There was nothing outwardly spectacular about the Spirit of Athenian's first flight. Puttering along at 25 mph, needing only about 200 feet of runway, it lifted off like any other Wag-Aero Sport Trainer. But about 100 spectators thought that wheels-up moment was pretty special as they cheered wildly from a viewing platform at Concord, California's Buchanan Field. It was the many children in the crowd who cheered loudest as their airplane took its maiden flight.
Yes, their airplane, as in these kids know every clamp, crankshaft, and connecting rod in that engine; they wrote their names on each of the wing's ribs; welded the landing gear onto the fuselage; and had their hands and minds on just about every other aspect of bringing this baby to life.
The airplane belongs to The Athenian School, a college-prep academy in Northern California's East Bay, but the idea and the execution of having students build it belongs to Marsh Freeman.
Interested in gliders and U-Control airplanes — a gas-powered model airplane on a wire; it flies around the "pilot" in a circle — since childhood, Freeman has been a pilot all his life. He teamed up with two Stanford University fraternity brothers to buy his first airplane in 1946, a $700 Taylorcraft. After earning an economics degree, he joined the U.S. Air Force, but, deaf in one ear and colorblind, he failed to bluff his way through the pilot fitness exams and worked instead as a mechanic.
Freeman built his first of four airplanes, an aerobatic Skybolt, in 1976. At some point he realized that he loved the building as much as the flying. When he retired from trade-magazine publishing in 2000, there was time to pursue a long-brewing idea of sharing his passion with kids. "Being part of a long-term, step-by-step process has a lot of rewards," the 73-year-old Freeman says. "It's a good way to organize your life because it prevents you from expecting that everything is going to be delivered to you immediately. Instead you see that it's the getting there that provides the enjoyment."
Freeman first pitched his airplane-building project to the local community services department near his Diablo, California, home. "It was totally dumped on," he says with a laugh. "They just didn't get it." The Athenian School did. Eleanor Dase, head of school, recognized it as a perfect fit for the school's emphasis on experiential education and loved the idea of Freeman and fellow veteran homebuilders sharing their knowledge and enthusiasm with students. Her only question was, "Are you really serious?"
That was in fall 2002, and by February 2003, Freeman had seen through the permitting and construction of a shop at the school and prepared presentations to sell the project to students and their parents. He expected maybe 40 kids and wound up with 85, fairly evenly mixed between genders. The project is a club activity and kids typically spent two to four hours per week in the airplane shop.
Students range in age from 11-year-old sixth-graders to 17-year-old seniors working in various "tracks" led by Freeman and friends from the Experimental Aircraft Association's local chapter. The wing task force, for example, was led by retired Navy pilot and master woodworker Dr. Jim Mandley. Students who logged the most hours on this track signed their names on each of the wing's 22 ribs before stringing them onto the spar. Another group learned metal work and welding while assembling the fuselage.
Midway through the two-and-a-half-year endeavor, Freeman bought a run-out engine, a 125-horsepower Lycoming O-290, and discussed each part and its function as the students disassembled it. The parts were then driven in rattling containers to Ly-Con Engine Rebuilding in Visalia, California, which donated the time and labor to rebuild the engine. Once it was mounted, students wired the instruments and lights, and rigged the flight controls. Then the sheet-metal crew went to work on the cowling.
The variety of materials involved was a key reason Freeman chose the Sport Trainer. Its traditional design and its capacity for forgiveness, in the building and flying phases, met his criteria, too. Basic aeronautical facts and concepts were discussed throughout the project, although the emphasis was on building, not piloting, an airplane.
Freeman and his wife, Margaret, funded the Spirit of Athenian and have donated the finished product to the school. "They are welcome to keep it in my hangar and I'd be more than happy to fly it," he notes. Spirit's 25 solo hours were nearly flown off by the end of March, and Head of School Dase was eagerly awaiting her promised flight as its first passenger. Once a long list of students and family members are given their rides, Spirit of Athenian will be sold to raise funds toward the next plane building project. Although he is still debating which airplane Athenian's students will tackle next, the homebuilder hopes to broaden the project by having engineers from the kit's manufacturer discuss aeronautical design with the kids. Freeman foresees a long personal involvement with Spirit of Athenian's successors, but says, ultimately, "I'd like to see it go beyond my time."
Freeman doesn't need another airplane. His current ride is a GlaStar, dubbed the "Thunder Shooting Marsh-Mellow" by his five grandchildren, and he keeps a Sport Trainer on floats at a North Idaho lake. In 2002, he bought a family heirloom, a 1954 Aeronca 15-AC Sedan, owned by his late relative Harold Wright. A colorful character, Wright owned the rare Aeronca for 40 years and was famous for using it to deliver "airmail" copies of his Sierra Booster newspaper in his Northern Sierra neighborhood.
Last fall, as Spirit of Athenian's test flight neared, the low-key Freeman was fired up. He'll be thrilled if Spirit of Athenian inspires future pilots, but it seems that his main goals of promoting the joy of the process and the value of teamwork were met long before liftoff.
"It was amazing how long it took and how much diligence and patience we needed," says Athenian freshman Jonathan Schafgans, of Danville. "At the beginning you couldn't really see the scope of the project, but when we put the ribs on the spar the airplane began to take shape for the first time." Asked if the program imparted any life lessons, Schafgans smiles enthusiastically. "Keep going!"
"It will be interesting to see where this project leads these kids in a few years," says Sheldon Ramsay, of Piedmont, whose son participated in early phases of the project. "It's a great marriage of hands-on experience and general aviation principles. I think it will whet a lot of students' appetites for flying."
"I think the kids are most excited about learning to do something with their hands and minds and being involved in something with such an exciting flavor," Freeman concludes. "There's the satisfaction that comes from just doing something right. That's important when you're building an airplane."
Kim F. Miller is a freelance writer who lives in Orange County, California. She is also Marsh Freeman's daughter and can be reached at [email protected].