Hugh Neeld: The Curmudgeon Report

Looks like I goofed again. The Tyler Civil Air Patrol Squadron held a Pancake Breakfast and Fly-In a week ago last Saturday at squadron headquarters on the east side of Tyler Pounds Regional Airport and I missed it — forgot about it! Darn! I love being around small planes and pilots. I can’t fly myself, but I like to look at the planes up close and talk to pilots.

The last time I went to anything like that was several years ago. On a visit with my daughter and her husband in Longview one Saturday, my wife and I learned of an unusual event talking place in East Texas — one we’d not heard of before. It was the annual Fly-In and Camp-Out at the Flying M Ranch near Reklaw.

My son-in-law, an engineer by profession, is a flyer, and the day before had accompanied a friend in his plane to the event. It sounded to me like it would make a great subject for a magazine article, and we made plans to drive up early the next morning, the final day.

There ought to be a Federal law, or at least a city ordinance, against having to get out of bed before 6 a.m., but we knew the planes would be departing shortly after breakfast, which was being served on the grounds, and didn’t want to miss anything.

The eastern sky was turning pink as the sun rose when we arrived at the entrance gate. A sign stated that this was the 17th Annual Fly-In & Camp Out, and that it was private and not open to the public. We were a little put off at that, but after driving all this way, felt that a short peek wouldn’t hurt and drove on in.

There must have been 50 (maybe more) small planes tethered like cattle all over this big pasture. Next to many of them were small tents, evidently where the pilots slept at night. The grass was wet with dew and a low ground fog gave the whole scene an eerie look.

The only person in sight was a man walking back and forth beside a plane. After parking the van I started walking toward him to ask where to find the head guy. When I got closer I saw that he held a cup in one hand and was busily brushing his teeth while he walked.

Did you ever see a picture of the old barnstorming pilots of the depression era? With his leather jacket, grease-stained khakis and three-day growth of beard, that’s what I was reminded of. I didn’t know what the protocol was for approaching a stranger under these conditions, but fortunately he saw me, spat on the ground, put his toothbrush in the cup and ambled over.

“Howdy,” he said. “Nice day.”

I told him who we were looking for and was directed to a second entrance a short distance away.

On this side of the pasture was a big metal hanger and landing strip. A long line of people had already started through the hanger where breakfast was being served. We got someone to point out the owner of the ranch and went over to introduce ourselves.

He was a tall, rugged-looking former airline pilot who said he bought the ranch when he retired, and 17 years ago started the Fly-In & Camp Out event as an annual get-together for fellow pilots. He reiterated what the signs at the entrance had said: This was private and not open to the public.

He said he’d had an offer once from a local chamber of commerce to sponsor and promote it as a public event, but had declined.

“It’s not an air show,” he said. “There’s no contests or stunt planes — just a get-together for pilots.”

He was friendly but plainspoken about not wanting any publicity. We were welcome to stay for breakfast, but at $10 apiece decided to go home where bacon and eggs were more reasonably priced.

At the time, I knew a magazine article was out, but this many years later couldn’t resist doing a column. I was secure in the knowledge that any publicity from The Curmudgeon Report wouldn’t inflict serious harm any way.

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A question to ponder:

Before you put in your two-cents, should it be adjusted for inflation?

putterhugh@suddenlink.net

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Hugh Neeld is a freelance columnist for TylerPaper.com.

Hugh Neeld is a freelance columnist for TylerPaper.com.
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