Dreams Take Flight - More Highlights from Ralph’s Flying Experiences

An Aeronca 7AC Champ

This is a continuation of stories about Ralph’s flying experiences. Read previous, related posts here, and here.

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Fast forward about 10 years. Now as a young father living in Wilmington, California, with his sweetheart Ella and twin babies, Ralph was working two or three jobs to support the family. At the time, one of those jobs was was working for a fellow in their church congregation selling dog licenses door to door.

While working one day in Hermosa Beach, California, he knocked on the door of a United Airlines pilot and they got talking about flying. Ralph thought, “Wow! That would be fun.”

So I agonized over it for a day or two and talked to [Ella] and said, I think I’d really like to learn how to fly, and she said, “Well, why don’t you do it? That will be your college.” I didn’t finish college, so whatever money we spent on my flight training, that would be my college education. Ok!

First Entry in the Logbook

Ralph began his basic flight training at age 23.

This is pilot logbook number one. So my first lesson was on February 8, 1957. Familiarization ride. And there’s all my training. [Pointing to the stack of 10 logbooks in front of us.]

Coincidentally, he trained at the Torrance Airport, formerly called the Lomita Air Field, that same spot where he would watch the planes come and go as a boy during WWII.(1)

Over the next 5 months, when Ralph wasn’t working to support his family he was working toward the basic requirements of earning his private pilot license for a single engine airplane. The first part of his training was at the Torrance Airport with an instructor named Vern Young, flying in an Aeronca Champ. He later switched to train with the nearby Compton Flying Club, where he could fly for less: Airplanes rented for $4/hr versus the $7/hr at Torrance.

The requirements to earn a private pilot license in 1957 were not that different from what Ralph teaches to his students today, six decades later. That instruction included a minimum number of hours of flight training with an instructor, cross country flying (day and night), take offs and landings (T/O’s), solo flying, and passing a written exam.

There are only minor differences between then and now, such as he recalls that he needed 35 hours of flight time, rather than the required minimum of 40 today, and the cross-country requirement was less as well. Additionally, there was previously not the emphasis on instrument training (in fact, most of the airplanes didn’t even have radios at the time and only major airports had control towers).

Image Source

Going Solo

When it was time for Ralph to fly solo for the first time, he went back to an instructor at the Torrance Airport. They started out with an hour of dual flying in the Aeronca Champ (Ralph as pilot with the instructor in the back), and the instructor said, “Do a good job today and I’ll get out and let you fly.”

Ralph was quite familiar with flying out of Torrance airport, which characteristically had a crosswind. The advantage to that is the Ralph was comfortable flying with the crosswind - it didn’t bother him at all. But he learned he still had to be alert. Ralph related:

I was so used to cross winds at Torrance - I mean, it was always 15 degrees, you could count on it, the runway was runway 29, 290 degrees, I think, anyway it was almost east and west, and the wind would come around Palos Verde Hills and it was always a crosswind. It was anywhere from 10 to 15 knots, 15 degrees, off. 

So I’m going around and [the instructor] said, “Let’s do a couple touch and go’s.” So I’m coming around, this was a day there was no wind. Dead calm. I’m coming in, trying to slide the airplane down like this in the crosswind, and I’m having a hard time keeping it lined up. And he said, “What are you doing??” And I said, “I’m compensating for the crosswind.” He said, “Look at the windsock!” The thing is hanging like this [Ralph showed his arm hanging straight down]. “There’s no crosswind! Fly the airplane.” I straightened up and looked and sure enough! I made a couple of good landings and he said, “Have fun! Good luck!”

And that was on [checking his log book]...I had my first solo right there. 15 minutes, on April 15, 1957. Takeoff and landing, solo, check, ok.

The lesson that he learned that day? To fly according to the conditions you’re in. Don’t fly according to habit.

Following his first solo flight, Ralph’s shirttail was then cut off, signed by the instructor, and hung up in the flight school. This is a tradition that is still carried on today. Why? Wikipedia has this explanation:

In American aviation lore, the traditional removal of a new pilot's shirt tail is a sign of the instructor's new confidence in his student after successful completion of the first solo flight. In the days of tandem trainers, the student sat in the front seat, with the instructor behind. As there were often no radios in these early days of aviation, the instructor would tug on the student pilot's shirttail to get his attention, and then yell in his ear. A successful first solo flight is an indication that the student can fly without the instructor ("instructor-less" flight). Hence, there is no longer a need for the shirt tail, and it is cut off by the (often) proud instructor, and sometimes displayed as a trophy.(2)

However, it's likely that any pilot will tell you a different take on the folklore that Wikipedia hasn’t documented yet: It’s because flying solo “scares the *&%$ out of you.”

License in Hand and First Passenger

Five months after his first flying lesson, this is the entry in his log book:

July 18, 1957, go for checkride, private pilot, flight exam and return with private license.

And now for his first passenger:

Then my first ride right after that when I got my license, that’s where I took [Ella] up in the Luscombe, and that was [chuckling]...[her] first time flying and my very first passenger after I got my license. Same day.

A 1946 Luscombe Silvaire

So she got in the airplane with me, and it was this old...1946 model Luscombe. And the windshield was plastic, and it had been sunbaked in the summer, so this was summer, July 18, and I’m coming around on final approach and I turn westbound into Compton Airport, and as soon as I turned westbound, the sun hit that sunbaked windshield and it turned opaque. Just all white.

And I said, “Oh gee, I can’t see the runway.” I’m trying to look through this silvered windshield and around the side and everything, and I made BOOM, a hard landing. It didn’t bounce but it just hit hard. And I thought, “Oh, she’ll never ride with me again.” Do you know what she said? “I’ve seen you do better. Let’s go around and do it again.”

And so they did. “And it was so smooth!”

……….

From interviews with Ralph and Ella recorded at their home, on 9 February 2014 and 10 July 2016, with additional details shared over the phone on 29 April 2018.

Notes & Sources:

1. As a young boy living in Lomita, California, in the early 1940s (during WWII), one of Ralph’s favorite activities was lying on the grass in his front yard and watch the Lockheed P-38 airplanes fly overhead as they would take their final approach to the nearby Lomita Air Field. Read more about it in this blog post: http://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2018/04/trailing-clouds-of-glory-highlights.html.
2. Read more about requirements for solo flights here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/First_solo_flight

See Also:

• Trailing Clouds of Glory - Highlights from Ralph’s Flying Experiences: http://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2018/04/trailing-clouds-of-glory-highlights.html
• The Sky's the Limit!: http://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2014/05/they-skys-limit.html

No Longer Unmarked - The Beatties’ Final Resting Place

In Loving Memory
(Photo taken by the mason)

Almost a year after finding the unmarked grave of Ella’s maternal grandparents, John McDonald Beattie (1860-1936) and Ursilla (pronounced “Yer-SILL-a”) Katherine Bruce Beattie (1862-1937), in Aberdeen, Scotland, we received word from the mason last week that we finally have a gravestone in place. Hooray!

This grave had been unmarked for over 80 years, and through this blog, we became acquainted with our dear cousins in New Zealand (in 2015), who introduced us to other dear cousins in Aberdeen (in 2017), who happened to have the original receipts that proved our family’s ownership of the plot.

While visiting Aberdeen last May, we found the plot through the help of a couple gravediggers who were referencing tattered maps that were stored in a drawer in a small, unmanned cemetery office (there were no digital maps or maps posted in the cemetery itself). We had to get additional approvals from Aberdeen City to move ahead. I received quotes from multiple masons, vetted them based on recommendations from local cousins, the local genealogical society, and the bereavement/burials division of Aberdeen City.

Until We Meet Again
(Photo taken by the mason)

John McDonald Beattie with wife
Ursilla Katherine Bruce Beattie

There would be stretches of time in the past year where I wasn't sure how exactly this process would play out, so I would focus instead on taking a little step each day: Consult family members for their feedback on the research; talk to a mason local to me to get their perspective on this project; consult a professional genealogist about inscriptions that are meaningful and helpful; reach out to genealogical societies for advice; converse with friends about the status of the project and get their take as well.

As we would forge ahead on this project, I would sometimes get overwhelmed, wanting to make sure that everything was perfect and done correctly, feeling at a disadvantage trying to manage this from the other side of the world, feeling regret that the grave has been unmarked for 80+ years. But I took comfort in something that a local Bay Area mason told me: There has never been a better time to tackle a project like this. When we look at how easily we can communicate over email, Skype, send digital photos back and forth, research and fact-check with historical documents online in searchable databases, connect virtually with cousins - so much of this wasn't as easy even 5 years ago. Now was the right time.

This stone is intended to be a Rosetta stone of sorts, not just including the names and birth and death dates of John and Ursilla, but also the names of their parents, their marriage date, and their only child’s name. We want future generations to come back to this spot, and to realize exactly how their ancestors fit into the family tree.

And this stone will act as a testament that John and Ursilla’s lives mattered and that their memory lives on - despite their poverty (an orphaned iron worker and a domestic servant/dressmaker), their handicaps (they were both deaf since childhood), and their initially small posterity (they had only 1 child, who then had just 2 children. But the generations have really grown since then.)

A huge THANK YOU to all the family members who collaborated on this project - through sharing ideas as well as financial contributions. It's been quite the journey over the past year, working together to see this to completion.

One of my favorite parts of the stone is the final line, "Until We Meet Again." Indeed, if we believe in an after life, then until we meet the Beatties again, and until we meet with each other again in this life. It represents such hope and love.

.…..….

See also:

1. John McDonald and Ursilla Katherine Bruce Beattie - Final Resting Spot: https://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2017/05/john-mcdonald-and-ursilla-katherine.html
2. John McDonald Beattie (1860-1936) - According to His Daughter, Kate: http://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2018/04/john-mcdonald-beattie-according-to-his.html
3. Meet Ursilla Katherine Bruce Beattie (1862-1937): https://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2017/02/meet-ursilla-katherine-bruce-beattie.html
4. Williamina/Wilhilmina/Wilhelmina - A Rose by Any Other Name...: https://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/search/label/Wilhilmina%20Inkster%20%281835-1896%29

Trailing Clouds of Glory - Highlights from Ralph’s Flying Experiences

A 1946 Luscombe 8 Silvaire

As mentioned in a previous blog post (1), sometimes it seems as though Ralph was truly born “trailing clouds of glory” (2), that he came down to earth and into his mother's arms via a helicopter rather than a stork. Hah! After all, many of the professions he’s had have been related to flying in some way.

But where did his interest in flying first begin and then grow into a lifelong passion, filling up 10 flight logbooks with 10,000-12,000 hours over the past 60 years? 

As an answer to that question, Ralph has shared the following experiences with us.(3) This is how the story begins...

An Aeronca 7AC Champ, the same type of plane
that Ralph would eventually teach
his own students in.

Beginnings

As a young boy living in Lomita, California, in the early 1940s, one of Ralph’s favorite activities was lying on the grass in his front yard and watching the planes fly overhead. The army airfield in Torrance was close by (then called the Lomita Air Field)(4) and was used for training during WWII, so there was no shortage of this airborne spectacle of Lockheed P-38 Lightning pilots flying over their house on their final approach. Ralph traces his initial interest in flying to this time. 

Later, now 12 years old and living in Mesa, Arizona, in 1946, Ralph loved to ride his bike to the Mesa Airport that was just a half mile from his family’s farm.(5) There, he would sit and watch the airplanes coming and going. 

Mesa Airport (along with the nearby and
similarly named Mesa Airpark) (Image Source)

This was one of two airfields in Mesa at the time, but this one was unique: It was started by two local veterans soon after World War II, and it was located at the site of a former city dump. The junk had been hauled away, the ground leveled and packed down, but the runway was left unpaved.

The two veterans-turned-flight-school owners were teaching flying in four small, fixed-wing airplanes: An Aeronca 7AC Champ, an Ercoupe, a Luscombe 8 Silvaire, and a Taylorcraft.

One day while Ralph was watching the planes on the sidelines, one of the owners, Owen Straddling, came up to him and said, “Hey kid, want a ride?” Yeah! Of course he did! “Pick up a tub of glass off of the airport and we’ll take you for a ride.” This runway was previously a city dump and was littered with broken glass and sharp corners that were cutting the tires of the airplanes. So he said, “Go pick up a tub of glass.”

Ralph recalls:

So I ran home and got one of Mom’s washtubs, set it down, and I got a coffee can and a screwdriver, and I was dodging airplanes! I’d run out, dig up pieces of glass, fill up the can, go dump it. And then when the tub got full, he said, “Ok! Let’s go!”

An Ercoupe

He continues: 

Owen Stradling took us [Ralph and his cousin, Don Johnson] up [in the Taylorcraft] and we were strapped in the seat together beside him. And I think now, how did we get in? We were just 12 years old at the time, just young kids. So we sat there and he flew us around Mesa and we came back in and I said, “Man! That’s for me. I’ve got to figure out how to do it.” And I asked him, “Can I pick up another tub of glass?” And he said, “Yeah, knock yourself out.” So I got a ride in the Ercoupe, the Aeronca, and the Luscombe by picking up glass on the airport.

And so it begins!

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Notes and Sources: 

1. Blog post featuring an article by Cathy Free of the Deseret News, detailing some of Ralph's flying experiences: https://greatflyingscots.blogspot.com/2014/05/they-skys-limit.html.
2. An allusion to the poem Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by William Wordsworth (1770-1850), which can be read online here: https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/ode-intimations-immortality-recollections-early-childhood.
3. From an interview with Ralph and Ella on 9 February 2014, recorded at their home.
4. The Lomita Flight strip in Torrance, California, was completed in March 1943 and was used by the United States Army during WWII and was used as an emergency landing field for training flights. It was closed for that purpose after the war, and it was later renamed Zamperini Field on 7 December 1941. More information here (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zamperini_Field) and here (http://www.militarymuseum.org/Lomita.html).
5. More info about the Mesa Airport (not to be confused with the Mesa Airpark), here: http://www.airfields-freeman.com/AZ/Airfields_AZ_Phoenix_NE.htm