February 23, 2024 - In the late 1940s my dad installed a new composition roof on our house. For some reason he selected a dark blue color instead of the usual brown. Little did he know at the time that this decision may have saved a life.
I was in elementary school around 1944 and our family was eating breakfast that morning. Dad would be going to his job at the courthouse and Mom to her beauty shop. They would drop me off at the grammar school for a day of education. Just a routine day before us.
It was a very foggy morning, the kind that limits your sight to just a few yards. Suddenly we heard the sound of an airplane flying over our house at a low altitude. We all looked at each other, surprised, as we seldom heard airplanes in our neck of the woods. We waited a few minutes listening for the unmistakable sound again. We were not disappointed as the plane flew over our house once again even closer to the ground. Dad said, “That plane must be in trouble. They don’t fly that close to the ground normally.” We all jumped up from the table and rushed out the back door.
We were amazed to see a small, single engine airplane landing in Reese Eddings’ pasture just one hundred yards north of our house. We stared with mouths agape at the event unfolding before us. I had never seen a real airplane that close before. As if a signal had been given my dad and I ran toward the pasture, climbing over two barbed wire fences in route. By the time we reached the airplane the pilot was outside surveying the landscape.
“Are you alright?” my dad asked the stranger. I was excited to see a real pilot and wondered why he had landed in the pasture. “Well, sir,” the pilot explained, “I am completely lost and running desperately low on fuel. I had to make an emergency landing.” He continued, “The fog is so thick all I could see from the air was your blue roof. I used that landmark to make my emergency landing. Now, where can I get some aviation fuel around here?”
My dad told him that he was certain that he would not find aviation fuel in our small town. He turned to Mr. Eddings, who had also come to the scene, and asked, “Do you own this property?” “Sure do,” replied Reese. “Then may I ask a favor of you, sir?” asked the pilot. Mr. Eddings made a quick mental assessment of the situation and replied, “Sure thing - name it.”
“Well, I would like permission to leave my plane here on your property for a few days until I can come back with fuel. You think it will be safe here?” They shook hands on the deal and he walked over to Mr. Eddings house probably to use his telephone.
I could hardly contain my excitement of being able to walk up to a real airplane and touch it and study its lines. Then dad brought me back to reality by reminding me that I had school to get to, and quickly. Being tardy for school was not in his vocabulary.
At school I began hearing word that an airplane had made a crash landing in a pasture north of town. The school was buzzing. Of course, I knew the facts and told everyone who would listen what actually occurred. It makes one feel important to be able to set rumors straight.
At last school was out and I rode the bus home. I ran through the house and out the back door and looked north. The airplane was still there. I headed through the pasture and climbed the fences until I stood staring at the “flying machine” in front of me. I climbed all over the big bird examining every rivet.
By the next day, Saturday, kids from all over, plus many adults, joined me in exploring the airplane. It made for a real side show. To my surprise, it remained parked there until Monday afternoon. Then late in the evening the pilot appeared with a five gallon can of fuel. I watched as he put the fuel into the plane. He turned and announced, “You kids better get way back. I am going to see if I can get this thing back in the air.” With that, he climbed into the cockpit and started the engine.
He taxied north to the edge of the pasture and turned the plane facing south. I was surprised at the loud noise and all the dust and debris being blown into the air. Suddenly he revved the engine and the plane began gaining speed as he headed south. I was afraid that he would run out of room but as he neared the south fence line the plane lifted off the ground. He made a steep climb narrowly missing the tops of some tall pine trees. I watched the plane until it got so small I could no longer identify it in the sky. Thus ended an exciting few days in the normally quiet life of a young boy.
Looking back on the incident it seems that dad’s new blue roof was a major factor in saving a lost pilot so many years ago. Who would have thought it?
