in the Pacific Ocean, to more ludicrous ones, such as Amelia reappearing as someone with another name.

In one of the downstairs parlors, there’s a framed handprint of the aviator. Her fingers were long and slender, logical for a woman who stood 5 feet, 8 inches. Upstairs sits a pair of Amelia’s shoes—size 9 and also narrow.

Grandfather Otis’ downstairs study is filled with artifacts of Amelia’s marriage to George Putnam. The formal dining room contains memorabilia and artifacts of the Ninety-Nines, including a photograph of Earhart with Ruth Nichols and Louise Thaden.

The museum is curated to appeal to all ages with guided and self-guided tour options available and group outings available by prior arrangement.

Grown-Up Wings

“‘I think I’d like to learn to fly,’ I told the family casually that evening, knowing full well I’d die if I didn’t.”

— Earhart from The Fun of It

The Amelia Earhart Hangar Museum, which celebrated its grand opening this spring, houses a Lockheed Electra 10E, the same model Earhart piloted in attempting her round-the-world flight. Only two of this model are known to exist currently: one at the Museum of Flight in Seattle, and the hangar museum’s model, named Muriel, that serves as the centerpiece of the surrounding exhibits.

An AI-enhanced projection of Earhart, built from footage of an actor portraying her, greets visitors in the lobby. The projection speaks in first person about the aviator’s life and invites guests to explore the nearby exhibits.

There’s a loosely suggested clockwise circuit around Muriel, which guides viewers through a chronological exploration of Earhart’s history, beginning with some of the poignant and funny events of her childhood—like building a makeshift roller coaster from the roof of her family’s home after visiting the World’s Fair in St. Louis in 1904 and being impressed by the real thing.

In addition to Earhart’s career, interactive exhibits provide a detailed look at aerodynamics and the inner workings of the Pratt & Whitney Wasp 9-cylinder radial engines of her aircraft. Other displays highlight personal connections and how they influenced her career. An upstairs space is devoted to navigational methods and features an overhead star map and sextant that visitors can learn to operate. While the exhibits are designed to be accessible to youngsters, they are also appealing to adults.

The museum at 16701 286th Road and less than a 10-minute drive from the birthplace museum is housed in the same building as the airport FBO, with large windows allowing pilots to get a first peek inside from the lobby after arriving by air.

The FBO is spacious and inviting, with several tie-down spots just outside. There is a courtesy car available at the airport, and operations manager Angela Cairo suggests calling ahead to inquire about its availability at 913-426-5757.

Enduring Mystery and Achievements

Whether the mystery surrounding Earhart’s disappearance in 1937 and ongoing research efforts piques your interest, you are curious about the role of women in aviation, or you would just like to learn more about pioneering aviators of the early 20th century, a trip to Atchison might just be the ticket.

The Amelia Earhart Birthplace Museum and Amelia Earhart Hangar Museum represent two extraordinary attractions that offer immersive experiences to delve into the legendary aviator’s life and contributions. 

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared in the September 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot magazine. 

Editor’s note: Joseph Brentano of the Amelia Earhart Hangar Museum wrote in with the following clarification after this story went to print: 

“We do have the world’s only remaining Lockheed Electra 10-E

The Museum of Flight in Seattle has a model A that was modified to be a model E. They are not very forthcoming on that, but if you read down a bit farther on their webpage, they acknowledge that it was an A modified to an E. See link here: Lockheed Model 10-E Electra | The Museum of Flight“

The post Amelia Earhart’s Enduring Legacy appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

Post’s beginnings were humble. He was born in 1898 to cotton farmers in northeast Texas. The family relocated to Oklahoma when he was 5. At 15, Post got his first look at an airplane, a Curtiss design. Although he had only completed seventh grade, and not as a particularly remarkable student, Post immediately enrolled in the Sweeney Automobile and Aviation School in Kansas City, Missouri.

Post completed the seven-month program, but aviation remained out of his reach. He returned to Oklahoma to work in construction—but he was determined to fly. In April 1917, the U.S. entered World War I. Post saw it as an opportunity and signed up for the U.S. Army in the hope of joining the Air Service. While Germany’s surrender in 1918 was a welcome end to a painful war for most, for Post it meant another roadblock to becoming a pilot, as he was out of the military before he had received his pilot certificates.

The next few years were rough for Post. He spent time working in the Oklahoma oil fields, but the job was sporadic, and he wound up turning to armed robbery, landing him in prison for more than a year. An accident in the oil fields in 1926 cost him the sight in his left eye. The settlement from the accident financed Post’s first airplane, a Curtiss JN-4 Canuck. The Canuck would eventually be damaged in an accident, but it had given Post his start. He was soon hired to fly for oil executive Florence C. Hall, who bought a Lockheed Vega for Post to fly—and he named it the Winnie Mae.

By 1930, Post was using the Vega for more than just transportation, winning the National Air Race Derby from Los Angeles to Chicago. In 1931, Post flew around the world in nine days alongside navigator Harold Gatty, and in 1933 Post matched his around-the-world flight, this time solo, and eclipsed his previous record, completing the flight in seven days, 18 hours, and 49 minutes.

But there was more to aviation for Post than speed. In 1934, he decided to set an altitude record. Because the Winnie Mae was not pressurized, he began experimenting with pressurized suits, and his design, while clunky, was ultimately successful. He used his pressurized suit to reach 40,000 feet in 1934, helping him to discover what we now know as the jet stream. His suit became the predecessor for astronaut suits in the ’50s and ’60s.

Post was killed at age 36 in a 1935 airplane accident alongside pilot and friend Will Rogers. As a tribute to the Oklahoman, Post lay in state in the capitol rotunda in Oklahoma City. Wiley Post Airport (KPWA) in Oklahoma City bears his name, and he was enshrined in the National Aviation Hall of Fame in 1969. All are fitting tributes to a man who wanted to touch the sky and was willing to do whatever it took to get there. 

Editor’s note: This story first appeared in the September, 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot magazine.

The post This Incredible Pilot: Wiley Post appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

There are many opportunities for applicants interested in experience in non-flight, aviation-related disciplines, from history research to communications and media. 

Some key details:

• Duration: 10 weeks, early June to early August
• Work format: Full-time, with on-site or hybrid options in the D.C. area
• Stipend: $7,000
• Application deadline: February 29

To qualify for an internship, applicants must be high school graduates enrolled in, or recently graduated from, a degree program at an accredited college or university. Strong academic records are expected, and international applications are welcome.

Some of the aviation-related internship projects include:

• Archival research: Military aviation
• Center for Earth and Planetary Studies: Distribution of geologic structures on Europa
• Center for Earth and Planetary Studies: Titan’s tectonic history
• Communications: Communications and social media
• Communications: Digital content and accessibility
• Education: Astronomy
• Education: S.H.E. Can STEAM Aviation Camp
• Education: Soar Together family programs
• Graphic design: Publications and marketing

For detailed project descriptions and application information, visit the museum’s website.

The post Applications Open for Summer Internships at National Air and Space Museum appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.

We need to take care of these aviation treasures—their kind will not be seen again. They were developed during America’s post-war boom by designers and marketers who gave pilots what they wanted at a price point within reach of a large percentage of the flying population. In their day, competition encouraged innovation, even while design compromises between performance, cost, and quality provided a variety of choices in the marketplace.

Because of these vast numbers of airplanes placed into service 50 or so years ago, we still have a relatively large pool of legacy equipment available. How long we can keep them flying is anyone’s guess, but the cost of maintaining, equipping, and flying these old birds is much higher than their original builders could ever have envisioned. And yet, they can do the job for a fraction of an equivalent airplane built today—if one even exists.

Attrition is inevitable since some of this elderly fleet disappears from the active register each year. Losses from accidents, neglect, impractical upkeep, and aging structures will eventually take their toll. To preserve what’s left, we must be ready to place increased resources into their preservation and encourage production of parts for overhauling and maintaining continuing airworthiness. And we must be ever more careful in how we operate and store them. This aging fleet is too precious to ignore.

Where Did They All Come From?

The answer is: It depends.

In 1960, a total of 7,588 general aviation aircraft were produced; in 1970, an anomalously similar number, 7,508, were built. An astounding 98,407 airplanes went out the door between those years. After another 10 years, the industry had added another 150,220 aircraft to the fleet. Then, the bubble burst in the ’80s, with only 30,908 airplanes built in that decade. The ’90s saw just 17,665 airplanes produced. The nearly 250,000 general aviation airplanes built in the ’60s and ’70s, therefore, were the origins of our still-existing legacy fleet.

During nearly 65 years of industry observation, I was fortunate to have been around at the birth of many of these legacy airplanes. I remember walking around one of the first Cessna 210s parked at our field in 1960, trying to figure out where the gear went. When a Piper dealer came by to show us a brand-new ’62 Cherokee, we could scarcely believe it was a sibling to our Tri-Pacers. And, compared to the twin Beechcraft Bonanzas on the field, I thought the ’60 Beech Queen Air was the most beautiful mini-airliner I had ever seen when I climbed aboard one of the first, not realizing that in four more years its sister ship would become the turboprop King Air.

A Cessna 336 Skymaster showed up at an airport opening I attended in 1964, attracting all sorts of attention since it was unlike any Cessna we had seen before. By then, Brand C had added the 185, 206, and 320 models, and the cabin-class 411 was coming. Piper’s new 1963 Twin Comanche struck us as cute, compared with the pudgy Apache and Aztec, while the Pawnee was our first look at a purpose-built ag plane. In the mid-’60s, new aircraft models were popping up everywhere. One of my friends bought a brand-new Citabria in 1964, which we thought was a vast improvement over the old Aeronca Champion.

As the years passed, I became associated with airplane dealerships, and then started covering a beat as an industry journalist. I saw Cessna’s abortive attempt to enter the helicopter business with the CH-1 Skyhook in the early ’60s, and later in 1967 we picked up one of the first Cessna Cardinals at the factory. In 1973, I attended Beech’s November sales meeting in Wichita, Kansas, featuring the introduction of the big Super King Air 200. About the same time, Cessna was dropping into our airport with the new Citation jet. Back in 1961, I had seen a mock-up of a civilian version of Cessna’s T-37 jet trainer, perhaps a response to Beech’s short partnership with the Morane-Saulnier Paris jet. The Citation 500’s fanjet engines made all the difference.

All through the ’70s and early ’80s, we news hounds were kept busy attending rollouts and first flights of new models. Airplane companies were in full production and eager to expand their market, trying out every novelty and adding improvements. Mooney stretched and muscled up its M20 series, Maule constantly reworked its Rocket models, Rockwell added more Commander types, and Grumman gave us “cats” of every size, Lynx to Cougar.

It All Started in the Late 1950s

In my earliest flying years at the end of the 1950s, Piper was producing only the Apache, Comanche, Tri-Pacer and Super Cub models. Cessna had the 310, 182, and 172, and was just adding the 175 and 150. Beech built the Model 18 Twin Beech, V-tail and twin Bonanzas, and a new Travel Air light twin. Mooney basically sold one model, as did Bellanca, and Aero Commander competed solely in the twin market. As the industry and I matured during the ’60s, dozens of new designs and variations appeared in the marketplace.

This era’s fertile incubator brought forth steady innovations. Piper adopted touches from the Comanche, such as the swept tailfin and stabilator pitch control, for its Aztec and Cherokee models introduced in the early ’60s. Cessna not only swept the tail on most models in 1960, it copied Detroit automotive marketing by introducing “deluxe” versions loaded with standard options—all-over paint instead of partially bare aluminum, gyros and radios in the panel, landing gear fairings, and showy interiors. Beech, on the other hand, expanded its line downward, first with a Debonair economy version of the Bonanza and later the entry-level Musketeer singles with (gasp!) fixed landing gear. The Baron was introduced in 1961 for buyers needing something smaller than the hulking twin Bonanza but more capable than the Travel Air.

The secret sauce enlivening this banquet of expansion in the ’60s and ’70s was the involvement of ownership and management dedicated to personal aviation. William T. Piper and his sons, Bill Jr., Thomas (“Tony”), and Howard (“Pug”), made the decisions at Piper Aircraft. Mrs. O.A. Beech and her nephew Frank Hedrick held the reins at Beech Aircraft. Dwane Wallace, Clyde Cessna’s nephew, would walk the factory floor at Cessna. Rather than being subject to a corporate board of bean counters and legal advisers, these leaders had grown their companies with a vision of what little airplanes could do and took risks based on the love of the game.

Amazing products resulted, not from committee decisions but because of a guiding hand at the top who was likely a pilot and aircraft enthusiast. At the industry press conferences and sales meetings back then, one could sense the devotion and dreams in the presentations. All of this changed in the last quarter of the 20th century, as the old general aviation firms were sold and wrapped under conglomerate, non-aviation management. This brought cautious decision-making and design compromise by consensus, with legal, sales, engineering, and bookkeeping departments making sure all interests were represented. Lockheed engineer Kelly Johnson once said, “From now on, there will be no more great airplanes, just adequate ones.”

The Sizzling ’70s

The 1960s had seen heady expansion of product lines. By 1970, Piper had largely made the switch from building fabric-covered airplanes at its old plant in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania, to all-metal designs streaming from a bright new complex in Florida. Labor problems and a disastrous flood in 1972 ended the Lock Haven era and the Comanche line, although the Aztec and Navajo twins continued. However, there were plenty of other options in the product line. The Piper Cherokee, also known as the PA-28 platform, had been expanded to at least eight variants, being added to six twins and the Pawnee ag planes. Cessna was building half of the world’s GA airplanes in its Kansas facilities, offering no less than a dozen singles, eight twins, and a new bizjet on the horizon. Beech, meanwhile, now had 12 single-engine models, seven twins, and three turboprops in its fleet. And the 1970s were just starting.

Vertical integration seemed to be important, in that each major manufacturer wanted to offer a two-seat trainer, four-seat family airplane, higher-powered business cruiser, and complex retract. Twins were similarly ranked—as light, medium, and cabin class—with pressurization and turbine engines being the ultimate goal. Piper took the Cherokee Six heavy-single into a Seneca twin in ’72, followed by the Lance retractable in ’76. Tapered wings and stretched fuselages improved the smaller Cherokees, and a true two-seater, the Tomahawk, came along in ’78, followed by the Seminole light twin. At the top, the Navajo cabin twin became stretched, pressurized, and turbine-ized.

Over at Cessna, a plethora of preferences had been promulgated by 1970. Tubular landing gear legs replaced older flat springs, manual flaps were changed to electric, the 210 Centurion’s wing struts had been removed, and by the mid-1960s stylish back windows had been installed in nearly all models. Engine turbochargers became an option, starting in ’62 with the 320 twin, then in ’66 for the 206 and 210. Cessna joined Piper in the ag plane business that year, and in ’69 the 206 was stretched into the 207. By the end of 1970s, there were three models of the 210—normal, turbo, and pressurized—the Skylane RG joined the fixed-gear 182, and even the Skyhawk went retractable with the Cutlass RG. On the twin side, the “push-pull” centerline-thrust Skymaster was available in three performance categories, the 310/340 was similarly outfitted, and the 400-series twins offered models with utility, executive, and pressurized cabins. It took until the late 1970s for Cessna to move into the turboprop business since it was occupied with the Citation jets earlier in that decade.

Beech was busy introducing the stretched King Air 100 in 1970 and the flagship Super King Air 200 for ’74, adding the longer Baron 58 in ’70, a pressurized Baron 58P, in ’76 and the Duchess light twin in ’78, while continuing to build piston-engine Queen Airs and Dukes. Still, Beech found time to put retractable gear on the Musketeer and add an extra cabin door to the light airplanes, and to develop the two-place Skipper trainer at the end of the decade.

By no means was all the action in the ’70s limited to the “Big Three” airplane manufacturers. Mooney was innovating like crazy in that time frame, with the introduction of the cleaned-up 201 and the turbo 231. Other short-line manufacturers like Bellanca/Champion, Maule, and Grumman American enlarged their offerings, and Rockwell jumped into its own single-engine Commander business after first trying to acquire smaller companies in the 1960s. The ’70s were full of enthusiasm for aviation, despite an oil embargo setback in 1973-74 and a disrupting air traffic controller strike in 1981. By the mid-’80s, it was all over.

Did CAR 3 Play a Role?

What may have made all these developments of new airplane types possible was the continuing use of Civil Air Regulation Part 3 certification, a holdover from the Civil Aeronautics Authority, predecessor to the Federal Aviation Administration’s creation in 1958. With the changeover to the FAA’s Federal Air Regulations, FAR Part 23 became the new certification basis for light aircraft, gradually evolving into a fresh start with some new requirements added to the old CAR 3 rules. As this regulatory meshing took some time to accomplish, established airplane companies rushed to certify as many new models as possible under CAR 3, filing applications that could grandfather them into existing rules while product development continued into the ’60s.

Using these old CAR 3 certifications as basis, most of our legacy fleet was built using amendments to the original type certificate, even though the airplanes were marketed as “new” models. Hence, the 1968-introduced Beech Bonanza 36 was certified as an addition to the CAR 3-basis TC #3A15, which was originally issued for the Bonanza H35 of 1957. Cessna’s Bonanza competitors, beginning with the model 210 certified on April 20, 1959, were also certified under CAR 3 except for the pressurized P210 because its original application was dated August 13, 1956. Even the ’64 Cessna 206 was certified as a CAR Part 3 airplane, as the original application was dated November 9, 1962, continuing right up through the end of legacy 206 production in ’86.

For its part, Piper introduced the PA-28 Cherokee in ’61 under CAR 3 certification basis from an application dated February 14, 1958. Even the PA-32 Cherokee Six was born as a CAR 3 airplane in ’65 with an application dated ’64. Similar modifications to original CAR 3 certifications took place at Mooney, Champion, Rockwell Commander, Lake, and Maule. To be fair, subsequent model changes through the ’70s frequently complied with FAR Part 23 amendments applicable to their dates of certification, even though they were built as CAR 3-certified airplanes. On the other hand, the four-seat Grumman AA-5 airplanes were certified under FAR Part 23 with an original application dated July 2, 1970.

As is typical of the mission creep inherent in any administrative law, FAR Part 23 certification grew in complexity from the boilerplate inherited from CAR 3. Much of this was inevitable as new construction methods and materials were developed, and equipment unanticipated in CAR 3 was placed on airplanes. However, grandfathering in earlier type certification, rather than pursuing entirely new FAR 23 approval, meant less time and money was required to produce a new aircraft.

Are FAA Part 23-certified airplanes any better? It depends on which level of amendments they complied with. Certification under Part 23 in the ’60s was quite similar to the CAR 3 certification of a decade earlier, but Part 23 amendments of the ’80s had evolved to a greater degree. When it comes to engineering small unpressurized general aviation aircraft, however, structures are typically overbuilt simply for durability and manufacturing ease. The basic criteria for CAR Part 3 and FAR Part 23 remain much the same. CAR 3’s stipulation that stall speed for single-engine airplanes shall not exceed
70 mph is simply restated in FAR 23 as “61 knots.” However, as mentioned, there have been multitudinous minutia added in FAR 23, often in response to newer materials and devices never contemplated in CAR 3 days. Each of these must be given consideration when developing entirely new designs, taking up engineering time and documentation.

Most significantly, this prodigious adaptation and modification of basic CAR 3 aircraft designs, along with introduction of entirely new FAR 23 ones, continued through the ’60s and ’70s. Each of the major manufacturers wanted to make sure customers were able to remain loyal as they upgraded into higher-performance airplanes. They accomplished this by increasing the number of types offered and seeing that any small opening into an unserved need was met with a new model.
And so it was that fixed-gear models received retractable landing gear. The fuselage stretched to accommodate extra seats. Four-cylinder engines became six-cylinder powerplants. Turbocharged models complemented normally aspirated offerings. Even twin engines were grafted onto single-engine airframes. Pressurization, turbine engines, tip tanks, cargo pods: if you wanted it, engineering and marketing departments made sure you could get it.

Market saturation eventually brought down the number of aircraft types, and production rates plummeted in the ’80s to match the lack of buyers. Contributing to the collapse of the ’80s was a lingering economic malaise from double-digit interest rates and inflation, and the increasing cost of product liability insurance against the growth industry of tort suits, divided by the fewer and fewer units sold.

Why can’t we just make new old ones?

Challenges on several fronts make reviving old type-certificated aircraft difficult. Small production rates mean handcrafting what was once mass-produced, so each unit costs more. Rebuilding the market requires making enough people want what you have to offer. The numbers of active pilots and qualified, motivated buyers are down compared to the bustling days, and consumer expectations are much higher now, requiring airframes to be bloated with quality accessories. Back in the day, comfort and ease of use took a back seat to the thrill of flight. We didn’t expect to have air conditioning in our airplane because it weighed half as much as a passenger and it wasn’t needed aloft. Plush seating, Wi-Fi, sound deadening, single-lever power control, and wall-to-wall glass instrument panels weren’t a priority or even dreamed about 50 years ago. We were just glad to have an engine, wings, and freedom to fly. Legacy airplanes today need considerable upgrading to bring them up to speed with current buyer desires.

Airports were social communities during the last third of the 1900s. Security was almost nonexistent, perceived threats being remote, so coming and going was less restricted and hurried. Pilots spent time at the airport. Airport lounges were often untidy but welcoming places that encouraged hanging out, not polished palaces to pass through. If you parked outside with your new 1970 Mooney, someone would come out to admire it, not shepherd it away to piston-engine row. Today’s aircraft owners are far different. Many are users of airplanes, not flyers for the sake of flying. They are more satisfied to possess their flying machines—less so to be companions with them.

That said, the great fleet of general aviation aircraft built in the two decades of the mid-’60s to mid-’80s still represents a wonderful opportunity for acquisition and preservation. We must not underestimate the continuing rise in maintenance and operation costs. But these remarkable old birds serve their purpose as well as they ever did, if we’ll just take care of them.
Let us rise to the challenge.

Editor’s note: This story originally appeared in the July 2023 issue of Plane & Pilot.

The post Sustaining Our Fleet appeared first on Plane & Pilot Magazine.