Afternoon in America

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(My cousin James Burr flew this model B-47 for the Strategic Air Command. He was the youngest Command Pilot in SAC and was killed flying one in the line of duty. Under the imposing nose is a Spirit (right) and a Javelin. All photos Socotra).

The Panzer worked flawlessly across a couple thousand miles. It is a nice ride, and I was happy not to be watching a set of forty-year-old instruments as I rolled over Maryland and Pennsylvania and Ohio and Michigan and Indiana. I was saturated with satellite media on the Interstates and the Blue highways of the Great Heartland, and I had to marvel at the manifold follies of the wide world..

I have been staying away from things political over the last couple months- there is no point. The government doesn’t function in any manner I understand, so with that, any insight I might have gathered over the last four decades is either erroneous or irrelevant.

I was refreshed by the view of America- the real one- up close and at the middle distance. I wrote about Circus City- Peru, Indiana- and the wonderfully open people there. If you add the casual optimism of the American Motors Folks in with that, you could convince yourself that it is indeed Morning in America someplace.

I would never vote against this side of our national experience: good people with worthy, hard working hobbies.

I pulled into the Grissom Air Museum shortly before eleven; it had been nearly four hours from the Detroit suburbs, and the weather exactly matched the mood: fog, burning away to brilliant sunshine. I was overdressed- it had been a cool summer back in Arlington, Detroit was tepid, Indiana was hot. The sun beat down on the air park and I felt myself slipping away.

I looked around the grounds and there were classic AMC products spanning the 1950s, 60s and 80s neatly parked under the protective wings of warbirds. I didn’t know if the sunshine was going to hold, so I got right to work after turning some renderings that Raven did of his concept cars from 1950 over to the President of the Hoosier AMO Club, a Great American named Todd who was manning the gate.

Raven got a new AMC vehicle every year according to the terms of his contract, so it was sae to say that I had ridden in or flogged most of the cars that were there. What surprised me was that I had time in five of the museum static display aircraft, and Uncle Dick and Cousin Burr had been pilot-in-command of two more. I walked first to the F-4 Phantom:

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(This old warrior is the Air Force version of the renowned fighter. I got a ride in a VF-151 Navy F-4J off the USS Midway in 1980 and was treated to an inverted pass of Mount Fuji in Japan).
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(This TA-4 Scooter is similar to the one I got a ride in to launch a drone off Roosie Roads in Puerto Rico. What a hoot! Grissom has some great Navy aircraft, since it once was Bunker Hill Naval Air Station.)

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(B-17G Flying Fort similar to the one uncle Dick flew on D-Day over the Normandy Beaches. The sleek lines of the Ambassador sedan compliment the old warrior).
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(Going temporary duty someplace I got a lift in a C-2 Trader like this one off Midway. For old times sake, they did a “deck launch,” in which the catapult was not used to launch the aircraft. It was completely Old School: the pilot drove aft to the landing zone, turned the aircraft into the wind, stomped on the breaks, went to military power and took off in the length of the ship. Amazing.)
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(The astonishing AMC Pacer tucked up under the wing of the B-47. The bomber could probably carry four of them on pylon stations for use against Russian targets).)

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(AMC Matador under the wing of a B-25 Mitchell light bomber. Lovely specimen, both of them).

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(Javelin dressed up in AMX colors. We had a 1968 Jav as Mom’s car- both my brother and I know it could do more than 120MPH).

 

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(Todd let me pick a car for the Bill Reddig Award. I had to think hard about that- so many cools cars and so many memories. I finally selected this cherry 1968 Ambassador convertible because I got in such trouble with one. Raven’s was canary yellow and I borrowed it to drive to Groves High School before the Big Game and got the door dented in the parking lot. We lost the game, too. Not a good day for me, but a splendid day for this special car. The trunk goes on longer than a Continental.)

When the show was over, the awards were presented and Raven’s renderings were raffled off. I will have to think of something to bring to Indiana next year. Then, when the tables were put away and the trash picked up, we drove off to the Mr. Weenie in Circus City.

I had the two Kraut Dogs and split an order of deep fried macaroni and cheese with Joe. It was an intensely emotional afternoon. This is the America I remember.

I was a pretty cool country. And being with the people and their cars and the airplanes that settled so much history in the skies over so many places, I realized that it still is.

Only a thousand miles at the wheel and I could be in my own bed again, and not worry so much about the fools were up to back in Washington.

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Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303

Written by Vic Socotra

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