A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Airport

By Ed Knitter

That’s the story behind the story about most aviation careers. The original intention and the road traveled end up being vastly different. I’m not even sure exactly what I expected for myself, but I never could have imagined the twists and turns and opportunities I have been afforded by my career path.

I grew up with dirty hands and a wrench in at least one of them. My parents started taking flight lessons and that’s when I was introduced to the idea of becoming an aircraft mechanic. I’m not exactly sure where I figured I would end up, but it sounded like a good path. I spent a year choosing a good school and my last years in high school selecting courses that would help. Once I graduated high school off I went.

Before I completed my training I was lucky enough to have a job waiting for me at a museum that featured flying aircraft from the World War II generation. I could share many stories of long hours working on projects that resulted in triumphant success. I could list dozens of famous types of aircraft I worked on, such as the P-40, MiG-17, P-47, Stearman, AT6, PBY, B-17, AN-2, Aeroncas, Pipers, C-45, C-46, C-47 BT-13, PT-19 and the L5, just to name a few. While those were all amazing machines and it was my pleasure to work on and to fly many of them, it was the people that I encountered along the way that I appreciate the most.

The famous, the not so famous and all of the men and women from next door that respected our veterans and worked very hard to honor them. I hate to do a bunch of name-dropping, but this story wouldn’t be complete without a few.

So I’m sitting down to breakfast in a Connecticut hotel at 6:01 a.m., the minute they opened. We were in a hurry because we had to prepare the B-17 for an early morning flight. Then, none other than Francis Gabby Gabreski (our highest European ace credited with the destruction of 34½ aircraft) walks in and asks us if he may join us for breakfast! Then, almost exactly 24 hours later and one seat down from where we sat the day before, we were eating breakfast again and in walks Bill Layher (Flight Leader, 2nd Squadron Flying Tigers) who asks the same question, if he might join us for breakfast. If you’re not into World War II history, it’s a lot like having Mick Jagger ask if he can join you for breakfast and the next day Paul McCartney asks you the same question.

I have gotten to know Charles Sweeney, Robin Olds, several of the Tuskegee Airmen, Frank Borman and many others. I flew with Bob Morgan (Memphis Belle) and ate dinner with him so many times you would have thought I was related. We did however have the same blood type, B-17!

Most of the World War II generation are gone. But in addition to those notable names and many others, are the World War II generation whose names you won’t find on a website dedicated to the famous. I’m talking about the men and the women who did the job, got it done, and came home to raise families. I spent three decades taking it for granted because it was such a daily part of my life to be in constant contact with members of the greatest generation and those who came on their heels. The stories they shared with me are enough to fill volumes, and I probably should.

Some of you may be aware that Lindbergh toured the Pacific during the war. He was teaching units how to extend the range of their aircraft. For many years they were sworn to secrecy that he had engaged in aerial combat. If that had been known at home he would have been immediately removed from forward units and shipped home, as he was considered too precious a National Treasure to place at risk. It was my pleasure to hear of this first hand from a friend who was there flying P-47 Thunderbolts, Bill Chase.

And of course you’ve heard of the Women Airforce Service Pilots, with which Dawn Seymour served. She amassed over 700 hours in B-17s, and I was there for some of the last hours she amassed. Such a magnificent woman, a pleasure to spend time with her. It’s no wonder Mort fell in love with her.

For every name I could add to this list, there are 50 more names I could give you that you can’t look up on a wall of fame. The men and women that flew them, that worked on them and the ones who had much smaller parts in the military but came to the museum to work on those magnificent flying machines in tribute to the older generation that had gone before them.

Fighter pilots with no mechanical skill whatsoever came to be a part of it and did some of the most menial jobs we had. They were next to school teachers of every kind, engineers of every kind, machinists, woodworkers, chemists and every trade profession and skill that you can name, even an insurance salesman.