(who quickly switched to steel carabiners). And then there was a bizarre device that was designed to provide a range of attachment points to adjust a glider’s trim but had potential unintended consequences of hatcheting the head of a pilot who whacked hard and fell headfirst into the top of the control bar. The danger was made worse by the fact that many pilots in 1973 flew without helmets. There’s an obvious “cool” factor of having all these pieces of hang gliding history in one place, but, I asked Ken, what might this collection contribute to the sport of hang gliding today and in the future? Ken considered the question for a bit, then admitted that he’s not at all clear about the real value of his collection. Perhaps reflecting back on the fate of those WWII warplanes, he suggests that “the main thing I’ve done is getting my hands on stuff and keeping it. I’m persuaded that there’s enough substance to this collection that I need to figure out where it can go, and I definitely need to inventory it—without a catalog, when I kick the bucket, it’s all going to be just a pile of stuff.” I could hear disappointment and, perhaps, bafflement in his voice as he mused, “Not many people care now, and probably not many
will care in the future. I don’t know who might want it, or what somebody might be able to do with it.” He’s open to suggestions. But it’s history, Ken insists, and he’s adamant that it shouldn’t be allowed to just get lost. Still, he laments, “Even if we could magically construct an institution and create a well illustrated, well built, well curated museum, probably nobody—not even hang glider pilots!—would flock to see it. Hang gliders hanging from the ceiling are not interesting— it’s not really hang gliding, unless there’s motion and activity.” Well, maybe. But the crowds I encountered during my recent visit to the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space museum on the mall in Washington DC, and its recently opened extension at the Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center near Dulles Airport, suggest that Ken’s being too pessimistic. Aviation nerds are captivated by more than the crowd-appeal of flying machines in motion. If you’re nodding in agreement, I’d suggest you contact Ken, and have a chat about whatever hang gliding historyrelated topic has captured your interest. You won’t be disappointed.
OPPOSITE Ken tells the story of hang gliding | photo by Rich Harman.
You can email Ken at WeFlyUniv@aol.com, or call him at 360293-8621. He’ll enjoy hearing from you!
ABOVE John Dickenson, Pete Brock, Barry Palmer and Ken DeRussy at
Ken’s hang gliding museum in 2011 | photo by Paul Dees.