Brother Dave was trying to fly from Gadsden [AL] Municipal Airport to Charlotte when one of the two engines on his Cessna Skykight failed on take off.
There were four of us on board, Dave; Jack Lambert, who is married to our sister, Alene; H.C. Mundy, an old friend of Dave’s; and me. Dave had taken us to the Senior Bowl in Mobile and then to Super Bowl IX, played Tulane Stadium in New Orleans. The Pittsburgh Steelers had dominated the Minnesota Vikings, 16-6, and won the first of their six Super Bowl championships.
We flew out of New Orleans on Sunday night after the game and stopped off in Gadsden to visit relatives and spend the night.
[When we took off from New Orleans there was a lot of traffic, a lot of private planes, all around. I was trying to keep track of them, pointing out the ones that seemed, to me at least, to be close and getting closer. Some of traffic was in front of us but Dave told me not to use the phrase “dead ahead.”]
It was cold the next morning — Jan. 13, 1975 — as Dave taxied the Skyknight to the end of the runway. When he released the brakes and gave it the gas the plane took off down the runway, rapidly gaining speed.
We were rolling when the right engine failed and the plane veer sharply to the right, off the runway and onto a grassy apron that was frozen as hard as concrete.
What did Dave do?
He cranked the engine –it was just cold, he said– taxied back to the end of the runway, warmed it up some more, and tried again. Pretty soon we were back in Charlotte.
NOTE: I don’t want you to get the wrong idea — Dave was an excellent pilot. He flew for years and none of his passengers, or anyone else, was ever killed or injured.
But some of his flights were exciting.
On New Year’s Eve, 1971, Donna and I moved from an apartment on Brigadoon Drive in Raleigh, where we had lived for seven months after we moved here from Charlotte, into our new house. Dave flew up from Charlotte that morning to help.
It was his first out of town flight but he didn’t have any trouble getting here, he just followed the highway.
Dave flew into little used Raleigh Municipal Airport, just a few months before it closed. Landing at Raleigh Municipal was a lot less complicated than trying to land at Raleigh-Durham International Airport.
My wife, Donna and I were there waiting for him.
As his plane approached the runway a little crowd began to gather, pilots and airport idlers, almost like he was a celebrity or something. They were watching his landing with intense interest.
I heard one of them say, “I think he’s going to make it!”
The rookie was landing with the wind at his back.
Coming Monday: Thump ‘Em, Bo!
Brother Dave and I were jammed together tighter than Dick’s hat band, like Saturday night on the midway of the N.C. State Fair, times two.