Category: Life Stories

Personal history written by Scott Williams, 2010

Scott Williams meeting with Allan Lockheed (Lockheed Aircraft Company)

Interesting story about the B-17. I have a first-hand experience with Mr. Lockheed I would like to relate.

I attended the University of Arizona, College of Mines 1962-1966 and one of my classmates was Allan Lockheed. I remarked to him at some point asking if he was related to THE Lockheed family. He replied that, yes, that would be my dad. I asked where his dad lived and he said he lives with his dad there in Tucson. I asked if I could meet him and Allan said sure, he would check with his dad when it would be convenient for me to come over. It may have been a couple of days later when Allan asked if I wanted to come to his home to meet his father and I replied yes. We drove to his home and went inside. It was a modest brick home in a residential area, not pretentious or overly large or anything that might be expected from a member of a prestigious family. I was somewhat skeptical that this would be someone that had begun an airline manufacturing company.

When Allan and I entered the home, there was an older man inside and Allan introduced me to him saying, this is my dad, XXX Lockheed. I don’t remember his first name, but he was a pleasant man, about 5’5″ or 5’7″, weighed maybe 130 pounds and was maybe 60 years old, maybe a bit more. He said he was a real estate salesman now. We visited a short while and I asked if he was the person responsible for the beginning of the Lockheed Aircraft Company. He replied that he was and then took out a large family photo album filled with pictures of family and lots of aircraft. Some of the pictures were in front of a hangar with a large airplane and I cannot remember if it was a two- or four-engine aircraft, but it seems that it was a two-engine bomber-style airplane. All of the pictures that I saw were taken in the 1920’s & 1930’s and he said that he had completed this large airplane that we were looking at the photos of, and had the trials to complete with the Army. The pictures were of this airplane and also showed many uniformed military images. I think I remember him saying they were all generals and colonels to witness the testing flight of the airplane. He said the airplane took off and headed west over the coast, and that was the last he ever saw of it. The pilot radioed that the aircraft was shaking violently and he could not control it and the radio went silent.

When Mr. Lockheed told me this, I asked him what happened then and he said he found out later that the airplane circled around out of sight and landed at another airport. But at the time the pilot radioed he was experiencing this violent shaking and then silence, the military men were unwilling to wait for another airplane to be built and tested. Money was due to the lenders and they took over the company and Mr. Lockheed was out. He said they were in collusion to take his company, which they did. A few months later, that same airplane flew and was just fine. We visited a bit more and I left. I remember being there about an hour, maybe an hour and a half. I always kept in contact with Allan during the school term and he occasionally asked me to accompany him to the Marana Air Park where he would fly his remote-controlled airplanes he had built, but I never did go with him.

I graduated from the U of A Mines in 1966 and Allan might have graduated a year earlier or later. I was a Navy veteran (Seabees) and older than most of the students. The last contact I had with Allan was about six or eight (maybe 10) years ago (2000 to 2004) when I contacted him in Colorado. I don’t remember the circumstances of this contact as it has been quite a while. But the meeting and visit with his dad has always been a memorable occasion for me and I remember it pretty well, even though it has been almost 40 years.

Scott Williams
williash@aol.com

Personal history written by Robert Roll, July 30, 2008

This is Robert Roll’s personal story of his work experiences as a Ground Radio Operator for Braniff Airlines from 1957 – 1961

I believe the History you’re born into doesn’t necessarily limit your history – but it does define lots of your choices. I was born in the heart of the Great Depression, grew up in during World War II, and graduated from High School facing the Korean War Draft. I chose the Air Force and that choice led to many other of my life’s choices. After spending roughly 3 years of that enlistment in communications at Lowry Flight Service Center I was looking at the possibility in Civilian life working for FAA in Air Route Traffic Control. Unfortunately, my Air Force experience was not on the ‘approved list’; however, Airline Radio Operator was. If I had 12 months experience as an Airline Radio Operator I would have the experience to apply with the FAA. So, when I was released from active duty in December 1955 I was already enrolled in electronic school in Kansas City; class to begin in March, 1956. By early January 1957 I had my new, ink barely dry, FCC 2nd Class Radiotelephone License and off to Dallas, TX to interview with Braniff Airways for a job as an Airline Radio Operator. (They had the only vacancies I knew of at the time.)

What I didn’t know, or failed to comprehend, the Airline Industry was on the threshold of a major transition in 1957. The Lockheed Electra II turboprops and the Boeing 707 turbojets were being prepared to enter airline service in less than two years. These two airplanes would largely mark the end of the need for airline radio operators.

When I began as a Radio Operator with Braniff Airways in January, 1957 Braniff’s newest planes were the Douglas DC-7C aircraft with roughly a 350 mph cruising speed. One of the primary functions of the Airline Radio Operator was to act as a relay between the Company Flights and the Air Route Traffic Control operators. This was accomplished by taking the Pilots reports/requests and phoning it to the ARTC Sector Operator, then relaying the clearance back to the pilot; this could take a number of minutes depending on the speed of the response from ARTC. ARTC did not have much direct communications with aircraft in those days. In piston engine days because of the aircrafts slower speeds this wasn’t as critical as it would become with the advent of the 400+ mph turboprops and would be totally unacceptable with the coming near 600 mph turbojet aircraft [ stated another way: 600mph = 100 miles every 10 minutes!]. It would be absolutely essential for the Air Route Traffic Control center to be in constant and instantaneous contact with every flight under their control. This meant phasing out the ‘middle man’ in the air traffic control loop. Airlines either maintained their own communications networks or turned Company communications over to ARINC after that happened. Braniff maintained its own network but was operated remotely from Dallas only handling company information thus eliminating all but a few Company Operators.

But that was yet to come in my time as a radio operator (1957-1961); we were still receiving requests and delivering clearances. This function was obviously the highest priority of the job, but certainly a long way from the only function. I can only speak of Braniff’s requirements, but expect that they were generally the same throughout the industry at the time. The requirements varied to some degree on the size of the Station and the number of flights operated there. In smaller stations the operator might have to sign off the radio when a flight was arriving or departing and stand fireguard as they started the engines or perform other duties, like helping load and unload luggage.

In larger stations, like Midway and Memphis, there was an Operator on duty 24 hours a day, 7 days a week in order to handle over flights, arrivals and departures any time of the day or night. It was also the Operators duty to assemble and post in the briefing area the various meteorological data for the pilots to study prior to filing their flight plans and to gather the dispatch release and other data required to be attached to the flight release. To this end each station had a weather teletype that printed the hourly weather reports, the forecasts, wind aloft reports and winds aloft forecasts as well as Special Reports and Warnings. These printers functioned at about 60 words per minute, so they were pretty much running all the time. They were Model 15 Teletype machines but about the time I left the job they were being replaced with Model 28 machines which operated at 100 words per minute! Other duties included keeping the Station logbook and inserting revisions to the Station JEPCO manuals which contained all the approach data and other information the flight crews would need for their flight. As well as other duties the local Station Manager considered to be part of a Radio Operator’s job.

The radio equipment used to conduct these communications generally varied by the size of the station and its importance to the network. In all stations there were two types of transmitters and receivers; HF (high frequency) and VHF (Very High Frequency). HF was used for communications out of the local area and to relay messages to the home base in Dallas. Memphis, as best I can recall, had 3 HF frequencies. The highest frequency (8956 kHz) was used to relay messages back to Dallas and not normally used by the flights. The middle frequency (6574.5 kHz) was usually used in daytime to communicate with flights outside our VHF range. The lowest frequency (3456 kHz) was normally used at night. These were based on the ‘general’ skip of HF radio. VHF (130.3 MHz) was only used for flights coming into, going out of, or overhead our station since VHF is line of site. The actual frequencies listed are from memory; so don’t quote me on them– that was a very long time ago! All communication was conducted from the ‘radio room’ which contained the operator console, teletype machines, and typically had a place for the pilots to review the latest weather information for flight planning. The information received over the air was recorded on a specialized typewriter usually called a “Mill” – it only typed capital letters. They were manual machines and in the stations that I worked in appeared to be World War surplus; I’m not certain which war. Some were pretty dilapidated. Do you remember Woodstock Typewriters?? The transmitters and receivers were operated over phone lines to their remote location; normally somewhere off airport property as HF antennas required considerable space. Other duties included operating the Company teletype equipment (Model 19ASR – punched tape machines), sending and receiving company messages pertaining to the operation of the airline. Generally it included arrivals, departure, position reports that could not be relayed by radio (HF was not always reliable), air freight, maintenance, operations messages, and any other communications relating to Airline Operations for that station. About the only thing we did not routinely handle were reservations messages; in some smaller stations that too was part of the job.

We also did minor maintenance on our equipment. Braniff required each Operator to hold either an FCC 2nd Class or 1st Class Radio Operator License. Maintenance typically meant replacing a defective receiver, a fuse, or burned out tube in the transmitter. All heavy maintenance and routine checks were performed by Ground Radio Maintenance personnel out of Dallas. A side note – they were Radio Mechanics – the ‘Technician’ term had not come into vogue back then!

After Phase Out
In 1961 it was apparent that the coming cutback in Radio Operators would require far more than my 4+ years seniority to stay on. I left briefly for an ill chosen job only to have it end in just a few months. (By the way, referring back to the FAA … when I had 12 months experience the requirement had increased to 18 months — at 36 months I finally met the requirement – but there were no vacancies by then!.)

When I returned to Memphis Braniff was looking for Radio Mechanics in the Maintenance Department in Dallas. The requirement was a Radio Telephone 2nd class license. In the time I was gone there had been several Radio Mechanics leave Braniff for the FAA to fill some of the vacancies in the emerging Air Traffic Control Communications Network maintenance areas, thus creating the Braniff maintenance vacancy I filled. I worked 20 years in maintenance until the Company’s bankruptcy in May of 1982, thus ending 25 years of total Airline Experience. When BraniffII emerged I went to work for them for an additional 3 years in the Flight Simulator Department. In 1987 I left there for E-Systems in Greenville, TX. I worked there as a Quality Assurance Engineer on a Classified Government Contract until May 30, 1997 when I retired. I can’t tell you what I did other than it was related to aircraft. You can find out a lot about it by watching the 6:00 news — if I could tell you what night to watch! Like so much ‘security’ information — it all depends on who’s doing the telling as to how much security it has.

Some Anecdotes from Radio Operator Days
Shortly after I arrived in Chicago in 1957 I was breaking in with the operator who was about to leave. He was a great football fan and so was one of the Convair pilots he knew. The Convair pilot was coming into MDW and called in over Peoria ..I took the call and it went something like this: “Chicago, Braniff 562 over Peoria at Doak Walker’s Number estimating Midway at 24.” Fortunately for me the football fan, Smoky, was still there because the pilot, Charlie, wasn’t about to give Doak Walker’s number – any good football fan would know it! Unfortunately I didn’t have a clue… turns out to be 37. There were a number of real characters in the airlines as there are in any business, I guess. Another exchange between Smoky and Charlie occurred another night. Charlie was on a night flight from Dallas to Denver. They were out over Dalhart, TX and were calling in a position report. After Dallas took the report, Smoky says “Watch this,” and keyed the mike and said “Charrrlie!” after a couple seconds the reply came back “El Smoko Ropo!” Even over the staticy HF they could recognize each other’s voices. Not exactly proper protocol, but Charlie didn’t particularly believe in protocol, and Smoky was leaving! These were some of the minor incidences that occurred now and then.

One time when I was working in FSM during a very strong thunderstorm I got a call on the Tower intercom — “Braniff you have a DC-6 coming over the fence.” We didn’t have DC-6 service in Fort Smith and I wasn’t aware of any flights within a hundred miles of us. This was before the days of effective weather radar and satellites. Seems there was a line of storms along the flight path from MKC and DAL … this flight had detoured to the southeast to avoid the storms but was still coming up on more storms ahead, so elected to land at FSM to wait them out; DC-6’s couldn’t fly over them. As soon as operations got the plane parked, the pilot came in and was looking at the weather reports and the company TTY with all the Flight Advisories of delays and mechanical problems that seemed to occur during bad weather. He said, looking at the mechanical delays, “I don’t know why they don’t do like I do … tell them it’s my bad back … I’ve got a yellow streak right up it!” (When it came to flying into severe weather).

I noticed in my time as a Radio Operator there weren’t nearly as many ‘Smoky’s’ as there were ‘Charlie’s.’ Seems driving airplanes attracted some real characters back in those days. I would guess it still does.

One last incident — This occurred before security became so tight — and long after my Radio Operator job had ended. I and a friend were going to Hawaii on vacation. She had never been in the cockpit of an airplane before. It happened that while we were waiting to board the Copilot came by and was someone I had known for years. He said after they got to altitude and the seat belt sign off to come on up and visit. This was a 747. When we reached altitude I asked the Hostess to call the cockpit and see if it was ok to come up … it was. We went up the stairs and I knocked on the door, the Flight Engineer opened it and we went in. You should have seen the look on my friends face … the Pilot and Co-pilot had Rand McNally Road maps open looking at them. OK to the West Coast — but what then??? Well, High Altitude Jet Charts don’t show a lot of ‘tourist’ detail. They were looking for things to point out to the passengers. But it sort of looked strange to my friend who was not familiar with flying!

End of article written by Robert Roll, 2008.

Personal history written by TJ Henley

TJ Henley’s personal story of her experiences as an air traffic controller in Alaska

November 3, 2007

Many excuses are made as to why one person leaves another person. Usually, the leaving is done at ground level. One person decides he/she no longer wants to be married to another person, and the decision is made for one or the other to depart the fix. However, when a man is flying an airplane and his air traffic controller decides to “leave him” because of “standard operating procedure” the decision can cause dire effects. Thus begins the story of Jack.

If any readers of this story know anything about Kodiak, Alaska, they will understand what TJ (I write in third person) writes. Kodiak is the most beautiful, gorgeous, marvelous, grandiose, maternal, interesting, loving, giving, forgiving, and fascinating place in the Universe. She was TJ’s world. Not only was she TJ’s world; but She was the world of the aviators who made Kodiak home. Unfortunately, as Mother Nature often shows just who exactly is in control, Kodiak, at times, is a callous, mean, stormy, fog-infested, and turbulent chaotic totally out of control bitch.

This story takes place during the early 70’s. At that time, there were no RCO’s that worked properly. The communication resource between the airplanes flying from Point A (being Anchorage – ANC) to Point B (being Kodiak – ADQ) was Anchorage Center (ZAN) and Kodiak Tower. The FAA can try and substantiate all day and all night long about how much advanced the air traffic system is today. The days of HF radios were the days when the FAA shined its brightest. Trust me, deterioration because of technology is the main factor in problems in the air traffic control system. No amount of money or technology can take the place of the emotional relationship between a controller and a pilot.

Let TJ diverse a bit. TJ has a habit of wandering along a particular airway often not on an assigned heading. Besides, there is only one way to get to know TJ and that is for her to explain to the readers this very strange creature—TJ. If the opportunity presents, she will relate the story of how she became a tower controller in the first place. Suffice to say, pilots and only pilots taught TJ to talk to airplanes. Of course, according to one of many of TJ’s theories, in order to be an air traffic controller, the controller has to have the gut instinct and dedication to do the job. Money doesn’t matter only the profession matters. A controller’s job is to assist a pilot on a flight from one point to another point in the safest, most expeditious, and most comfortable manner possible. If the pilot’s ass arrives at his point of destination in one piece usually the passengers, airplane, and freight also arrive in one piece. Now, as the passengers depart from the airplane they may all line up for the nearest bar where each can get the strongest drink possible (even Mormons), but at least their asses are in one piece.

Jack, dear, dear Jack had piercing eyes. TJ has talked to lots and lots of airplanes and had personal and professional relationships with lots and lots of pilots, but Jack’s eyes could literally put the fear of God (if TJ believed in whatever God people believe in; she, however, believes in Alaska) into their souls. When Jack looked into a person’s eyes he literally looked into that person’s deepest being.

The night was stormy. The time of year was spring. The weather included a low ceiling and below minimum visibility. The wind shear was formidable. The turbulence was beyond belief. The icing was heavy, wet, and thick. Jack was flying from ANC to ADQ. He departed ANC after dark but about an hour and 20 minutes before the Kodiak tower closed at 10 p.m. After leaving Homer (HOM), he was able to communicate via radio with TJ in the tower or with ANC Center. At a particular altitude he lost communication with ANC Center. He was basically on his own unless TJ stayed in that tower waiting for him.

Jack called about 20 miles north of Kodiak. TJ had an inbound strip on him and his ETA was going to be close. Really close. She gave Jack the weather and the wind and altimeter information. He said, “Roger.”

Now TJ knew (after all she has the gut instinct of an air traffic controller) that Jack is thinking TJ is going to stay there until I get this flying piece of shit on the ground at Kodiak. Unfortunately, TJ’s personality and dedication to duty to her pilots had caused a particular difficulty the week before.

Another airway, another diversion. The Chief (in this day and age these people are now called Air Traffic Managers) was a complete and total asshole. He was from a South 48 state whose philosophy was that there were two places for women: the kitchen and the bedroom. Unfortunately, TJ wasn’t, isn’t, and will never be good in either location. So this jerk arrives and, of course, as soon as he plods up the stairs to the tower from the Administration Office at the base of the tower, he takes one look at TJ and she can see in his eyes his every thought—son of a bitch I’ve met the devil and she is a woman and worse a red head. TJ was an Alaska Regional golden child. She was a local hire, married to a local pilot, whose father was a professional Alaska pilot, and whose brother was a professional Alaska pilot, and had lived most of her life on Kodiak Island, and had been trained by all those Kodiak pilots. TJ could see in his eyes that there was nothing he could to do except make her life as miserable as possible without pissing her off to the point where she put his ass into a crab pot.

So, the week before the Jack incident, a C130 was due to arrive ADQ just after 10 p.m. TJ decided to wait for the airplane to land before turning the facility over to Kenai AFSS (which could no more communicate with a pilot from Kodiak than TJ could lose 100 pounds in a week.) The Chief lived across the street (directly) from the tower so he kept an eye on every move by the air traffic controllers. He knew what time they arrived and what time they left, etc.

The next morning, the Chief meanders up the stairs and informs TJ of about 100 different FAR’s and FAA regulations she had broken because she didn’t transfer the facility over at the appropriate time. TJ flat couldn’t believe the tirade. He then told her that “It better not happen again.” OK. Wrong!!!!!!!!!! The worse thing an outsider can do is deliberately piss of an old time Kodiak girl who was raised on a ranch. I was his worse nightmare.

Jack is continuing inbound; TJ gives him the latest weather that is beyond shit on a shingle. He was fighting weather, turbulence, deteriorating conditions, and icing—and he didn’t have minimums. However, she knew he couldn’t make a missed approach. He was committed. That is what pilots did without fancy modern technological equipment. Even with instruments, pilots flew by the seat of their pants. They committed to a flight and completed the flight come hell, high water, or Kodiak weather.

Unfortunately, TJ blames most of this on her upbringing, when someone in authority tells her to do something she does that something. So, she turned the runway lights on step 5, turned on the strobe lights, broadcast in the blind that the tower was closing, and closed the tower. She didn’t hear from Jack so she knew he was on another frequency.

TJ left the tower. She knew she shouldn’t have left that man out there in that horrid, shitty Kodiak weather…but that is exactly what she did. While driving home, she passed the approach end of Runway 7 and looked east. She could barely see the strobe lights 7,500 feet away. She knew she needed to turn around, go back, take the frequency, and do what she could to get Jack on the ground. But, no she couldn’t do that. After all some jackass jerk from Texas had told her that her job was on the line. So, she went home, fretting and worrying at every tire rotation. Disheartened and disillusioned she arrived home, climbed out of the car, climbed up the stairs to the house, undressed, and got ready to climb into bed.

Then the telephone rang. TJ answered, “Hello.” This voice said, “I have a drink waiting for you at Solly’s.” She said, “OK, Jack, I’ll be there in a minute. She got dressed again—thinking shit Valium is the most important drug needed at the moment. TJ drove to Solly’s. By the way, if you haven’t been to Kodiak since 1980, Solly’s was a drinking hotspot. She arrived, parked her car, walked in the door and there sitting at a table is a man with piercing eyes, his arms crossed on the table with a drink before him and across the table was TJ’s drink. He looked at his controller. She sat down.

He looked at TJ for a long time. She didn’t say a word. She just sat there and waited for this pilot, this man whom she respected and trusted and adored to give her whatever hell he was going to give her. He said six words. “Patricia, why did you leave me?” She would have rather been pole axed. She just looked at this man. What was she supposed to say, what excuse was she supposed to come up with? That according to some ridiculous procedure implemented by some imbecilic idiot in a place 6,000 miles from Kodiak and forced down her throat by some bottom-dwelling idiot from Texas who couldn’t talk to an airplane if his stupid life depended on it, TJ was supposed to follow the instructions? Jack knew her better than that. He knew this tough little broad sitting across the table from him. He knew there was nothing she couldn’t do once she made up her mind to do it. And he knew that only Alaska could within Herself make her do something she didn’t want to do. So, she took the only way out she could think of. She looked into those piercing eyes and asked, “Because of stupidly?” He said, “You ever going leave another flying pilot including me.” She said, “No.” He said, “Lets dance.”

TJ never left another flying pilot. She turned off a lot of recorders and used a lot of telephone lines after operation hours. She talked dozens of weather forecasters into giving minimums for special VFR conditions, she logged off a position at the legal moment and then continued briefing for 30 minutes, if she had a pilot in route from Dutch Harbor (DUT) to Cold Bay (CDB) she talked to him the entire way with the sweet (TJ has a sweet voice) every three minutes and told him that if she didn’t hear from him within the assigned three minutes that she was sending out Search and Rescue. Those pilots never missed that three-minute time limit. They knew that TJ didn’t follow the SOP and whatever ridiculous FAA rule and/or regulation created by a group of Washington DC idiots—TJ did the job her way—the Alaska pilot’s way. With the help, assistance, understanding, intelligence, and dedication of an insurmountable number of Alaska pilots TJ learned to talk to airplanes and never, ever left one flying alone in the darkest part of an Alaska storm with only her as a communicative outlet.

************

Jack didn’t make it. Sometime after the above story, he departed out of CDV and hit a mountain. But, he taught TJ the most valuable lesson of an air traffic controller. She will forever be grateful for his insightfulness and his forgiveness. He with just six little words gave her the opportunity to grow up, develop her technique, and not give a rat’s ass how the job was done in the South 48. In Alaska, pilots fly airplanes. Flying airplanes is their job. Our job is to give them the best chance to successfully complete that flight—with ass intact. Even if the job is accomplished for free and even if the envelope is pushed far beyond the acceptable.

TJ Henley

Personal history written by Jim Brown

This is Jim Brown’s personal story of his work experiences, part 2 of 2

I suppose that the CS/T combination worked well, I found it did, but there came a time when the concept shifted to separate facilities. I think I was in one of the last to decombine.

This happened at the Ontario CS/T at (naturally) Ontario Airport. I was a Watch Supervisory there. The building was adjacent to the terminal parking area with the station on the ground floor and the tower cab (naturally) was on the top floor. (I hope to send a photo in a separate mailing). Both the tower and station were 24 hour operations. The tower had a teletype printer for the weather service circuit, necessary as the tower took some of the weather observations, sky, visibility, obstructions, etc and entered them in for automatic weather transmission. That added the temperatures, wind and altimeter from an automatic readout system using on field sensors.

The station had air/ground positions (two I seem to recall). Both service A and service B teletypes, and several flight briefing positions. These were necessary because the Ontario station was a “hub” for several small airports, municipal and private in the area. Off the top of my head I recall, Cable, Brackett, Chino, Corona, Riverside, Rialto, and Tri-City. All of these were connected by direct interphone to the Ontario station, and at times pilots were lined up to use them. For most of the daylight hours, this was the case. Ontario needed several copies of all weather reports and the forecasts so they could do multi-briefings. We had not done much briefing in Hawaii and this was my introduction into just how hectic it could get. The pilots were mostly private, although several charter operators also used these briefings. When I went there, I had to check out in all positions including the briefer position. The old timers there had a lot of fun watching me merrily go down the tubes! I finally got the hang of it, became acquainted with the regulars and actually had a good time with this operation. There was very little face to face briefing.

The complement varied with workload conditions, but it was often very crowded in this room. Just beyond the wall was an elevator and stairs leading upward. I cannot recall if there was a restroom at the station level, but there was one on the floor beneath the tower cab. On the way up was an office for the facility Chief, an equipment room, a training room and ready room (which may have been combined). The restroom facilities were the end of the line for the elevator. Having reached this level, one had to open a door onto the metal catwalk that ran around the building. On the third side (the westerly side) of this catwalk was another door leading into the tower cab. Once inside, there was a short flight of steps to the floor of the tower cab. The tower had the usual local control, ground control and flight data positions. It seems to me there was one extra position that could handle some station operations on an overflow basis. It was one busy station.

The airport was not very busy in those days. There was a small terminal and some airline operations. I recall Western Airlines as being the dominant carrier and I believe Air West had flights as well as some small charter aircraft. There was a large Lockheed plant on the airport, involved in refurbishing C-130s. Another major operation was the Air National Guard. They had a good size base on the opposite (south) side of the field from the tower. When I went there the aircraft were F-86 fighters. These were later replaced by the F-102. This guard operation was a part of NORAD and did actually get an occasional live scramble call. Usually it was one practice scramble in the morning and another in the afternoon. But on Saturday, all the pilots came out and the air was full of National Guard jets. It made for some interesting traffic situations.

Another interesting operation was the alternate airport. Ontario was the prime alternate for Los Angles. When the fog put LAX below minima, all the airlines came to ONT (at 900 feet it was above most of the fog) At times we handled over 100 LAX flights. The terminal did not have space, they could only unload a few at a time. Airlines sent buses to carry the passengers to Los Angeles, but a few had to use the local hotels. In order to handle this organized mess, we closed the cross runway and parked planes there. We also used all the side areas along the main runway and the National Guard ramp. Flights would be instructed to follow an airport truck to one of the open spaces and then wait until their turn came up in the terminal rotation. Often the small restaurant ran out of food and the bar ran out of alcohol. The next morning brought the exodus. Most aircraft would just ferry over to LAX. A few would have passengers bussed in and load up at Ontario for their scheduled destination.

Ontario CS/T could be a challenging operation! Because of the situation, vacancies were filled with station option personnel looking to move into towers. They would check out in the FSS and then start tower training. Alas, due to the complexity in the tower, there was (I think) a rather high wash out factor. This gives you probably more background than is necessary, but I seldom know when to stop.

That brings us up to the actual decombination of the facility. At the time we combined the Maui operation, the CS/T operation made complete sense. But, I suppose that like many good ideas it outgrew itself. By the time we did this in Ontario, both station and tower were probably too busy to be efficient and to make the best use of personnel. With the journeymen specialists we tried to alternate between the top and bottom, four hours of FSS and four hours of Tower. But sometime we had to go 2-2-2-2. With rotating people into tower training, it could mean a lot of elevator time. It had its ups and downs. Then in late 1967 or early 1968, along came the man for the decombining hour – Nick Lambas. Nick transferred to Ontario after several years in the Pacific Region. Back in 1956 or 1957, Congress passed PL737, which applied to all overseas positions. For all I know, it may still be in effect. In effect it meant if you had spent two years overseas and wanted to sign a two year contract, they would give you and your family a trip back to your transfer point on the mainland. If you declined to sign, you could ask for a return to your previous facility or another mainland position. (I had two real great vacations to St. Louis from this law). Nick Lambas had been in the Pacific and his last assignment had been the combined Center/Tower on Wake Island. He then asked for return and was offered a spot at the Ontario CS/T. He had previous FSS experience and checked out in that option fairly soon. He then started tower checkout. Now, Nick had a partial disability from WWII, something about his legs or feet. Even with the elevator, there were some steps to climb and he found it difficult. Having purchased a home (not far from me) he asked if he could remain at Ontario and work only FSS. I believe he had some backing from the VA for this. It may have been just what the Region was looking for, they approved and said that all future vacancies, that were not essential to tower staffing, would be staffed with the station option, looking forward to the time there would be two separate staffs. The station personnel would be GS10 and the tower remained at the GS11 status. (I suppose Nick would have had a reduction, but he probably was given a GS10 step that did not affect his wallet.

Just north of the tower was a small building that housed the MTIC, and equipment workroom and the FSDO. There were plans to enlarge this and with the separation of tower and station, they included a new FSS with all of its own facilities, including an office for their Chief. One interesting thing, when the complements were set, but before the station moved into the new building, the supervisors still had both areas. Everyone else could stay, but we continued up and down, spending time in both areas, and usually remaining in one if the action was high volume there.

So eventually the station had its own chief, moved the entire operation, leaving an empty room at the base of the tower. According to my personnel record, my status changed from ATCS General to ATCS Tower on December 15, 1968.

Jim Brown retired January 1, 1983 after 36 years of service.

End of article by Jim Brown

Part 1 – Interstate Airway Communication Stations (INSACS)

Personal history written by Jim Brown, 2007

This is Jim Brown’s personal story of his work experiences

On February 6, 1947, I was appointed to the position of Associate Aircraft Communicator, CAF-6, in the Pacific Region of the Civil Aeronautics Authority (CAA). I was assigned to Honolulu, but detailed to the INSACS at Puunene, Maui, Hawaii. The assignment was “temporary, pending establishment of register” (which took three years) at the salary of $3021.00 + 25% Cost of Living differential. The Interstate Airway Communication Stations (INSACS) had been operating for about two years, as far as I can recall. The first Chief, Carl Gustafson was still there. The staff included Noble and Elizabeth Laesch, who had transferred from Anchorage, Alaska. They were one of the husband and wife teams hired during WWII for duty in the remote stations of Alaska. However, they had remained at the not too remote site of Anchorage for their entire time in that region. Also on the staff were Charles “Shorty” Dawson and Charles R. Smith.  When qualified, I was to replace Mr. Smith, who had been promoted to the OFACS in Honolulu.

At that time there were three INSACS, Lihue, Kauai (LIH), Puunene, Maui (MAU) and Hilo, Hawaii (ITO). There was an OFACS in Honolulu, Oahu (HNL). These were also the identifiers for the associated four course radio ranges. Maui operated on 209kc, the only one I remember.  This seems like short staffing.  It allowed for one Aircraft Communicator (ACCOM) on each of the three shifts, with a “swing shift” ACCOM for two midnight shifts, two evenings and one day. The Chief Aircraft Communicator (CACOM) was available for assistance on the day watch. If any one took annual leave, a relief was sent from Honolulu. The workload was usually not so heavy and one person could handle it.

Shortly after my arrival, CACOM Gustafson was transferred to the same position on the island of Palmyra (located 960 miles Southwest of Honolulu and a Naval Air Station during WWII). The CAA had a station there and also one on Canton Island, Micronesia.  An interesting detail about Palmyra. It was owned by the Kanehele family of Oahu and leased to the CAA. Eventually it would return to the Kaneheles. Danny Kanehele, who would become the head of the family, was a controller in Honolulu Tower. There were plans to develop the island as a tourist attraction, but during my time it had not happened.

With the departure of CACOM Gustafson, Noble Laesch was promoted to Chief and the vacancy that this caused was filled by Elvin E. Smith, transferred from Battle Mountain, Nevada. From that time, as the workload increased, so did the staffing. I do not recall how many were on the roster when the INSACS was relocated and combined with Kahului Tower on December 12, 1958.  Much more about that as we go down memory lane.

Those four radio ranges were aligned so as to form the low frequency airways. The most common was R87, used for the majority of inter-island flights. It ran northeast from Kaui and southeast to Hawaii. I also recall the north leg of the Maui range was designated A11. The others I no longer recall. Of course, as time went on and very high frequency (VHF) communications became the norm, these Radio Beacons were replaced by VHF omni-directional radio range (VORs) and VHF airways. When that occurred, additional VORs were established on Lanai (LNY) and Upolu Point (UPP) on the northern tip of the island of Hawaii. Both of these were controlled by Maui INSACS, which then broadcast as “Maui Area Radio”.

Back to my own personal experience, which gives an insight into the INSACS way of life in those days. After arriving for duty at the Maui INSACS, I underwent on-the-job training (OJT), but as there was no OKC in those days, it was necessary to qualify by self study. I (and I suppose all others in those days) had to study and pass exams in meteorology, air navigation, Federal Air Regulations, and I do believe there was one other. Perhaps some one else has that in their brain bank. Before the appointment I was required to qualify in Continuous Wave (CW) (the speed of 30 seems to stick in my mind) and typing (was it 55?).   We were given speed tests for sending and receiving in Morse code, and also tested on typing speed on the teletype machine.  Later teletype speed and Baudot perforated tape reading were included. That was a tough one for me!  We were examined on these speeds at yearly intervals, usually by someone from the Regional Office. The Baudot tape was cut on the teletype keyboard and transmitted at continuous high speed, usually faster than a employee could type. All island INSACS were connected by the CW, and later teletype networks.  When all the requirements were met, I was promoted to Aircraft Communicator, CAF-7, on September 7, 1947. The recommendation was to make this retroactive to August 6, which would have been the required six months, but the ever frugal Region decided to use the September date. Just think how much I lost due to the slow wheels in Honolulu! This salary was $3164, plus 25 % Cost of Living benefit.

On August 24, 1956, we were all promoted to GS-8, which meant a salary of $5335 + 25%.  I think all the INSACS went up in grade at that time. In 1958 the INSACS was combined with the Kahului Tower and on June 28, 1959 I was promoted to GS-9, and on November 12, 1961 with approach control being added, the grade went to GS-10. One interesting and little known fact about that 25% COL. I cannot say just when, sometime in the late 1940s, a man in one of the financial offices of the RO in Honolulu did some research and came to the conclusion that taxing this differential was not legal. He submitted this to the IRS, and you can imagine the result. However, he persisted and obtained signatures and a small donation from many of us which would be used to find a law suit. He also advised us to file for refunds on taxes paid during the past three years. I recall going to the IRS office to obtain the forms. I knew the agent in charge, and he said this had no chance, I said “just give me the forms, and it will benefit you also”. He was still laughing as I went out the door. For reasons unknown to us, but very beneficial, the government agreed to skip local filing and appeals and to hear the case in Federal Court in Washington. Our attorney agreed, but one day before the case was to be heard, the IRS threw in the towel and ceded the judgment. All employees benefited, and those of us who had filed for refunds, received the three year overpayments, with interest! Shortly after this Federal employees in places such as Guam and Wake were changed to a “Post Differential” which was declared taxable. So, all Federal Employees who draw, or have drawn the COLA should be grateful to one persistent CAA worker in Honolulu. Now, as Paul Harvey would say, you know the rest of the story.

This document will be rather rambling; there are so many facets of those days to report.  Back to the old radio ranges.  Before they were installed, air navigation was by light beacons (and before that by bonfires, let us not go that far back) In Hawaii these light beacons were aligned to provide an airway the same as that R87. To obtain the proper sighting, on Maui this meant a light beacon at Makena, just beyond what is now the Maui Prince hotel. The property was leased from the Delima family, who had been farming the land and grazing cattle there. Abner Delima was hired to mow the grass, keep the cattle away, maintain the power generator and in the beginning turn the light on and off. The radio range was installed in the same area, and Abner continued to maintain the power supply and the surrounding area. Sometime later he was given some electronics training and after the combined Flight Service Station and Tower (CS/T) was established he went to the teletype maintenance course in Okalahoma City, Oklahoma, and returned to take over that responsibility.

Unlike the other locations, Maui’s range was a long distance from the airport. I believe it would be somewhere in the range of 20 miles. A good portion of the road was unpaved, winding, and subject to flooding during heavy rains. It was impossible to have a maintenance technician (in those days they were called Maintenance Technician In Charge – MTIC) live in the local housing areas and drive back and forth. So, the CAA built a great, three bedroom house near the range. The MTIC lived there and often took work from the INSACS home to his workshop there.  When the control tower was established at Kahului and the Terminal VOR (TVOR) placed there, the electronic technician compliment was increased, and an office and workshop added to the INSACS building, which I forgot to mention, was attached to the baggage claim area of the terminal building. With these changes, the technicians all resided near the airports and the Makena house was surplus. Faced with this fact, the CAA moved it onto a barge and shipped it around to a location where they could sell it. And I am not sure where that house finally did land.

In the beginning, our INSACS was connected to the rest of the stations by radio teletype. This was fairly new and subject to many outages. Originally it was to be backed up by a CW network, but, things were not working out for that system and the CW net was designated the primary communications link.  The teletype, when it worked, became the back up and this configuration lasted for quite a while. Therefore, we had a CW position at the station, and all weather reports, forecasts, flight plans and progress reports as well as administrative messages were handled by this communicator. We also had an air ground, or broadcast position, this is the one that made the familiar 15 and 45 past the hour broadcasts of the island weather.

There was not a great deal of local flying, so the air ground was mostly involved in passing (in the absence of a tower) wind, altimeter, and known traffic to the inbound and departing Hawaiian Airlines flights.  They flew DC-3s in those days.  Whoever was not busy at the time became the weather observer, and on many shifts that was the primary duty. Despite what the various chambers of commerce may say, there are times when heavy rains and storms hit Hawaii. Many times I stood outside with the rain running down the clinometer (determines cloud height) and into my eye as I attempted to get a reading on the ceiling light! I must admit there were times during the dark hours, when the ceiling was estimated from inside the INSACS.

With the advent of the Korean conflict, air traffic in and out of Hawaii suddenly increased. There were many aircraft, mostly from non-scheduled airlines, that were chartered by the government for transportation of personnel and cargo. They would fly from the west coast to Honolulu, refuel and then continue to Wake Island and eventually to Japan. There was also a good deal of traffic flying this route in reverse. Since there were no direct En Route Center/pilot communications in those days, all position reports and clearances were relayed through the appropriate INSACS. It was soon necessary to schedule two and sometimes three communicators on the day and evening shifts. Inter-island traffic also increased with the arrival of Aloha Airlines, only then they were called Trans Pacific Airlines and I think that even today they use TPA as an identifier. Originally non-scheduled air carriers, operating under a different part of the Federal Aviation Regulations – FARs (I think it was part 125) operated almost the same as a scheduled air carrier and eventually were granted that status. An increase was also on the way for general aviation aircraft and for charter flights. But in 1950 (I think) the Navy gave up the Kahului facility and the Territory began the process of obtaining it from the Navy. It took quite a while. The Navy had given them Puunene easily, but this was different. Even before the final release, the Territory was allowed to use certain facilities at the base and we (CAA) were one of the first beneficiaries.

The Navy had some excellent enlisted family quarters, one to three bed room units in blocks of four to eight, and they were administered by the Hawaii Housing Authority. As Federal employees we were the first to move in and these continued to be available to new personnel. The units were fine and the rent very reasonable.  Finally the Territory did get an additional permit and the airlines began to use Kahului. Better facilities and it was closer to the towns. The first FAA facility was a control tower, using the old, somewhat beat up, Navy tower on top of the operations building. In 1957, with full transfer from the Navy to the Territory, the FAA began work on a new building to house the station and the tower creating a CS/T, similar to the one operating in Hilo. In 1958 the facility was commissioned. It was a given that the Tower Chief would be the Chief of the CS/T. Noble Laesch went on a detail and was then transferred to Washington. I became the Acting Chief of the INSACS and was involved in the planning and the move. The fiscally watchful Regional Office was not going to promote me and then let me keep the GS-10 salary when I went into the CS/T as a GS-9!

One last bit of trivia. I was in on the combining of a station and tower. Later, I believe 1969, I was a watch supervisor in the Ontario CS/T when it was de-combined! I remained in the tower until 1971 when I transferred to the San Diego area and finally retired in 1983 as an air traffic controller (ATC) at Lindbergh Tower, San Diego. I continued in aviation, having a California teaching credential I taught air traffic control (ATC) at both Mesa and Southwestern colleges in this area, and also Aviation History at Mesa. I modestly report that several of my students were hired by the FAA.

Jim Brown retired January 1, 1983 after 36 years of service.

End of article by Jim Brown.

Part  2 – Combined Station/Tower