And So It Began

1. And So Began The Irish Nation
2. And So It Began Pic
3. It Began To Rain

Accordingto Bosch, the new Russian government was short of cash and had decided to grantindependence to some of its old airplane factories. Those places were now freeto generate their own operating revenues by selling planes to buyers in the West. Bosch’s contact said he could deliver as many Yak-52’s as we wanted for$15,000 apiece. The caveat: they would be shipped disassembled. Bosch told thegroup of us that if we pooled our resources and talents we could assemble themourselves. He concluded by asking, “Who is interested in this?” Immediately acouple of hands went up along with two or three “Count-me-ins” and one “Hellyes!”. “Well,”said a fellow whom I was only casually familiar with, “I’ve already got twoplanes.

I can’t see getting another one unless” He looked around. “unless Ican go in with someone as a partner.” Looking back on that conversation itseems odd he would throw out such an invitation in a group. Would he not bebetter making that proposal to selected individuals? I supposed hetrusted all of us standing around him. Strangelove not being able tocontrol his arm, mine went up. “I guess I’ll throw on in with you, George.”.

And So Began The Irish Nation

Theweeks went by and Bosch was not able to get his man to follow through, but nomoney had been put up yet, so most us who had heard the proposal shrugged the idea off.Then came another breakfast Saturday, and among the planes that came in was aYak-52. Everyone swarmed around it. Questions assailed the pilot. George and Iwere among a few he selected to go for a ride in the back cockpit. We came downwith a determination bordering on fanaticism and George said, “I’m gonna get meone of these. Are you still in?” Boy, was I.

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Butagain the tempering touch of time doused the flames of fervor and I consignedthe Yak-52 ride to a pleasant memory. Not so George. He called me from the bigSun-in-Fun airshow. He had met a guy named Marty from West Virginia who said hecould get us a -52 fully assembled for $35K. In fact at that moment he had twoof them in crates aboard ship headed for the states.

One was spoken for; theother was available. George told me he committed on the spot.

Marty wanted 10%down. I wrote George a $1750 check, figuring in all likelihood I would seeneither that money again nor a Yak-52. I was almost right. Months passed. Martyhad delays. Marty had excuses.

Our passion for the Yak waned. But the day came when Marty was on his way to our field riding atop our Yak, and it wasanother breakfast Saturday. Word spread like wildfire. People had cameras out.George and I were like kids on Christmas Eve.

Finally we heard a rumble, thengot sight of it coming in fast. Marty came overhead as fast as the Yak would go—150knots. It looked to us like he was going Mach 1. The heavy, heaving roar of its radial engine rolled across the airfield. People yelled and pumped fists high inthe air. Marty set the ungainly machine down and taxied to the fuel pump. (AYak-52 never passed a fuel pump it didn't want to suck.) George and Icaressed the bare paint-stripped metal and felt the heat on the cowling.

Weclimbed up to the work station and smelt the pungent aroma of old militaryairplane interiors, stained and saturated with, gas, oil and countless episodesof air sickness. A fewdays later a sizeable crowd gathered again when we pulled it out for its firstlocal flight. I was to be the test pilot.

And So It Began Pic

I had studied for days. It had been a longtime since I sat in a fighter-like cockpit, and this plane, despite its slowspeed, was very fighter-like in its other performance parameters. I was a bit apprehensiveuntil I got it up and pulled up the gear and let it climb like a sky tiger. Within minutes I felt like I was born in it. I did afew rolls and brought it down. Then George had his turn, although he wanted meto go with him for his first flight.

George and I violated every rule in the book of fractional aircraft ownership. We didn't consult a lawyer. We had no written agreement. We didn't discuss it. In fact, we hardly knew each other. But in the ensuing 14 years of owning the Yak together there was never a dispute, never a raised voice, a serious disagreement or a problem. I remember he called me one day and confessed he had hooked a new battery up backwards.

The reversed polarity had fried the fuel quantity indicator. He had ordered a new one for $500.

It Began To Rain

He apologized and said he would cover it. I was on scene within 15 minutes with a $250 check to him. And that's how we made it work. George became one of my closest friends and confidants. I deeply miss him.

But whatabout One Alpha Charlie, you say? Man, did I love the way that call sign rolledout of my lips. They were beautiful words, for a beautiful airplane.

I found abuyer for her quickly. I delivered her to north Mississippi and the new ownerferried me back home in her. He let me fly her that last leg. Standing holding a check in my hand that seemed a poor substitute for what I traded for it, I watched him fade into a dot and disappear in the sunset. It was fittingthat he departed late in the day when no one else was around. It made crying easier.

AnonymousGiven and taken away. Moontown in the 'golden era' sold me on this town. It started for me with that first tailwheel touchdown on grass with Emily, and ended with George and Chris.Then, part of me says 'Do we let it end?' Our friends that passed enjoyed the crap out of it all and knew the risks.did it anyway.

Should we remember them while we wait for our own 'more timely' ends? The only thing that holds me back personally is that little 7 year old girl that calls me Daddy.

For now, I'll hope that others less encumbered go forth and throw airplanes about the sky for the heck of it. I hope they do.I wanna watch.

Just like with The Spaces Between, Nicholas Catron delivers another wonderful story here with And So It Began. The story has a dreamlike quality to it, a stylistic prose I cannot put my finger on, but it is so thoroughly enjoyable to read that I simply MUST mention it. Only here, it's a nightmare.At once captivating, puzzling, intriguing, and terrifying, this tale of the dawn of the apocalypse hits all the right notes. The prose is liquid, the dialogue perfect, the characters surprisingly well-d Just like with The Spaces Between, Nicholas Catron delivers another wonderful story here with And So It Began. The story has a dreamlike quality to it, a stylistic prose I cannot put my finger on, but it is so thoroughly enjoyable to read that I simply MUST mention it.

Only here, it's a nightmare.At once captivating, puzzling, intriguing, and terrifying, this tale of the dawn of the apocalypse hits all the right notes. The prose is liquid, the dialogue perfect, the characters surprisingly well-developed for such a short piece, and the final scene is an absolute gut-punch.

This is a powerful story, and wholly unique despite its premise. This kind of tale hasn't been done in quite this way before, at least to my knowledge, and it drew me in with its singularity.Anyone who enjoys horror NEEDS to get this story. You do yourself a disservice in skipping, and it's well worth the meager price. It's worth three or four times this, perhaps more, and I honestly can't think of a crowd I WOULDN'T recommend this book to.

Maybe blue-haired old ladies who like their books cozy and happy. But anyone else should love this one.Seriously, don't miss it. This one goes to eleven, and I'd give it that many stars if Goodreads allowed me to.