Page 8 - SPLASH! I fell into an irrigation ditch or river.

     Close enough. I stopped pulling my airplane to see where I could park it and tie it down.


     "How can I tie it down?"  I can't see the tie down area or even if there is another tie down area.  I walk up to the wing of the tied down airplane, get down on my knees, and started crawling in the direction of a possible tie down spot. Blessed, I found a tie down spot with a rope. If I'm lucky, the next tie down spot or tie down rope should not be that far away. "I found it!"



Winnemucca Mountain at sunset



     Now to get my airplane and somehow pull it into the tie down location and not hit the airplane that is already there. I have nothing but time, and I will take my time with utmost care. Finally, I have the airplane bedded down for the night. I didn't tie the tail down as there was no wind.

     It is getting cold. I'll freeze in the airplane! I should walk to town.



     I walk toward the lights of Wennemucca carrying a brief  case that contains charts and other important things. Pilot is right beside me. BANG! I walked into a barbed wire fence! Now, I can see the lights of a car, so I know there is a highway near. I can hear water running. I can't swim and don't have a change of clothes. I slowly walk to the highway. Maybe, I can catch a ride into town. SPLASH! I fell into an irrigation ditch or river. I have to tread water and try to make it to the other side. I have no idea where Pilot is. A couple of  minutes pass, and I have made it to the other bank, and Pilot is back with me.

     A long walk, in freezing temperatures, as I made it into Wennemucca.  The first place I come to is a service station and I"m happy that it was still open for business.

     I would tell the attendant that I needed a phone, if there was one available, and I needed to close a flight plan since I arrived a couple of hours ago.

Page 7 - Pilot, the dog, thinks I have gone crazy...

     Stops at Sacremento, CA and Reno, NV were somewhat routine, but the flight is challenging. The landscape was continuously changing, and I was compelled to keep close track of my flight path.
     Coming up on Wennemucca, darkness is coming on fast! If there is an airport, I don't see it. No lights to check the chart. Surface detail is almost gone as I come over the city of Wennemucca. No lights to indicate an airport. Time is running out, and I have to land! But, where? Should I go back to the lighted but closed airport? The landscape is not totally black as I cross a little river or stream and make a turn to the right. I see what appears to be a spot lighter than any place around it. Pilot, the dog, thinks I have gone crazy as he jumps to the baggage compartment.  He can sense all is not well. Can't see inside and have no idea how high I am above anything! I can see a tinge of twilight, but nothing in front of the plane as I try to see out the side window to try to see the surface of the ground before I hit it. I'm rolling! Things seem all right. As soon as possible, I come to a stop, and I really don't know where I'm at. I'd like to just set back and think about all of this but complete darkness is coming on. I need to be doing something.
     I get out of the airplane soon followed by Pilot, the dog. I can see the lights of Wennemucca in the distance, and how far away, I really don't know.
     My eyes, adjusting to the enviroment, I begin to walk away from the airplance to find something to identify where I am.
     As I walk, I can see faint outline of a building. As I get closer, I can see it looked like an office building.  The door of the building was hanging on one hinge. Now a closer look at things and I see the outline of an airplane. The airplane is cut in two. What did that?!  I look out to see my airplane, but it is so dark, I can't see it.
     Now what to do with my airplane my life line to Montana or anywhere. I get  to the airplane and try to push it, but then thinking I might push it into something and hurt it. I decide to pull it. Maybe I can see something before I hit it. As I pull the plane, I begin to see one edge of the old and abandoned office building, and as I get closer,  I can see the outline of the airplane that was tied down near the office building.

Page 6 - The weather is a no go for now

     November 10, 1952. I awake before sun up, check all the things I will need to make the trip. "Pilot" can sense my excitement, and he likes to fly and will be a good companion.  I open the door of the trailer home to find the fog so thick you could cut it with a knife.  I go over to the office. I can't even see the runway lights. It is so foggy. I call San Francisco tower to see about the weather to find it is no go for now.
     Just like the dreams have been telling me.  These dreams will not turn me loose, as it is late in the year and it will be near mid morning probably before the fog clears. I will call each hour and hope they don't get irritated with me.
     Before going on this flight, I had talked about some of the fuel stops with the San Francisco Land Company which had a Dehavaland Beaver. They would tell me that when I get to Winnemucca, Nevada not to land at the first airport I would come to as it was closed. With no real cross country experience and having never been up in the Winnemucca area before, I will remember what the San Francisco Land Company told me.
     How I would like to get an early start! I'm nearly overwhelmed with excitement. It's near noon, and the fog is so thick I can hardly see the end of the runway at the San Mateo airport. One o'clock. I call the San Francisco tower again. No go. Finally about 2pm they called me by name and gave me a clearance to cross the Oakland Bay at a certain altitude.
     I bid my wife and daughter goodbye as Pilot and I enter the airplane and started on our way. Weather is marginal, but I'm on my way. Sacremento is the first fuel stop and all is okay. Reno, Nevada, the second fuel stop, and all is okay. Now it is late in the afternoon, go or no go, it is on to Lovelock, Nevada, and the sun is about to set. I have to be very careful as I decide to go on to Winnemucca. Can I make Winnemucca before dark? Now, the sun is down. As I fly on, I begin to lose surface detail. I see car lights, but not the shapes of the cars. As I can probably see the lights of Wennemucca, I see a lighted airport. But the Land Company said that airport is closed!

Page 5 - There is my plane that looks worse than I feel.

Evening, November 9, 1952, I'm climbing up on a wing of a Stinson Reliant. I was fueling the airplane when there is someone pulling on my trousers. I look down to see who it might be. One of the mechanics has told me that I was going to Montana tomorrow! I started shaking and nearly crying and told the mechanic not to tease me, that my heart is nearly broken and if he looks on down the row of airplanes, there is my plane that looks worse than I feel.  The mechanic said this is not a joke and that when I get through servicing the Stinson to go get the other mechanic or both of them and they will pull the airplane down to the shop!
     "How about all of this?  How is this all happening?" I nearly pump gas on the ground I'm so excited about this change of events. SOMEONE CARES FOR ME! SOMEONE IS WATCHING OVER ME!
     We get the airplane down to the shop. I have told my wife about this strange turn of events, and that I will go to Montana or start to Montana tomorrow. I tell my wife that the mechanics have the airplane in the shop. I had no idea that some time earlier they had ordered a new windshield for the airplane, and they had a used propeller that would work on my plane. Everything is a go despite one of the mechanics wife had earlier in the day had a mild heart seizure. They assured me she was going to be all right, and the mechanics would still be able to work on the plane.


Pilot flew 11 years with Harlan.



     My wife would start cooking some treats and brewing coffee. In two hours flat, the windshield had been replaced, the hole in the wing repaired, just not a final coat of dope or no color. I didn't need the damaged portion of the wing repainted to fly.  They would fix a section of the engine cowling and replaced the propeller with the used propeller that would work on that engine. It would perform a little different that the original propeller, but it would for sure work. They even installed a temporary two way radio. All is well. The mechanics and a higher authority had faith in what I can do. Tomorrow, at sun up, I will head off across the San Francisco Bay and on my way to Montana! Even my dog Pilot could sense my excitement.  I don't know if I can even sleep, but I don't care. I'm finally going to go to Montana!

    

Page 4 - My world came to an end, when I prop the plane...

     It is Halloween night 1952. The trip to Montana has been planned. I have saved the money, and weather permitting and the airplane checking out ok, I'm going to Montana no matter what anyone says.

     The early evening of Halloween, I will give the little airplane a check flight and see if all the systems say "go." I fly around the patch a few times doing take offs and landings. I notice on the last landing, in the approach mode, the airspeed indicator says "ZERO." It has to say something as I am flying, but this problem will have to be taken care of tonight!



     I land and tell my wife that after supper (we live on the airport) I will take the airplane out to the shop and work on it. My wife protests against the idea saying that someone pulling Halloween pranks might come on the airport and hurt me or hurt something. She insists this is something I should not be doing and to let a certified mechanic check out the airspeed indicator.

     I was bullheaded. I would not listen. After supper, I will go and work on the airplane after I take it from the tie down area and take it to the shop and just leave it in the shop overnight. My trailer house is right beside the maintenence shop, and I can load the airplance the next day for the trip.



Loraine Carter - Owner of the Plane I hit.


     Supper over, I go out to the airplane, look it over, and put one shock in front of the right wheel. I put the magnitos to both and will prop the plane. My world came to an end when I prop the plane and the throttle creeps forward and spins the airplane around. As I am getting into the seat to cut the switch, TOO LATE! BANG! I hit an airplane that is next to it as part of the wing of the adjacent plane goes through the windshield of my airplane and through the hair of my head! Of all the airplanes to hit, it would be one owned by a woman aerobatic champion. My dreams have come true. It is now real. I can't go to Montana.

     Everyone, even my best friends would tell me not to make the Montana trip because of lack of experience, and the airplane would lack the performance to safely make the trip over the Sierras, and the Rocky Mountains would still be a problem that my experience could not cope with.

Page 3 - Why doesn't someone say "yes?"

     One early summer day in 1952, there is an ad in a paper called "Trade a Plane."  There would be a Piper Vagabond for sale. I would inquire about the airplane, but could not afford the down payment or monthly payments. Time will tell, maybe something will come up. I continue with dreams about going up to Montana in my own airplane, but all the dreams end in dissappointment.
     I'm now living at the San Mateo Airport.  I service amny private airplanes every day, and I would see a number of airplanes every day.  I would see a number of airplanes that i would like to own, but "if wishes were fishes, we would all take a swim." With the pay that i get I can never ever afford an airplane.
     One day, I would see an airplane I would like to have.  I liked it so well I wanted to actually kiss it!  I was falling in love with it.  I was visiting with the owner about what this airplane would cost when my wife comes running down between a row of parked planes, laughing and saying "See what I got?"  It would be a letter about the Vagabond I wanted to buy and couldn't afford. The owner would now sell it for half the down payment and cut the monthly payments in half! It is possible, I think, I can get this airplane.  I would meet a pilot from England that flew at the San Mateo airport, and it would end up he would go get the airplane for me. It would be setting in the door of a silver mine at Globe, AZ. The dreams continue and as all dreams I never can make a successful flight to Montana.
     I bought the Piper Vagabond. It was like I had a new friend to go with a new and little friend.  "How much is that dog in the window? I do wish that dog was for sale." He was for sale, and  I needed a flying partner.  This shepard cocker spaniel dog would be named "Pilot" and he would fly with me for eleven years.
     Now, just maybe, I will be able to make a flight to Montana and show off this little jewel. I will carefully plan everything it will take to make this flight. Everyone tells me no, that I will not have enough fuel range to make certain legs of the flight nor will I have the experience. Why doesn't someone say yes?

Page 2 - I want to be a pilot

     One winter day while I was in grade school, I saw an airplane parked by the fence adjacent to the school yard.  I hoped school would be out before the airplane left. "I have to see this airplane!"  School would be out before the airplane left, and I ran out to see it, touch it, examine it, see who made it, and what kind of plane was it.  The soft falling snow made the atmosphere that surrounds the airplane all the more mysterious and exciting. There were pelts from coyotes hanging on the wing struts, and that only added to the excitement of what I was seeing. The airplane was a Taylorcraft, a two place side by side airplane on ski's. YES! I'm hooked. I WANT to be a pilot.      I was thirteen years of age, when I was building a model plane on the dining room table. My father would walk into the room and question me as to what I was doing. I told him that I was building a model airplane, and he said, "That's for babies to do. Why don't you do something worth while?"  I told him that if I ever got another dime I would buy a  model just like it, and I would build it better than the one I'm building, and if I ever got a dime after that I would buy a model plane just like it and it would be better still!
     "Harlan, you will never learn to fly, and if you did learn to fly you could never afford to buy an airplane and if you did ever get an airplane it would be useless and to what good would you ever get out of having it?"
     I would never ever forget the remarks that my father had made to me concerning airplanes.  The remarks would be branded in the back of my mind. In all my spare time, I would wonder about airplanes, anxious to take a ride in one someday.
     September 6, 1947 I would solo in a Piper J-3 Cub, N92288, at Minot, North Dakota.
     Time would go by and I would join the United States Navy. I would go overseas to Guam, MI. Almost every night, I would dream about airplanes. In almost all the dreams, I'm going to take an airplane home to Montana, but in all the dreams, none of the flights or to be flights to Montana were to be successful.
     Around June 20, 1950, I would arrive back in the United States (a strange story just about my arrival). June 23 I bought my first airplane. I'm still continuing to dream about flying home and in my own airplane.
     Now that I have the airplane, I will fly my airplane home on leave.  Harry S. Truman says NO.  All leaves are cancelled, and we will invade Korea.  The dreams, no matter how dissappointing, are still like dreams would be, I have my own airplane and still can't go home.
     One day previous to January 9, 1952, I would see the airplane, a fiesty looking little airplane, a Piper PA-17 Vagabond.  I loved the Piper J-3 Cub, but I was never able to take it to Montana, and I would one day sell it.  The dreams of going to Montana has nearly faded.  I will never ever make it to Montana in my own airplane.

1937 - Page 1

     One day during the school year, I was very depressed. I really didn't want to go to school. Nothing seemed right to me, and I would skip school. I started out from home like I was going to school but would stop at the bottom of a little hill beside a creek bottom. I would lay down in the tall grass, listen to the wind, watch birds fly by, and listen to nature. How comfortable I felt! Sort of all alone with God. We are not here by chance. Every thing seems too beautiful, and I enjoy the peace that surrounds me. I will probably be punished for not going to school, but the peace and joy that surrounds me will be well worth it.
     On a rainy day, I'm looking out the window, listening to the rain and breeze that was along with it. I'm alone looking out the window, wishing I could go out and play but knowing I'm not able to in this rainy weather.  While I listen to the light rain drops touching and running down the window, someone, someone I can't see, tells me that one day I would be flying airplanes. What is happening? What is all of this? I'm not sure of what I heard or anything about airplanes. How would I tell my parents? They will only laugh at me. I could tell an older sister or brother, but they would not believe me or even understand what I was talking about.
     What do I do? I'm no different than anyone else, but something has happened to me that I don't understand.  I would play cowboys and indians with my friends, play like we were pirates, but somehow I think about things differently and in a way I can't explain.
     Now, about airplanes, maybe I could like airplanes, but it is not likely I will ever see one up close.

Sneak Peak

"Harlan, you will never learn to fly and if you did learn to fly you could never afford to buy an airplane and if you did ever get an airplane it would be useless and to what good would you ever get out of having it" - Fred Yates