Things you survived, but probably shouldn't have

[PARA45]

That's called the power of pussy....

That's why I lost track of time.

 

[pilar]

I been hesitant to comment like others. Mine seem minor compared to others.
Younger days, horse spooked went left I went straight over head. Hit some really hard ground. When woke up was in ambulance. Nothing broke but concussion, bruise spine, bruised, shoulder blades.
Rolled 4wheeler in narrow ditch, layed pinned under it for over an hour trying dig my way out, using rifle I had slung on back to support weight of 4 wheeler so I could move. Loading cows in trailer, walked in behind to close center gate. Next I remember laying on gurney in hospital. Concussion, 3 missing teeth, over 100 stiches.
The worst was accident at shop when customer fumbled a bow at full draw and I took an arrow in right cheek under eye. I got lucky on that one!

I too have been reluctant to post, but have stared into the abyss a couple times
#1 insects
Bitten by a black widow spider 3 times on my forehead after she got in my hat
2 weeks in bed after the hospital

Attacked by bees and stung about 200 times trying to save my wife’s dog ( he died anyway)

West Nile virus that turned into encephalitis ( spinal tap and stint to help relieve the pressure)

Tick fever

#2 Humans conflict

Had a group of guys try dragging me off a truck to steal it down on the border

Had a gun fight with a Alzheimer’s patient who didn’t recognize me and took a shot at me and missed ( about 3 feet away) , I hit him with a rubber mallet And ran for my truck while he was on the ground, he turned my truck door into Swiss cheese, before he had to reload and I could grab my shotgun, and disarm him.

Was mugged by a armed robber in San Francisco

Besides multiple car crashes and one bush plane crash on a lake in Alaska
( overloaded and stalled and fell about 30-40 feet into the lake luckily not nose first)
I am happily sitting with my wife and dogs luckily!

 

[meigsbucks]

My experiences pale in comparison to most. When I was in college, I worked at a little neighborhood beverage store. I was putting some pop and beer a a guy’s trunk when a car tuned in off the street and knocked me into the trunk I was loading. Bruised up but no broken bones. The guy who hit me backed up and took off. They never found who hit me.
I later worker for a soft drink company back in the returnable bottle days. One of my first positions was production cleanup. One of the tasks was to dump the broken bottles in an open top cullet trailer. I’d raise the bin up with a forklift. Then climb the mast to release the latch to dump rather bins of glass. One was exceptionally full and when I pulled the lever to release the bin, the forklift rocked forward, then backwards, knocking me off. I fell about 10’, hit the cage over the top of the forklift and then fell to the ground. Walked away with only bruised ribs.
I was deer hunting public land with a friend. We came out of the woods for lunch. We were sitting on the tailgate of the pickup. All of a sudden heard some close shots and then the “buzz” of slugs passing within feet of us. We hit the ground in a heartbeat and were yelling. We never saw the “hunter”.
I was turkey hunting. I heard a guy walking behind me and I whistled to let him know I was there. Then BOOM, into the back of the tree I was leaning against. He yelled F***, realizing what he did. He came running up to se if I was OK. Although he was very apologetic, I laid into him. He said he heard my whistle and noticed part of a decoy (although it was a hen) and shot at that. Fortunately the tree was wide and I was mostly on the other side. No pellets hit me.
I had a girlfriend who wanted to learn to shoot and hunt so she could go with me. We went over gun safety. Taught her to shoot an air rifle. Then a .22. Then center fire. Got her shooting some clay targets with a shotgun. She took the state hunter safety class. As a “warm up” to deer hunting, I took her to a hunting preserve to hunt boar “hogs”. She was carrying my 7mm-08, a rifle she shot well. When the boar ran, she turned and discharged the rifle. The barrel was against my abdomen. She joked about how white I turned. Needless to say, I snatched that rifle from her and never took her hunting or shooting again.
My biggest health scare was in 2014. I started to feel some numbness, first in my fingers and then my feet. I saw my doctor who checked me out and ran some tests, but couldn’t find anything. A few days later, I fell down, like my legs just gave way. I was fine for the rest of the day. The next day at work, it happened again and later in the day again. Like an idiot, I had a couple of my staff help me out to my truck and drove home. I talked my wife out of calling 911. The next morning I couldn’t even stand. Off to the hospital. It took them several hours but they finally diagnosed me with GBS (Guillain Barre’ Syndrome). Not totally life threatening, but it put me in ICU for two weeks that included draining and replacing plasma and then two weeks of therapy just to use a walker and then four months of outpatient therapy. Took me almost two years to mostly recover and has left me with some degenerative nerve damage. The hand tremors certainly don’t help my shooting any.

 

[C.W. Richter]

Racing motorcycles (sometimes at speeds exceeding 200 MPH-LOTS of training beginning at age 6) on and off-road. Only crashed once by my own hand when following a friend/competitor too closely (enduro)...he broke right to clear a milk crate sized rock-i broke my ribs hitting that rock at ~40 MPH.

Hitting not 1 but 4 deer at night via motorcycle-ALWAYS wearing ALL safety gear. 1st @ 65 MPH on a highway (f. brake lever crushed fingers, hitting pavement broke wrists, concussion). 2nd at 35 MPH on a backroad (bike high-sided on top of me and crushed my ankle/foot). 3rd I had PTSD as a result of priors, so i cursed like a sailor and kicked it-bike a lil bashed up and hair jammed in the tire bead. 4th was similar-and that's when my kids told me to give it up after 40 years of riding and 0 lives left!

Tractors-sliding down permafrost or muddy hills @ ~35 MPH (no throttle/braking/engine braking is going to save you when it's just slipping). How the 2wd didn't flip me is a mystery. How the 4wd (in 2wd w/ a 4,000 lb implement pushing it) didn't jackknife and kill me is also a mystery. Same hill separated by 35 yrs. I will NEVER do that again. Tired, end of day, one last little area to cover-all I had to do was put it in 4wd and there would've been no issues. What saved me was lots of F and R weights, including ballasted tires on the 2wd (all mass directed to the ground.) I could've put the big disc down during the one event (and it'd been a great brake,) but I was exhausted (97F July day.)

'Was a competitive swimmer as a kid (great swimming/lifesaving skills-grew up next to a big river.) I was out in that river more than I was on land at times (according to my elders.) Went out in the rapids for some fun after a storm, when the muddy water resided....and I nearly drowned...i remember thinking-i'm a swimmer and i'm going to die right now "swimming!" It was then I learned (Divine intervention AGAIN?) you could swim out of a current by swimming at a 45 degree angle toward land, big landing rocks or a boat!

As a teen, was hunting part of an ancestral farm sold off to Dad's friends as a vaca place. I was (wearing blaze orange) stillhunting into the wind through a high blackberry patch (when the neighbor's father-80s at the time pulled the trigger on me using buckshot-they were from NJ where rifles aren't legal) luckily I just heard ALL the pellets whiz by my face-I did not become a Dick Cheneyesque victim!!! He was retired from hunting that instant. I'll leave it at that. lol now 'Have had a couple guns that went off due to brush and/or safety issues, but the muzzles were always pointing in a safe direction.

This could go on all day....blowouts at 126 MPH drag racing, gas cans blowing up in my face (when there are only drops left-ALL vapor!) Trying a quick-dry solution on a Schwinn re-paint (Dad's lighter-WOOF!) Some very hard lessons learned early on. SMH now.

Too much red meat consumption (and poss. too much acidified-as-preservative) of vino with that meat after work...a rather lg. 10 y/o carcinogenic tumor detected growing inside the lg. intestine. Dr. said this needs to be removed ASAP!!! 2 wks and 5 doctors later, all gone, 100% clear. No chemo/radiation. Just 2 great surgeons with a plan thx to cat scans up-front and an oncologist that did other scans afterward as well as fancy blood/DNA tests to confirm it was all gone. An old chemistry teacher used to say to us "too much of ANYTHING Will Kill you!" and he was essentially correct. I've been exposed to the complete gamut of hazardous chemicals/radiation etc. in my career, but typically at much lower doses than the people who worked with them 40 hrs per week. There were times when I could have ingested some (mainly by swallowing soils/dusts/particles). Lucky! 'Have an 18 mo. follow-up (conveniently scheduled after bear and deer seasons!)

Be VERY safe in everything you do (and especially with your children/grandchildren!) I will not allow them to make those (preventable) kinds of mistakes...Many friends and their children have not been so lucky.

 

[coreydb]

Before I experienced combat, I was in Alaska on a winter airborne operation. Dressed in the old 1970s era extreme cold weather clothing with full combat gear and weapon, we all had over 100 lbs. of equipment strapped to us. The aircraft was approaching the far end of the drop zone and I was the last jumper, when the jumpmaster booted me in the middle of my parachute pack, thrusting me out the aircraft, as I was approaching the door. I fell uncontrolled, saw horizon, sky, horizon, ground, and horizon again, several times before I finally stopped. As I stopped tumbling I noticed I couldn't breathe and discovered my neck was wrapped in one parachute riser and the parachute canopy was deployed but not opening. I was falling fast and unsuccessfully fighting to get my neck free when I saw my life - literally- and screamed "NO". My fingers dug well into my neck and managed to free myself of the riser. I did a quick look around to get my bearings and saw I was just above tree-top level (how far, I really couldn't say). The parachute fully opened when I unwrapped my neck thus slowing my rapid descent, and immediately jettisoned my equipment (35-40 lbs. rucksack). The rucksacks are attached to a 12 ft. rope tied off on our personal load bearing equipment harness to not lose it accidently during a jump. I was already in a prepared to land position looking down, and saw the rucksack hit the ground hard, because the distance from me to the ground was less than 12 feet. I The ruck hit, immediately after I hit the rucksack tumbling on the ground. I did a total body check for injuries by feel while on the ground, because adrenaline masks a lot of things. I got up, saw my parka soaked through in the armpits and my cold weather over-pants were soaked through with my own urine. When the field ambulance and drop zone safety personnel arrived (they were screaming towards me like people running away from Godzilla) I was shaking convulsively from adrenaline and anger. After a thorough check out by the medics, the Commanding Officer asked what happened, I recounted the actions of the jumpmaster and told him I was going to kill the jump master. (what a stupid thing to say in the military to your commanding officer). He said he would get justice and he did!....That son of an Aids infested camel. No one ever saw the jumpmaster again. Nothing I experienced in combat came that close emotionally, I guess because there were options, plans, and back up in place. Falling uncontrolled, unable to breathe with no major injuries was completely in the hands of God.

 

[Rhoyland4]

The next morning I couldn’t even stand. Off to the hospital. It took them several hours but they finally diagnosed me with GBS (Guillain Barre’ Syndrome). Not totally life threatening, but it put me in ICU for two weeks that included draining and replacing plasma and then two weeks of therapy just to use a walker and then four months of outpatient therapy. Took me almost two years to mostly recover and has left me with some degenerative nerve damage. The hand tremors certainly don’t help my shooting any.

In 2017 I had the Miller Fisher variant of Guillain-Barre'. It is considerably rarer. It starts central and works out to your extremities. I got double vision and went into respiratory failure, then became paralyzed. 23 days in ICU on a respirator, about 18-19 of that fully paralyzed, and 13 days in inpatient rehab—several months of outpatient. Thankfully, I don't have any long-term issues.

 

[cwpayton]

I think it deserves a separate, special category all it's own, and buddy I am right there with you:

"Things I got away with once - so I did it again."

There is a subcategory of, "How many times did you invoke help in Jesus' name?" Or, promise to never do it again, but you did it again anyway.

Scud running in B-17s, B-25s, and the B-23 going to/from airshows. Special VFR departure, join up, report clear of clouds, and then climb through IFR to VFR on top. VFR on top in a PBY going from Geneseo, NY to Owl's Head, ME - engine failure. Unable to maintain altitude, so - 200 fpm down, single engine IFR descent, vectors to VFR airport.

The list goes on, but there is one which sticks with me the most. What seemed like the right decision, soon became an emotional roller-coaster. It went from "Hell yes we can do this" to "Oh shit this was a bad idea" to "I can't believe I talked myself into this" to "Piece of cake, this is going to work" to "Awesome", ending with "Thank you Jesus".

(Names omitted and locations changed to protect the guilty)

We were wrapping up the airshow season in West Texas and heading back to home base. The B-17, Corsair, Hellcat, P-40, and F3F took off as a flight. I was in the P-38 and was experiencing a bit of trouble with the right engine, the B-25 remained behind while I sorted out the engine.

Engine problem remedied (we thought) and the 25 and I departed and headed home. We flew in formation, it was fun, there was always someone in a bomber to take your picture, and if there was a problem - you had somebody close.

We were about an hour into the flight and the right engine started acting up, the 25 crew began checking their maps for enroute options and I suggested we climb and press for home.
Side note: About a year prior, I lost an engine in a P-38 on take-off, climbed to 14,500' on the remaining engine and flew it home.

In the climb, the right engine problem worsened but it would hold idle power. Then came the bad news, weather had moved into our home base, not too bad, scattered to broken clouds from 5000' to 1200'. Doesn't sound too bad because the 25 crew left out the really bad part.

We pressed for home and I could see the clouds on the horizon grow bigger and closer by the second. We decided to stay at altitude as long as possible, let down through a hole, and descend in formation.

Then came the really bad news - light rain. If I land now, there I stay; what the hell - we can do this.

The 25 crew was able to get weather updates as well as talk to Air Traffic Control, I had my radios tuned to ATC and our private ship-to-ship. The 25 pilot came over the radio, "Hey, those holes have kinda closed up, rather than let down in a spiral, I've asked for a straight descent to vectors to a 10 mile finale, you good?"

Flying formation is about trust. You trust lead won't take you into the dirt and you trust your wingman won't smash into you.

The pilot of the 25 and I had been flying together for years, if I was going to trust anybody - it was him.

"Yeah, I'm good". I whisper Jesus' name for the first time.

We started down while VFR to match speeds and close the distance. The 38 is not an easy airplane to fly in formation, the engine nacelle and mid-wing require you to stack down, slightly under the lead aircraft, if level - raising a wing blocks your view in that direction.

I find my spot on the 25, maneuver into position and stay focused on that spot, I no longer look forward. Blue sky surrounding the 25 turns white, we are in the clouds. Water drops form streaks across my windshield, I press in a bit tighter. Wisps of white appear between me and the 25, I press as close as I dare. My left wing is just inside the right wing of the 25, I'm stacked down, looking up at the crew in the side window of the 25. I see thumbs raised and feel water on my face, then I realize - it's not rain, it's sweat. I confess to Jesus, "This was a bad idea".

The pilot of the 25 knows I can't look at my instruments so he calls out altitudes and distance to the airport, airspeed won't matter until we get close. For now I just stay in position.

"Coming up on 10 miles out, slight right turn on to the localizer, stay with me".

This was the, "I can't believe I talked myself into this phase". "OK, I'm in your hands". I was actually talking to Jesus, I had no choice but to stick with the 25.

We continue through the clouds and then I hear over the radio, "Ceiling 1200', visibility 3 miles - light rain".

This is going to work.

Through the narrow space between the nacelle and cockpit I start to pick up the ground.

From the 25 I hear, "3 miles and 1000' - runway in sight. I slide right of the 25, and we both slow to approach speed and configure for landing.

"You land, I'm going around", I look over at the 25 and see my friend nod toward the runway.

At 500' the 25 stops his descent, powers up, raises gear and flaps and executes a hard left turn to circle back and land. Vapor trails are forming off the wingtips. Awesome - thank you Jesus.

I was asked later what I was thinking at that time; my answer was, I was picturing the cover of Air Classics Magazine with the headline: Experienced Warbird Pilot Makes Fatal Mistake. I imagined the funeral, "How could he have been so stupid?" Well, how could I have been so stupid - apparently it's not as difficult as one would like to think.

I dont know your age or background so I must ask have you ever flown a military P A R approach

 

[Flbt]

Coming back home tonight
On a back rd that has a few blind curvs one a s curve . I was doing 50 ish car came around the first one on my side. Best guess 90 or better.
He got back on his side less than 20 feet.
I was about to the point I was going to take my chances with the ditch instead of a head on.

 

[cwpayton]

Permit me to relate how my little brother was put in harms way in Central America. It was one of those classified activities that happen often without the world knowing there is even a skirmish. He was in a small, hastily built air traffic control tower when it was shot down to the ground. Though riddled with bullet holes, no one was hit. He said, "you don't know how fast or how far you can duck walk to get out of a situation."
Later he was in Desert Storm with the AF, but not as dangerous as the skirmish was to his health.

sounds like Nicaragua in the 80s

 

[meigsbucks]

In 2017 I had the Miller Fisher variant of Guillain-Barre'. It is considerably rarer. It starts central and works out to your extremities. I got double vision and went into respiratory failure, then became paralyzed. 23 days in ICU on a respirator, about 18-19 of that fully paralyzed, and 13 days in inpatient rehab—several months of outpatient. Thankfully, I don't have any long-term issues.

Glad you’re doing OK now. Scary stuff.

 

[Franco]

I dont know your age or background so I must ask have you ever flown a military P A R approach

I'm in my 70's. Only practice. Flying WWII aircraft into military or joint airbases for a show, or sometimes transiting their airspace - it was not unusual to be offered a practice approach.

Did a few no-gyro and GCAs. Lost the gyros in a Viscount and a Canberra. Hydraulic system ruptured in a TBM Avenger and filled the cockpit with mist, coating all the glass, controls, and me. My vision was severely restricted, fortunately there was no lasting damage.

I've done a lot of CATIIIs.

I assume you've done PARs? I sure could have used one in that P-38 episode, but as I said, the smarter decision would have been to just go somewhere VFR.

 

[cwpayton]

I'm in my 70's. Only practice. Flying WWII aircraft into military or joint airbases for a show, or sometimes transiting their airspace - it was not unusual to be offered a practice approach.

Did a few no-gyro and GCAs. Lost the gyros in a Viscount and a Canberra. Hydraulic system ruptured in a TBM Avenger and filled the cockpit with mist, coating all the glass, controls, and me. My vision was severely restricted, fortunately there was no lasting damage.

I've done a lot of CATIIIs.

I assume you've done PARs? I sure could have used one in that P-38 episode, but as I said, the smarter decision would have been to just go somewhere VFR.

I did P A R approaches on the service end in the military fixed base and G C A . we pickup up the aircraft about 10 miles out from approach control on a small screen radar with the glidepath and horizontal limits depicted on the scope and talk them in under IFR conditions. Im sure they probably dont even have them anymore , but the went something like this . Bull 11 approaching glidepath , bull11 begin descent , bull 11 left of course , left of course and correcting bull 11 slightly below glide path, and so on. My first base we had a museum [castle California] we had a canberra ,gift from Canada, small bomber if I remember correctly, we also brought in the rival AC to the current A10, a much better looking proto type. ,but they didnt get the contract lots of other ww11 bombers I had the priviledge of talking to on they're last flight. the old sac base is closed but the museum is probably still there. Ahh those were the days.

 

[Franco]

I did P A R approaches on the service end in the military fixed base and G C A . we pickup up the aircraft about 10 miles out from approach control on a small screen radar with the glidepath and horizontal limits depicted on the scope and talk them in under IFR conditions. Im sure they probably dont even have them anymore , but the went something like this . Bull 11 approaching glidepath , bull11 begin descent , bull 11 left of course , left of course and correcting bull 11 slightly below glide path, and so on. My first base we had a museum [castle California] we had a canberra ,gift from Canada, small bomber if I remember correctly, we also brought in the rival AC to the current A10, a much better looking proto type. ,but they didnt get the contract lots of other ww11 bombers I had the priviledge of talking to on they're last flight. the old sac base is closed but the museum is probably still there. Ahh those were the days.

What a small world. When you asked about PARs, Castle AFB is what popped into my head. I flew Mike Bogue's B-23 Dragon, there was (is?) a B-23 Dragon in the museum at Castle. Parts of the tail gear assembly off the museum's airplane were swapped onto Bogue's B-23 prior to him acquiring the airplane.

If I was anywhere close to Castle, I made a point of getting closer so I could do a PAR to a low approach fly-by. Damn - you guys would take me right down the centerline and into the concrete if I didn't stop the descent. Perhaps it was you? Those were great times, thanks for bringing back some great memories.

 

[Rhoyland4]

Glad you’re doing OK now. Scary stuff.

Thanks! Sorry, you have nerve damage from it. It seems most people I have talked to who had the regular version have some long-term issues.

 

[C.W. Richter]

I had a very bad experience with a black mamba on our farm ten years ago.

Went out at midday with my 50 Cal Muzzleloader looking for a kudu bull.
Decided to work my way very slowly up a small dry drainage line, heavily overgrown alongside the banks.
My left leg was suffering from some form of nerve damage after the previous week's mountain hunt.....I could not lift it up or walk properly...had to crab along slowly.
At some point I heard a branch break very close to me in front.....could not see a thing through the thickets...so I decided to slide down the bank into the dry gulley itself from where I would be able to softly sneak up on the kudu.
Due to my gammy leg it was slow going to get down the 10 foot bank.
Halfway down I started hearing a strange noise......very persistant and also very close.
I could not see anything while trying to get down so I kept going and eventually landed on the sand intact.
The next moment an extremely large black mamba reared up with it's open mouth literally almost touching my face.
I am almost two meters tall.
I realised that the rest of the mamba's body was between my legs and that the sound from earlier was the mamba blowing/ hissing due to the soil and pebbles that I dislodged and dropped down on it.
I remember very very clearly that there was not a single thing that I could do at that moment......whether I was going to live or die depended entirely on the mamba.
( my mind already calculated the distance back to the truck with one useless leg, full bite in the face, then another two hours to nearest hospital.......and the conclusion was reached in miliseconds. You will not make it. Walk to the nearest road and try to send a gps pin location so that my family can find and bury me before the hyenas do )
Time stood still for me.
The mamba kept gaping his mouth in my face for what felt like an eternity.
Then suddenly it lowered itself.........and started to climb up the opposite bank about 5 meters away and then draped itself across a large broken knobthorn branch.
There it stayed...all the while watching me.
My decision was easy.
It spared my life.....and I was not going to kill it although it was an easy shot at less than 10 meters.
I very slowly hobbled away and to this day have not hunted that same section again.
It is a strange experience to be in a situation where you are completely at the mercy of another party/ entity .

A guide in Zim told me (essentially) the very same encounter tale-it was in the dark. He remained motionless and it eventually went away. Another crawled up into the bed of the hunting vehicle when it got run over by it. LOL The hunters needed a change of clothes when they finally got out! 'Have encountered quite a few mamba, cobra and adders in Africa, and we had to dispatch of one that was lying in-wait beneath a sand track, but none have gotten in our faces, as of yet.

 

[DLSJR]

I was16 years old living in Nicaragua during the civil war. I was visiting my girlfriend, and somehow lost track of time and realized the curfew had started. If you were found on the streets, the national guard would shoot you on the spot, no questions asked.

I took off running to get home and I heard the rumble of the only tank in town. I was about two blocks from my house when I saw the lights of the trucks and tank and could see the national guard troops on foot. I ducked under a vehicle and prayed as the vehicles and troops went by me some inches away. Once they turned into another street, I crawled out from under the vehicle and ran home.

When I told my grandma what had happened, she grounded me for two weeks for being stupid.

But…

Did you get lucky that night?

 

[Creigh]

Was riding in the back of a samil 50, military troop carrier, through a city. 5 of us in the back. We sat by the back exit, well simply put, there were pretty girls in the city. One of the lads put a steal rod on my seat and the far part of the rod fell to the floor and the near end was pointed up into my rib cage. The flap at the back has a bent pipe that forms part of the step. I became completely captivated by the paint work, it suddenly looked like velvet to me. So much so that I grabbed it with one hand and squeezed hard. Right then we had an accident, big collusion.
Every thing slowed down, I saw my mates fly up into the air and slam into the cab. One guy broke an arm, another a collar bone, others bruises and scratches. Anyway right after the accident there was dust hanging in the air and a dead quiet and I looked down and saw the rod. I would have been a skewer. God was looking out for me.
The other was, as a kid about 4 years old, some guy tried to kill me. Dug a hole, put me in it and smashed my head with the sharp end of a shovel. Mom came around the corner, she had a sixth sense about stuff and was headed my way already. She fought that guy off. I have a vague memory of crying and the blood everywhere. But yeah, those. were two of many.

Edit - this vehicle

 

[PARA45]

What a small world. When you asked about PARs, Castle AFB is what popped into my head. I flew Mike Bogue's B-23 Dragon, there was (is?) a B-23 Dragon in the museum at Castle. Parts of the tail gear assembly off the museum's airplane were swapped onto Bogue's B-23 prior to him acquiring the airplane.

If I was anywhere close to Castle, I made a point of getting closer so I could do a PAR to a low approach fly-by. Damn - you guys would take me right down the centerline and into the concrete if I didn't stop the descent. Perhaps it was you? Those were great times, thanks for bringing back some great memories.

When were you at Castle AFB? That was my first assignment 83-85, and I worked in scheduling at the HQ building.

 

[Franco]

When were you at Castle AFB? That was my first assignment 83-85, and I worked in scheduling at the HQ building.

I was never based there, my background is civilian not military. 86/87 would have been about the earliest I would have flown the B-23, I flew it in the movie Tucker, which was filmed in 87ish.

83-85 is possibly when the tail wheel components were swapped out. World Airways owned the airplane until Ed Dayly's death in 84. Bogue acquired it shortly thereafter. It was based in Oakland and we flew it a lot.