On Sunday, March 10th, eight of us drove 42 miles north of McCook to the Dancing Leaf Lodge on Opal Springs Road. None of us had been there since it was called Camp Opal Springs for the Boy Scouts. My last visit there was in the early summer of 1960. Just before I attended the Boy Scout National Jamboree near Colorado Springs and discovering girls then dating. Girls and sports eventually ended my scouting career. Clicking on the photos will show you a larger view.
The drive up was a little messy from the snow and ice storm the previous night but the further north we drove the better were the roads. We arrive there about 1230 and were immediately invited into their beautiful home and dining area. After marveling at the beautiful interior and lofts we sat down to an authentic buffalo stew, blue corn muffins, carrots, green grapes and melon dinner. Jan Hosic, the hostess, explained that the Indians living in the area 1000 years ago would probably have eaten something similar. I found the lunch tasty and went back for seconds.
Following our dinner Les Hosick escorted the eight of us over to the small museum full of Indian and prehistoric animal artifacts. For an hour Les held us spellbound by delivered one of the best history lessons I’ve had the opportunity to experience. He sure knew his stuff and embellished his stories with bits of humor. I could tell from the questions asked that all of us were thoroughly enjoy the experience. Here are a couple photo of Les giving his talk to us.
The follow photos depict several of the items in the museum:
This next photo is a miniature of the earthen lodge Les made and showed us next.
Here is Les in front of the lodge he constructed over a two year period.
The following two video’s are on my Youtube.com account.
Les at Dancing Leaf Lodge explaining an aspect of ancient Indian living.
Medicine Creek Indian food storage.
We all had a wonderful time watching and learning about the early inhabitants in the Medicine Creek area. We completed our afternoon by purchasing items in their gift shop and saying we would be back sometime in the future with other friends who would enjoy the experience.
Here’s a photo I borrowed from their website showing one of the two rooms in the gift shop.
On Sunday, October 21st I joined Ruth and her many friends in celebrating her birthday. The event was held at the The Event Gallery 910 Arts on Santa Fe Street in Denver, Colorado. I enjoyed meeting some of Ruth’s Denver friends and the art work displayed on the walls of the gallery.
I had my new IPad with me so I was able to play with it and at the same time capture some of Ruth and Albert’s art displayed on the walls.
Here’s the entrance to gallery: and
Once in, you were greeted with these announcements: and
Here’s where I had fun learning how to use a new app on my IPad. It’s called DMD and makes panoramic photos. I tried to embed the script path but could not make it work with this program. If you click on the next photo below it will take you to the actual photo pan. If you look close you will notice that I did not hold my IPad exactly perpendicular and messed up one person’s photo.
Here is a small sample of Ruth’s photo art work. Click on to enlarge.
One of the really fun items Ruth did was to make a digital slideshow of the flower photos she took while on Orcas Island, WA and make it available at the gallery. Here is a short 30 second clip from that video slideshow.
Short clip from Ruth’s 7 minute video slideshow.
Here’s a link to a review by the 303 Magazine of Albert and Ruth’s art exhibit.
Thanks Ruth and Albert for sharing your beautiful work.
Last week Ainsley, her grandmother, surrogate grandfather and great aunt took the short hike to Gaskill in Rocky Mountain Park. Gaskill was the one of the mining towns established in the early 1880 to support the miners up the Kawuneeche Valley north of Grand Lake. The only things visible from the ghost town are some lead sealed tin cans, several indentations in the ground where log homes used to be, and smaller rocked which had to be place on the ground by human hands. Here is Ainsley’s hike in pictures:
One night during the summer of 2000, while living at the family cottage on Grand Lake, I was having trouble sleeping. I began to think about the paper I needed to write for a psychology course I was taking through the Internet. As I quietly lay there organizing my thoughts, they turned to the time I was a USAF instructor pilot in the Cessna T-37 primary jet trainer at Sheppard AFB, Texas, in the early 1970s. Eventually I drifted off to sleep. Then, as always has happened so far, I woke up and started my day.
After dressing, starting my computer and coffee I addressed the following email to my older son.
Dear Son,
Here are some of my thoughts on relationships which occurred to me last night and wanted to share with you:
Looking back and thinking about it, a good pilot needs a very close relationship with his aircraft. The T-37 I flew was affectionately referred to as the 2000-pound dog whistle or the Tweety Bird, shortened to ” Tweet.” After living with her for over four years, I got to know her pretty well and we depended on each other for our lives.
The Tweet had a very consistent personality. If you took care of her, fed her jet fuel, kept all her fluid levels full and clean, didn’t try to do things she was not designed to do, and stayed out of thunderstorms, she would perform all day, every day and virtually never let you down. Because a pilot’s life depends on how he get along with his aircraft (a relationship based on respect), they learned all there was to know about her. In return, she also gave you plenty of straightforward, timely feedback when needed.
The instruments told you where you were in the sky, how fast you were going, and, if she was not feeling up to par that mission, warned you to head for home. Not once on any of my flights did my little Tweety bird ever let me down. And, for the most part, after I learned to fly, I didn’t let her down either. It’s too bad that I had to be out of her cockpit for over 26 years to really begin to understand and appreciate the relationship we had.
The communication between aircraft and pilot is rather intimate. First of all, the Air Force required you to learn all there was to know about her systems and capabilities. The book on the tweet is called the T-37B –1 (dash one). It gives you the facts on all her systems, structure, engines, skin, flight controls, instruments, flight characteristics, speed and altitude limitations, and how to get out of her safely if something serious fails
Nothing was left to chance. If the Air Force learned something new about her personality, we were the first to hear about it. In turn, all that she asked of us was to treat her right and bring her safely home. We certainly asked more of her than she did of us.
When you first started to fly the Tweet in pilot training you were so far behind her you wondered if you would ever catch up. I remember the first time I taxied out on the runway for take off, pushing her throttles to 100% power and as she lifted off, it seemed my mind was still sitting there on the runway waiting for her to start moving. Eventually, after several months and lots of time spent in her cockpit with hours and hours of practice, my thoughts were several miles ahead of where my brain was physically in the air. The faster she flew the further ahead I had to think. That was my first understanding of what thinking proactively meant.
I got to know the Tweet so well from the feedback she gave that I could fly her almost by the sounds and vibrations she sent to me. I could literally move the throttles to a sound level for the particular flight maneuver I wanted, then look at the instrument gages for conformation.
Most of this was done by the sounds she sent me from her engines. No, there wasn’t one thing about her nature I didn’t know. There were times in the beginning when I would horse her throttles and stick around in frustration trying to get her to turn tighter or respond faster, only to have her start to stall. I soon learned that my frustration would only get us in trouble so I changed my behavior. I had tried to change hers and found that impossible.
She would let you know when you were going too slow, too fast, turning too tight or not tight enough. Of course, we both knew your lives depended on each other (a very close relationship I would say) and if either of us let the other down, it could be all over. Therefore, you were always in constant communication. To do this there had to be a good foundation of understand between us.
Fortunately for her pilots, the Tweet didn’t change very much, so it was we flyers who had to adapt and change to her. She was a very forgiving bird to her student pilots. She let them make many mistakes and would usually recover or leave it up to the instructors to save everyone’s life. Oh, what a beautiful relationship we had. The Tweet and I took many long rides together, bored lots of holes through clouds and always returned.
It’s too bad that each of us doesn’t come into the world with a complete “dash 1,” to let those who are going to have a relationship with them learn what makes them tick. But then, most people would not take the time to read it. The other side of the coin is that everyone needs to read and understand their own “dash 1.” Since pilots cannot change their aircraft’s behavior, they should at least understand their own so that it will work in harmony with the aircraft to which they are strapped.
This must be where my thoughts were going last evening. If I am going to improve my relationship with others, as with myself, I must spend some time reading and understanding my own “dash 1.” If I want to do things differently I’m the only person who can rewrite my “dash one.” So, I guess it’s time for me to starting reading, learning, reflecting and changing.
Colonel Lloyd Anders The other man I associate with my wings is Col. Anders. Anders was a staff flight officer at Raldolph AFB when I was going through pilot training in 1969-70, UPT class of 71-03. He was also an instructor pilot in the T-37B primary jet trainer but his rank and AFSC was as staff officer and not primarily as an instructor pilot.
My assigned T-37 instructor pilot, Captain Ryder, was fresh back from Viet Nam and, I believe, really did not want to be in the Tweet (what the T-37 was affectionately called because of its high pitched jet engine whine). He had flown back seat F-4 fighters in Nam and felt this was a real step down from that aircraft. It was, but it’s the job he was given on his return to the real world.
At this point in my training I was struggling. I was not very consistent, and Captain Ryder was having trouble getting me soloed – qualified to make solo flights – in the Tweet. It seemed one day I could fly then the next I would do something stupid and be all over the sky. Captain Ryder didn’t feel comfortable letting me go solo. So, in his frustration, he asked Lt. Col. Anders to fly with me to see if he could get me soloed. If he couldn’t, then it was on to navigation school in California, a fate no member of the flight wanted to happen to them.
When I reported to Lt. Col. Anders, I saw a slightly balding older pilot who looked more like a person my father’s age. I’m guessing he was all of 15 years older than I, making him about 38 or so at the time. Today that seems very young to me. I briefed him for our flight but, by the time I finished, it was going to be too late in the afternoon. I was told to report back the next day.
I found Lt. Col. Anders to be a laid back likeable personality and was an easy conversationalist. Not once during the briefing did he let on that this flight could be one of my last in the Tweet.
The next afternoon I reported to him with the aircraft tail number and gave my briefing for the flight one more time. We collected our parachutes and helmets and took the flight line bus out to our Tweet. For some reason I was not apprehensive about the flight. I believe it was the confidence he conveyed in my ability to complete the mission successfully.
After completing the preflight and taxying out to runway 14R I lowered the canopy, applied full military power and started slowly rolling down the runway. When we were air born I sucked up the gear and flaps and headed west over north San Antonio toward the training areas around Hondo.
The area work went fine, and we were soon headed back to base for some practice landings. We did one touch-and-go landing, then when I turned a right crosswind and leveled off, a light bulb turned on in my mind. Really, it did, just like you see in the cartoons. At that moment, flying the 37 and Steve seemed to come together, and it finally all made sense.
On my next landing Lt. Col. Anders told me to keep the throttles back. He got on the horn and told tower we would be exiting the runway and requested taxi to the RSU where he would get out. A rush of excitement went though me as I realized I was going to get my solo flight.
After dropping off Lt. Col. Anders near the RSU, I taxied to14R, lowered the canopy again and awaited clearance onto the runway and for takeoff. Once airborn I did two touch-and-go landings and a full stop. To me they were perfect. I even greased the last landing. I was so elated on the way back to the parking area, it was difficult to keep my body still in the cockpit. I had managed to overcome that first big hurdle and began to feel like a “real” pilot.
When I arrived at the Operations Center, Lt. Col. Anders congratulated me and watched as my classmates threw me in the horse tank (a custom when you go solo). I was never so happy to be soaking wet and cold. I believe I bought the first round of beer at the O club that evening.
From that day forward my flight training went great and when we graduated in October of 1970 I received, as my first assignment, a Tweet right back to Randolph. At that time, it was considered a pretty good assignment. The war was winding down and most classmates were getting heavies with lots of motors attached and too many crewmembers.
I have nothing but fond memories of these two men who made such a positive impact on my life. Both made a difference in his own way. Thank you Col. Billy Harper and Col. Lloyd Anders; I will never forget how you changed my life’s journey for the better.
Steve
PS – The last time I saw Col. Anders was when we were both stationed in Nakhon Phanom Royal Thai Air Base (commonly called NKP or Naked Fanny) in northeast Thailand in1975. At the time I was the senior director of a weapons control radar crew, and Anders was Deputy Commander for Operations, 56th Special Operations Wing. Using Google I searched for “Col. Anders and NKP, and found this site which contained his full name. http://www.kohtang.com/growth.htm . Once, knowing his full name it didn’t take long to locate him in an Antonio.
The Tweet is now retired from the USAF inventory and replaced with a single engine turboprop. Here is a nice retirement video on the Tweet’s retirement:
T-37 retirement video.
Just this morning my father’s uncle Stu from California sent me this link giving tribute to aviators who have help keep this world free. http://www.youtube.com/v/RU1oB8sGyYM
I hope you have enjoyed this blog. I’ve certainly enjoyed my walk down memory lane remembering that time in my life. It was also time I shared with the world two men who made a difference in my life. I hope that I’ve also been able to pass that tradition on to others.
Colonel Billy Harper When I graduated from training that fall in 1970, my father-in-law, Billy Harper, gave me his wings. They had been given to him in 1942 upon his graduation from Army flight school. The only part of the story I know behind the wings before Billy received them is that they had been the wings another pilot had earned upon his graduation from Army Air Corp flight training years before.
Billy was a super father-in-law and we got along wonderfully. He lived a good life that ended too soon. He, like many of “The Greatest Generation,” smoked and drank way too much. Billy loved to cook. He was extremely proficient in the kitchen and was comfortable with both the gas grill and a large clay Kamado grill he purchased while stationed at Kadena AFB in Okinawa.
Of the many dishes Billy cooked for me, my favorite was his southern fried chicken. He knew how much I enjoyed it, so he always always fried up a batch when I visited. On occasion, when I came to San Antonio for a USAF school, I stayed with Billy and his wife, Olive. As I drove into the city I would begin to think about his fried chicken and hoped it would be there to greet me.
Billy was more to me than a wonderful father-in-law and cook. We became good friends over the years. I loved listening to him tell old flying tales from World War II, or stories about driving the C-47 or C-54 during the Berlin Airlift in 1948/49. Some of his best stories were of growing up on the family’s 12,000-acre ranch near Water Valley, TX, just north of San Angelo.
Billy’s first flight in primary training at Randolph Field in 1942 is, a story I will never forget. At that time Billy was already a private pilot, but his fun-loving instructor pilot (IP) didn’t know it. As I remember the story, they were flying the PT-13/17Stearman; a tandem two-seat open cockpit bi-plane. Once out in the training area north of Randolph the IP asked cadet Harper if he would like to see what the “aircraft could do.” Of course, Billy yelled back that he would. (It was a common practice at that time to try and get the cadets airsick on their first ride. That “sick” tradition was still around when I was a student pilot in 1969-70.)
The IP lowered the nose to gain some airspeed, then raised it and began a tight aileron roll to the left. Unfortunately for the IP that day, he had forgotten to strap himself in prior to takeoff and dropped out of the inverted aircraft. When Billy realized what had happened he took control, leveled off and began a slow circle watching his instructor – who did remember to bring his parachute along, slowly descend toward the ground.
Next, he got on the horn and called Randolph tower. “Tower, this is cadet Harper, B. J. in area 5 level at 3000 feet. My IP has fallen out of the plane and is parachuting to the ground. What do you want me to do?”
Billy told me that “tower” got pretty excited. Because it was his first flight, tower assumed he did not know how to fly and would probably crash and burn. Not to be. He informed them he could fly the aircraft back to base and land, which is what he did. Eventually Billy was trained as an IP and spent most of the war in Texas and Louisiana training pilots. You can see the Stearman flying on the following YouTube video. It’s the wrong branch of service, but the same aircraft. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JM1jSU4FEPw
Another of Billy’s stories involved several lieutenant IPs stationed in Louisiana at Lake Charles AAF (as memory serves me). They were flying the AT-6 Texan and giving advance single engine training before the future fighter pilots went on to their final aircraft assignments.
As the story goes, Billy and several other 1st lieutenants were out flying under brides, trying to prove how good and daring a pilot each could be. Not too far from the base was a chicken/egg ranch with a barn topped with a weather vane. The challenge was to see who could fly close enough to the weather vane to make it twirl, but not knock it off or end up impaled on the barn. After several passes by each aircraft, they flew off into the wild blue Louisiana sky and returned to base.
Several days later the young lieutenants were all called into the squadron ops center and dressed down by a senior officer. It was explained that the chicken farmer had taken down their aircraft tail numbers and filed a complaint against the Army for loss of revenue because the chickens had been traumatized and stopped laying eggs. The guilty parties eventually had to shell out the lost revenue to the chicken farmer translating into an expensive afternoon of fun and daring.
Part 2 of the 3 part blog. More tomorrow…………. Part 3
Maybe this aircraft should be the USAF’s next flight trainer??
One of my proudest moments happened on a beautiful fall Saturday morning in October 1970 at Randolph Air Force Base, north of San Antonio, Texas. I remember those moments like they happened last fall, not over 40 years ago. Standing there in my dress blue uniform as my beautiful young bride, of just a few weeks, pinned on over my swelling heart, the flight wings I had just earned.
Watching from a few yards away were our parents and Randy Foshee, my closest friend during the past year of 53 weeks, and another fledging pilot receiving his coveted USAF Wings that morning. It was a special moment, one that would never be forgotten.
In January 2012 I was taking a short memoir-writing course at McCook Community College from Linda Crandall, a retired journalism instructor. The last assignment in class was to write about a person or persons an object from our past, brought to our mind. As an example, she showed us a small partially full perfume bottle of Chanel #5 still in its original well-worn box with the label just barely hanging on. Linda shared the story of that special day her father gave her the gift. It was a touching story, and put a lump in my throat.
Her story immediately brought to mind two men I associate with my USAF Pilot Wings, Col. Billy Harper and Col. Lloyd Anders.
Part 1 of a 3 part blog – so more will be continued tomorrow…… Part 2
