 Thrills Over AtlantaA Tour Through Time Aboard a World War II Biplane
By Mickey Goodman
My dad, a member of "the Greatest Generation," was passionate about flying before, during and after World War II. Mom joked that they courted at the airport in Jackson, Miss. He was up in the wild blue yonder and her feet were firmly planted on the ground.
On each of their anniversaries - all 69 of them - she retold the story of their January 1932 wedding day. Instead of nervously waiting for time to pass, Dad decided to take his best man up for a bird's-eye view. In the middle of a "loop-de-loop" (360-vertical loop), his wallet, change and one shiny unworn wedding band tumbled from his pockets and were forever lost in a farm field.
Sentimental Journey
I took numerous flights with him in one of the post-war Mooney's or Cessna's that his flight club owned, but I never fully understood his love affair with planes until I climbed into the open cockpit of Brian Wolf's 1941 Stearman. The biplane, with its oversized engine and taxi cab-yellow fabric, is identical to the plane Dad trained in prior to being shipped overseas.
With a warm wind swirling around me, Lake Allatoona and the city of Acworth below and a sapphire sky overhead, I lived out my childhood fantasy of slipping on wings and flying into the clouds to meet him. But the real adrenaline rush came when Wolf turned the controls over to me. Clutching the stick tightly, I was no longer the wannabe-winged creature. I was flying. I banked to the right, then left, dropped the nose, then pulled back on the stick to send the Stearman soaring skyward. It was the first of many thrills over Atlanta in the vintage plane.
On my second adventure aboard the Stearman a week later, I joined intrepid Points North editor Julie Clark, graphic designer Bruce Schneider, photographer Tom Cooper and pilots Wolf, Cullen Underwood and Steve Collins as we flew in formation over Downtown Atlanta. If you think the city's skyline is impressive from the ground, you "ain't seen nuttin" until you catch a glimpse of our lovely city from the air.
Clark agreed. Though she had tried skydiving once, the open-cockpit experience was new. "I expected a wind tunnel, but it was actually quite a peaceful experience," she said. "With a bird's-eye view of the city, I was amazed how green and lush everything looked and how much Atlantic Station has altered the cityscape." With a new appreciation of the complexities and joys of flying, Clark is eager to return to the skies.
To the Future and Back
Wolf, whose life is Batman-esque, never tires of flying. By day, the Air National Guard Reserves Major serves with the 160th Fighter Squadron in Montgomery, Ala., where he flies F-16 Fighting Falcons. At leisure, he assumes a persona much like the mild-mannered Bruce Wayne and enjoys ferry-ing pilot-wannabes like me aboard the vintage Stearman. He also makes an appearance at air shows and fly-ins around the Southeast, where he delights in introducing younger generations to vintage planes and giving them their first taste of flight.
To connect his two lives in the shortest time possible, Wolf flies a sleek experimental RV-4 built from a kit by another flight enthusiast. "It's fast, maneuverable and aero-batic," he said with a grin. "Why commute to Atlanta in three hours when you can
fly in 45 minutes and have a great time doing it?"
The son and grandson of pilots, Wolf has been an avid enthusiast since he took his first plane ride at age 15. Naturally, he gravitated toward a career in the military service. During the last 20 years, he has logged more than 3,000 hours in the air. He's flown missions in Turkey, Iraq, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and "several places I can't tell you about," he said. He returned from the Middle East in December 2004 and is scheduled to return to Middle Eastern skies this summer.
Comparing the F-16 and the Stearman is a much bigger stretch than the proverbial apples to oranges, he explained. The F-16 is a Formula 1 racecar; the Stearman is a 1957 Chevy. The F-16 streaks across the sky at Mach 2 and flies at altitudes up to 50,000 feet. By comparison, the pokey Stearman, nicknamed the "Yellow Peril" because of its tricky landing characteristics, cruises at 100 miles per hour at approximately 1,000 feet. "It's so slow it's the only plane that can fall out of a dive," Wolf laughed. "The F-16 is 95 percent work and five percent fun. The Stearman is five percent work and 95 percent fun. I've flown low and slow and high and fast, but flying a Stearman is not like work."
As for ease in handling, he credits the F-16 as tops. "It's got to be," he said. "You need to employ the weapons system, communicate with the ground while someone shoots at you, correct the avionics and put bombs where you want them, all at the same time. You need your brain to put the weapon on target and be absolutely certain before you fire. The last thing on your mind is flying."
On the first night of the Iraqi War in March of 2003, Wolf was airborne as a Scud hunter. "In 2004, we dropped the bombs on the guys in Fallujah that beheaded the Georgian civil engineer working in Iraq," he said. "The drop came late at night. While we were eating breakfast the next morning, we watched the mission we had just accomplished unfold on Fox News."
When Wolf decided to buy a historic plane, the 1941 biplane was an obvious choice. It is so widely known that the term "Stearman" has become generic for almost all biplanes. In addition, the construction is simple and it's rugged and dependable, so much so that it served as a trainer for both the Army and the Navy during WWII.
Because the engine is also used in tanks, parts are plentiful and there are thousands of Stearman enthusiasts. "About 11,000 were built, and there are more than 1,000 still in existence," Wolf said.
Many common expressions like "bit the dust" and "bought the farm" stem from experiences of those early cadets. "When pilots crashed into a farmer's field, the ensuing fire ruined the crops," Wolf explained. "The government compensated the farmer for his land or 'bought the farm.'" A pilot that "bit the dust" never returned from his training mission.
Flight of Fancy
Peer into the cockpit of an F-16 and you have a panoramic view. Sit in the pilot's seat of a Stearman and you come up blank, as
the nose and the oversized engine points skyward. To compensate and ensure he's heading down the center of the runway, the pilot fishtails from side to side. From the passenger's perspective, it's akin to riding "co-pilot" with a child driving a bumper car at an amusement park. But once the plane levels in the air, the entire universe appears within clear view.
Though the noise level was expected, the roar and swoosh of the wind in the open cockpit makes normal conversation between pilot and passenger impossible. The easy fix is supplying headsets and microphones for both pilot and passenger.
Memories
Memories of Dad kept running through my head on the morning of the flight. On impulse, I dug through a file drawer containing the military records Dad had guarded these many years and pulled out his earphones the same set he was issued more than 60 years ago. From Stearman biplanes to the
C-46 and C-47 cargo planes he flew over the treacherous "Hump" (Himalayas), the headphones served him well. Miraculously, when we plugged them in, Wolf's voice came through loud and clear.
Dad's love affair with flight never ended. Losing his pilot's license at the age of 80 due to poor eyesight was devastating, but he continued to subscribe to several flying-related magazines until his death 15 years later. My infatuation with Stearmans is just beginning. I may have taken only two flights to date, but they won't be my last. I only wish that Dad could have climbed aboard that yellow bird one last time. Somehow, in some way, I know he flew beside me.
Photos courtesy of Tom C. Cooper.
For More Information
Vintage Flights
Brian Wolf
Cobb Co-McCollum Airport
Kennesaw
678-699-1929
Biplane Rides Over Atlanta Inc.
Steve Collins
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