Troublesome flights

We at AOPA had three tragic deaths of beloved colleagues, and I busied myself planning aerial tributes for each of them. The first memorial flight was scheduled to honor AOPA Air Safety Institute Senior Vice President Richard McSpadden, and if ever a pilot deserved an aerial tribute, it was Richard. He had performed many such tributes himself as leader of the U.S. Air Force Thunderbirds, and we organized a general-aviation-focused flyover that he would have loved. It was to begin with a roof-rattling pass by four fast airplanes, followed by a traditional missing-man flight of four Super Cubs, the iconic backcountry model he identified with and adored. In fact, his own yellow Super Cub, N517WC, was going to fly the number-three position, breaking out
of the formation and turning west alone.

Several AOPA colleagues and I practiced the Super Cub formation flight on the sunny, fall day 24 hours before the memorial service. We coordinated it with tower controllers, confirmed our visual checkpoints, and measured the distance and time between them so we’d be sure to pass over the gathering just as the bugler finished playing Taps.

But the morning of the memorial turned gray and overcast. All four Super Cubs were parked on the ramp and the volunteer pilots were ready to fly, but then the rain began, the ceiling dropped, and conditions were low IFR when the memorial service began. Canceling the tribute flight was the obvious right choice.

The memorial service for aviation advocate Bill Dunn took place two months later under clear skies. But a winter cold front had just blown through the Mid-Atlantic, the temperature was in the teens, and the wind howled. Once again, we were ready to go with a four-ship missing-man formation to honor an irreplaceable friend. We gathered in a frigid hangar hoping the wind would subside, but it only got stronger. The wind was gusting to 42 knots when we reluctantly canceled our second tribute flight.

The final AOPA memorial service just one week later was for AOPA Aviation Finance President Adam Meredith, a sharp, witty, and likable former Mooney pilot who had helped hundreds of fellow fliers finance their own airplane purchases. Another cold front blasted through the region the day before Adam’s memorial, leaving six inches of snow on the ground and sheets of ice. A gusty northwest wind was blowing, too, but this time it was just 26 knots, and that seemed mild compared to the previous week.

We had another four-airplane formation flight ready to go, but the outcome was in doubt right up until takeoff time. The strong northwest wind meant the airplanes had to take off and land on Runway 30, and it was covered with snow and ice. Frederick Municipal Airport Manager Andrew Moore knew of our plight and directed the snowplows to Runway 30 as we started our preflight briefing. An hour later, 10 minutes before our takeoff deadline, the runway was clear enough. Air traffic controllers coordinated our pass through the Class D airspace and over the AOPA hangar where hundreds of Adam’s family and friends were gathered.

Mike Ginter, an AOPA vice president and former U.S. Navy pilot, led the flight and put us right on time and target. The air was rough enough that I saw the Van’s RV–8 pilot next to me whack his head on his canopy, but the formation held together and the missing-man breakaway was a thing of beauty.

We only pulled off one of three planned tribute flights, and that poor batting average was bitterly disappointing. We’d hoped to provide a positive and lasting memory for each of our friends’ families.

Attending two of the memorials in person turned out to be deeply rewarding. I heard some poignant stories from people who knew our former colleagues from other phases of their remarkable lives, and a great deal of insight and laughter mixed with the tears. Someday, when my turn comes to sign out, I hope it takes place on a CAVU day and ends with a flyover. The sound of airplanes flying together, fast and low, would be far more eloquent, and less embarrassing, than anything the pilots I know might say. But if the weather happens to be awful, don’t do anything stupid on my account. During my own highly questionable life in aviation, I’ve already checked that box.