Pilots

Visualize this early 1930s scene. A 10-year-old boy stands in a rural Indiana pasture, watching wistfully as a barnstormer hawks rides in his Curtiss Jenny biplane. A few brave souls await their turns with nervous excitement, but the boy lacks the requisite funds to go aloft and can only stand by. Such is Dick Taylor's earliest recollection of being bitten by the flying bug, typical perhaps of many pilots whose flying aspirations took root when they were young. Except for the punch line: a very heavyset passenger bought the next ride, apparently leading to dire weight-and-balance consequences. During the takeoff attempt, the aircraft hit a fence and flipped, fortunately without serious injury to the occupants.

Taylor was suitably impressed with the consequences of faulty decision-making in an airplane; it would be some years before he would have a chance to try his own hand at flying. He eventually enrolled in Purdue University's engineering program. He signed up for the Reserve Officer Training Corps as well. Students so inclined could take courses geared toward aeronautical engineering, an option that Taylor embraced. When Pearl Harbor was attacked, his aviation course work and ROTC background earned him a slot in Army Air Force pilot training. Taylor became a second lieutenant in a U.S. Army field artillery unit, normally not a flying position. But Gen. Hap Arnold had recently decided that there was a place in the Army for pilots of spotter aircraft to assist field-artillery targeting efforts. Taylor went on to see three and one-half years of combat duty in Europe, flying a half-dozen different light single-engine aircraft in his role as a spotter.

With the war over, in 1946 Taylor joined the Boeing Company as a design engineer. There were no formal test pilot schools at this time, and the combination of his analytical mind, an engineering degree, and military flight experience made him a valuable asset to the company. Taylor assumed duties as a flight engineer and copilot in Boeing's KB-29 and B-50 flight test programs. After just a couple of years, he moved to the B-47 Stratojet bomber program, flying as copilot for legendary test pilot Alvin "Tex" Johnston. Taylor later advanced to lead project pilot for the B-47. In that role he developed a never-before-used toss bombing technique. He also helped to flight-test numerous systems improvements that now are found in one form or another on most modern jet aircraft. These include the first wing vortex generators, an early antiskid braking system, and wing spoilers used to improve the lateral control characteristics of highly swept wing designs.

"Once in flight test, you could find yourself getting involved in almost anything," remembers Taylor. For instance, he earned the distinction of becoming the first aerial refueling rigid-boom operator. (Someone decided that his light-airplane experience would be useful in learning how to "fly" the boom.) He spent some time as chief of flight testing for Boeing's B-52 bomber, and for awhile he was assistant chief engineer for the company's supersonic transport program.

Over the years, Taylor held a number of different management positions at Boeing, including vice-president-level jobs in Boeing's commercial aircraft division. Arguably, it was there that he had the most visible influence on modern commercial aviation. For instance, he played a pivotal role in making the case for two-person airline cockpit design. Today, two-person cockpits are commonplace, but the industry's decision to adopt them was initially mired in controversy. Taylor's work in the 1960s as director of engineering for the 737 led to that aircraft's being certified with a crew of two. Nearly all large airliners produced today have benefited in some way from Taylor's efforts in the areas of human factors and system designs.

Not one to shy away from controversial ideas he believes in, Taylor is today known as the father of extended-range twin operations (ETOPS). At one time, the notion of flying a twin-engine aircraft in extended-range operations (more than one hour from a suitable alternate landing field) was considered insane. Beginning in the early 1980s, Taylor led a push to allow commercial twin jets to operate at farther distances from alternate airports, based on the inherently greater reliability of modern powerplants and aircraft systems. Today, twinjet ETOPS flights routinely and safely operate up to three hours from alternate airports.

Taylor has flown the KC-135, 707, 727, 747, 757, and 767, among other large aircraft. But he has never forgotten his light-aircraft roots. In fact, he owned one aircraft or another since the mid-1950s. He has owned a radial-engined Grumman Widgeon, a Cessna T-210 and a 185 on floats, a Christen Eagle, and an Aero Commander. Now retired from Boeing after 45 years (but still consulting for the aerospace giant), he owns two Aerostars (a 600A and a 602P/Superstar 700), as well as a share in a Piper Super Cub.

Taylor has managed to pass on his own highly contagious strain of the flying bug to his son Steve, who soloed in in the Super Cub at 16 and received his private certificate in it a year later. Steve is now a regional sales director for Boeing Business Jets and has earned a commercial certificate with an instrument rating and a 737 type rating.

The elder Taylor's passion for flying has not diminished with retirement. He still flies about 200 hours a year and stays involved with several flying organizations.

Many years after he witnessed the aftermath of a barnstormer's ill-considered takeoff, Taylor's contribution to the safety of countless other flights is considerable.