The Nashville Flood 2010 by Murray “Nick” Nicholson------Saturday, May 1, 2010
Would you look at that rain coming down, I said to Ruth. I don’t think we should go to Charlene’s reception for Candy and her new husband. “I can not go”, Ruth said emphatically….”after Charlene game to Rhonda’s baby shower in all that rain last Saturday….I have got to go” I nodded agreement and so we started out for Charlene’s in a downpour. I went and got the car while Ruth waited in the lobby. It was parked under the parking shed and the new golf umbrella I had just bought kept my upper body dry but that water rushing down off the hill got my feet soaked.
So we drove down the hill to highway 70 and started for I-440 figuring that would be the quickest way even in the rain. As we drove through Belle Meade we went past Richland Creek and the roads that cross it were already closed by the local police.
Many of Charlene and MJ’s friends showed up for the reception. I settled in the family room with others while Ruth made the rounds renewing old acquaintances. The big screen TV was turned to one of the local stations and they were already showing live shots of the flooding that was beginning to take place. They showed a section of I-24 under water with only the tops of cars showing above the water. Several semis were also stranded…and then the strangest sight….there was a portable building floating in what appeared to be the inside lane. As it floated by the sunken automobiles it began to collide with some and in a slow motion, almost eerie fashion the roof of the portable began to peel back.
By this time the eyes of two thirds of those in the room were fixed on the TV set. Then there appeared a video of West End Avenue, the area we had just driven through coming to Charlene’s. The street was completely flooded right in front of the Kroger store. A good Samaritan, a tall young man was wading waist deep in water to rescue a mother and her teenage daughter from their half sunken Toyota.
Now it was three thirtyish and we had been there almost an hour and I began to think about leaving and heading back home. Others also were beginning to wonder if their homes or the homes of their friends and neighbors were affected. We still had to wait on the cake though.
Along about four Ruth and I began to say our goodbyes and head out. There was a pickup blocking our car so we got Candy’s husband to move it for us. As we were about to leave MJ and I discussed what the best way to go was. I thought I would avoid the interstates for the most part and opted to take Briley Parkway past the Opryland Hotel and go around the North side of the city. Remember this was Saturday and it was due to rain another 30 hours until late Sunday night.
We stayed home Sunday and watched the rain. In a way we were oblivious to there being any flooding….maybe a little…and some power outage maybe…but no flooding. Well if you look at a map of Nashville you will see there are numerous rivers and creeks that run through it…the Cumberland the biggest snakes in and around the city. To the North it is dammed and forms Old Hickory Lake.The Stones river is East of town and is dammed up to form Percy Priest Lake. To the Southeast and West are the Harpeth, Big Harpeth and Little Harpeth rivers and then the smaller creeks through town the Richland and Mills creeks.
Some call this a 500 or 1000 year flood and I know a flood of this magnitude had never happened in my lifetime,…I am in my 77th year. I can remember as a small boy that the Cumberland would occasionally flood and water would be up to Second Avenue on Broadway….almost to Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge. Yes, Tootsie’s was there way back then just like the Grand Ole Opry. I do know that the Congress began authorizing damming of the many rivers and streams for flood control and hydro-electric power and many were built not only in Tennessee but in many parts of the country. When I use to crisscross this great country as a TWA pilot I began to take notice of all the dams that were in existence from the East coast to California….Thank you congress for doing something right. And thanks to President Eisenhower for the Interstate system.
Monday, May 3. It was all too apparent how much was lost by so many people. I would say almost two thirds were okay and another third lost everything. Our local TV stations were broadcasting the bad news continually and the local government and many organizations began to mobilize for the cleanup. It was amazing. Hands On Nashville, a non profit group had over 7000 people volunteer. The Red Cross volunteers gathered to help… Neighbors helped neighbors….a group of guys from my niece’s workplace came and helped her rip out water logged dry-board, carpets and flooring. Everything on the ground floor of her condo was destroyed and her car was a total loss. My good friend was doing the same to the downstairs of his big home and not getting anywhere, he said, when all of a sudden a group of sailors from the local recruiting station showed up to help him and by the end of the day the job was done. Soldiers came from Fort Campbell and others came from Chattanooga to help. Four of my cousins had homes and acreage on the Harpeth River and they lost everything. Think about it….you are 74 and you have lost all your worldly possessions….but no loss of life which they thank God for. But these are big loving families. They are all pulling together and I would guess by this time next year they will have rebuilt. My cousins daughter, although above the flood waters, had a giant pine tree uproot due to erosion and crash into her garage totaling her two autos and demolishing the roof of her house.
These are some of my stories. We all pitch in the best we can…..food, water, money…old clothing, furniture. I check the national/world news nightly and there was no mention of the Nashville flood. Notably absent in all of this was the lack of national media coverage. Here was a disaster in our own back yard. One of catastrophic proportions. But where was the media… no where to be found.
Later on national news coverage gave us about 5 minutes, but went back to focusing on a failed car bomb and an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. While both are clearly important stories, was that any reason to ignore our story?
I am so proud of my hometown and how everyone responded. Nashville is a big family….and families take care of their own. Here are some other observations by a local blogger…a sportswriter.
“But let’s look at the other side of the coin for a moment. A large part of the reason that we are being ignored is because of who we are. Think about that for just a second. Did you hear about looting? Did you hear about crime sprees? No…you didn’t. You heard about people pulling their neighbors off of rooftops. You saw a group of people trying to move two horses to higher ground. No…we didn’t loot. Our biggest warning was, “Don’t play in the floodwater.” When you think about it…that speaks a lot for our city. A large portion of why we were being ignored was that we weren’t doing anything to draw attention to ourselves. We were handling it on our own.
Parts of Nashville that could never even conceivably be underwater were underwater. Some of them still are. Opry Mills and the Opryland Hotel are, for all intents and purposes, destroyed. People died sitting in standstill traffic on the Interstate. I’m still having trouble comprehending all of it. We’ll be discussing the new Predators’ season with nary a thought of these past few days. But in a way, they changed everyone in this town. We now know that that it can happen to us…but also know that we can handle it.
Because we are Nashville"
FEMA is now in town and are setting up locations all over Nashville and the surrounding counties. But those affected have to file with FEMA. Where whole houses have floated away homeowners are marking their addresses on a piece of concrete or whatever to let all concerned know that a house once stood at this location.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Racing Thunder
Nick's T W A, Stories
Racing Thunderstorms
I was a DC-9 Captain flying out of St. Louis Lambert field. On this particular day our first takeoff was at 0700 (7:00 AM) bound for Little Rock with a crew of 5 (2 pilots and 3 Flight Attendants) and 66 passengers about 20 short of a full load. It was a beautiful morning in early Spring.....crisp, fresh morning air...a bit on the chilly side....but nice. There was a front approaching from the West forecast to pass St. Louis in the late afternoon. But no problem this morning all was clear "CAVU to the moon" (Ceiling and Visibility Unlimited) was pilot speak for a great day for aviating.
I flew this first leg which was somewhat customary. The First Officer would fly the next the return to St. Louis..
All was routine in and out of Little Rock. We were on time and flying with only a few empty seats. Once back in St. Louis my First Officer Bob and I went down to get the paper work for the trip (leg) to Madison, Wisconsin. The cold front was approaching St. Louis and I figured we would get airborne before it hit, if we didn't have a ground delay or a mechanical problem. The front was half way between Kansas City and St. Louis, about 100 miles to the West and moving about 50 miles per hour. Best guess it would be over STL or just past on our return trip from Madison. This being the case I told the Bob he could fly us to Madison and I would fly the leg back to Lambert field.
So off we go to Madison and boy it was a bit bumpy. We finally found a smooth altitude at 21,000 feet and closer in to Madison we went on down to 17,000 feet to find still air....only occasionally a bump or two.
On landing in Madison while taxing in to the gate I told the Bob to tell load control we wanted to top off to load which meant put on all the fuel possible that would keep us within takeoff and landing weight limits, in other words, "filler up". I was anticipating a hold of at least 45 minutes enroute to St. Louis and felt I needed all the fuel I could get. Fuel is brains as they say.
It was a quick turn and as we hadn't eaten much all day I sent the “A” flight attendant Patsy to buy a large pizza with the all the toppings.......so all of us could get the blood sugar back up. In a short time she was back and took the pizza into the first class galley and divided it up. About that time the gate agent announced he had almost a full load and wanted to start loading early. "What the…….Hey, bring'em on", was my reply as I wolfed down a slice.
So as the passengers were boarding, a lot of business men returning home to St. Louis.....all tired and bleary eyed but in good spirits. As they entered the aircraft they caught the aromatic scent of pizza and naturally assumed we were serving pizza instead of peanuts. The flight attendants had to do a lot of explaining as they took drink orders.
The agent came in a bit flustered and excited about not getting an on time departure. I said I don't have the fuel slip yet and we would go as soon as I had my copy. About that time the ramp mechanic came in with the fuel slip which showed only release fuel as ordered by dispatch. I confirmed with the F/O that we had radioed in our top off fuel request on landing. The gate agent was about to say they hadn't received it but since I was giving him the evil eye he swallowed hard and explained they had forgot to tell the fuel truck and the truck was gone. Departure time was here and it was the getting home leg so against my better judgment I acquiesced and said we would go with only release fuel just enough to get to destination with a half hour hold and fuel to our alternate Louisville, Kentucky.
So up, up and away and off toward Chicago and then on down to St. Louis. At cruise altitude the air was a bit bumpy, one of those rides where you get smooth air for one or two minutes and then bumps like you were going over railroad tracks. The flight attendants had been told to expedite the service and be ready to buckle up as we headed into St. Louis. "Ding Ding"....Captain the service is done" Patsy reported. "Way to go"' I shot back, "What did you do throw the drinks at 'em.....just kidding". "Great job now buckle up and we'll be home in 35 Minutes."
We had passed just to the southwest of O'Hare and were coming over Springfield Ill. Listening to the ATIS (Air Traffic Information System) for St. Louis Lambert field we discovered that there was a hold on departures and arrivals. Bob got the weather at our alternate Louisville and found it was "stinko". And as we might have expected Air Traffic Control called and gave us a clearance to route to a point 75 miles south of St. Louis and to hold with an expect further clearance in an hour. "Oh no", I said to the F/O "can't do that". Call dispatch and ask them where they want us since Louisville was below limits. There was a long pause as dispatch was trying to figure out where we should go.
The front was just crossing the St. Louis metropolitan area, and it was moving fast. There were thunderstorms in all quadrants plus tornadoes had been reported in southern Illinois just where we were. About that time the skies parted and I could see the airport at Springfield, Illinois 25,000 feet below us. I told ATC we wanted to change our destination and requested clearance directly to the airport at Springfield and since we could see the airport, a descent to a lower altitude and, oh yes, I would appreciate expediting my request. I told Bob to tell dispatch we were going to Springfield.
As ATC (Air Traffic Control) was fully aware of the extremely bad weather conditions they immediately gave us a vector to the outer marker for the north-south runway and a clearance to ten thousand feet. I made an announcement to the passengers about the plan and that we were diverting to Springfield since St. Louis was closed due to thunderstorms. I turned on the seat belt sign and rang Sally and told her to secure the galleys and prepare the cabin for landing now since it's going to be bumpy from here on into the airport.
Trying to be as smooth as possible I pushed the nose over and began a dive to ten thousand feet. I could still see the ground although the skies around us were full of ominous looking black clouds. Our radar was working well, thank God, so I could see that the headings the controllers were giving me were between thunderstorm cells.
Reaching 10,000 feet I began to slow to 250 knots and requested a lower altitude and a vector to the airport. It appeared that the field ceiling was above three thousand feet and our radar showed thunderstorm cells all around us. The controller cleared me to twenty-one hundred feet with a heading toward the outer marker for runway 18. At 250 knots I kept on going to 2100 feet. At altitude and about 10 miles from the field I could see the field and could also see that there was a cell about 10 miles southwest and racing toward the field. I was intercepting the localizer for the runway and about 7 miles from the runway. The controller cleared me to tower control. As soon as I spoke to tower control he told me about the cell southwest which was approaching the airport. I "rogered" that and the race was now on. I pulled back the throttles extended the speed brakes and slowing to 210 knots told Bob to lower the landing gear. Now on approach and still slowing the flaps were extended as speed allowed. And at about 500 feet we were in stabilized flight and lined up with the runway. As the DC-9 crossed the runway threshold we were 130 knots on speed. lined up and cleared to land. Bob reported "Final check list complete" and we touched down on speed on a runway covered with water. Full reverse thrust was applied and the DC-9 slowed as I firmly applied the brakes with the clicking of the anti-kid faintly heard in the background as the brakes released and reapplied to prevent skidding. The plane handled like a charm even on a very wet runway.
I mentioned to Bob that we had won the race as the thunderstorm cell was now upon us and we were safe on the ground.
We were told to park out on the ramp and they wanted to know what were my intentions. I said I would come in and check the weather and make a decision then. I parked on the ramp and with the APU Auxiliary Power Unit) running we shut down the engines and breathed a sigh of relief. This afternoon it was great to be on the ground as the angry skies around us roared, through lightning bolts to the north and the south and torrents of rain coming down. About that time a ramp vehicle came out to pick me up. I left Bob in charge and headed for the cockpit door. As I entered first class there was light applause and some muffled cheers. They too were happy to be on the ground in this terrible weather. I picked up the PA, told them I was going in to check the weather and that we would proceed on to St. Louis when the front had passed. They all understood and were especially happy when I told the folks that the drinks were on the house.
So I checked the weather and the front had gone by us and Lambert field.. I filed a the flight plan to St. Louis and we were soon on our way. Bob flew us back home. It was his leg.
Moral to the story. Stick to your well thought out plan and don't let "get home-itus" affect your decision making. If you need more fuel get it even if it means no on time departure. Capt. Nick Nicholson, TWA Ret.
Racing Thunderstorms
I was a DC-9 Captain flying out of St. Louis Lambert field. On this particular day our first takeoff was at 0700 (7:00 AM) bound for Little Rock with a crew of 5 (2 pilots and 3 Flight Attendants) and 66 passengers about 20 short of a full load. It was a beautiful morning in early Spring.....crisp, fresh morning air...a bit on the chilly side....but nice. There was a front approaching from the West forecast to pass St. Louis in the late afternoon. But no problem this morning all was clear "CAVU to the moon" (Ceiling and Visibility Unlimited) was pilot speak for a great day for aviating.
I flew this first leg which was somewhat customary. The First Officer would fly the next the return to St. Louis..
All was routine in and out of Little Rock. We were on time and flying with only a few empty seats. Once back in St. Louis my First Officer Bob and I went down to get the paper work for the trip (leg) to Madison, Wisconsin. The cold front was approaching St. Louis and I figured we would get airborne before it hit, if we didn't have a ground delay or a mechanical problem. The front was half way between Kansas City and St. Louis, about 100 miles to the West and moving about 50 miles per hour. Best guess it would be over STL or just past on our return trip from Madison. This being the case I told the Bob he could fly us to Madison and I would fly the leg back to Lambert field.
So off we go to Madison and boy it was a bit bumpy. We finally found a smooth altitude at 21,000 feet and closer in to Madison we went on down to 17,000 feet to find still air....only occasionally a bump or two.
On landing in Madison while taxing in to the gate I told the Bob to tell load control we wanted to top off to load which meant put on all the fuel possible that would keep us within takeoff and landing weight limits, in other words, "filler up". I was anticipating a hold of at least 45 minutes enroute to St. Louis and felt I needed all the fuel I could get. Fuel is brains as they say.
It was a quick turn and as we hadn't eaten much all day I sent the “A” flight attendant Patsy to buy a large pizza with the all the toppings.......so all of us could get the blood sugar back up. In a short time she was back and took the pizza into the first class galley and divided it up. About that time the gate agent announced he had almost a full load and wanted to start loading early. "What the…….Hey, bring'em on", was my reply as I wolfed down a slice.
So as the passengers were boarding, a lot of business men returning home to St. Louis.....all tired and bleary eyed but in good spirits. As they entered the aircraft they caught the aromatic scent of pizza and naturally assumed we were serving pizza instead of peanuts. The flight attendants had to do a lot of explaining as they took drink orders.
The agent came in a bit flustered and excited about not getting an on time departure. I said I don't have the fuel slip yet and we would go as soon as I had my copy. About that time the ramp mechanic came in with the fuel slip which showed only release fuel as ordered by dispatch. I confirmed with the F/O that we had radioed in our top off fuel request on landing. The gate agent was about to say they hadn't received it but since I was giving him the evil eye he swallowed hard and explained they had forgot to tell the fuel truck and the truck was gone. Departure time was here and it was the getting home leg so against my better judgment I acquiesced and said we would go with only release fuel just enough to get to destination with a half hour hold and fuel to our alternate Louisville, Kentucky.
So up, up and away and off toward Chicago and then on down to St. Louis. At cruise altitude the air was a bit bumpy, one of those rides where you get smooth air for one or two minutes and then bumps like you were going over railroad tracks. The flight attendants had been told to expedite the service and be ready to buckle up as we headed into St. Louis. "Ding Ding"....Captain the service is done" Patsy reported. "Way to go"' I shot back, "What did you do throw the drinks at 'em.....just kidding". "Great job now buckle up and we'll be home in 35 Minutes."
We had passed just to the southwest of O'Hare and were coming over Springfield Ill. Listening to the ATIS (Air Traffic Information System) for St. Louis Lambert field we discovered that there was a hold on departures and arrivals. Bob got the weather at our alternate Louisville and found it was "stinko". And as we might have expected Air Traffic Control called and gave us a clearance to route to a point 75 miles south of St. Louis and to hold with an expect further clearance in an hour. "Oh no", I said to the F/O "can't do that". Call dispatch and ask them where they want us since Louisville was below limits. There was a long pause as dispatch was trying to figure out where we should go.
The front was just crossing the St. Louis metropolitan area, and it was moving fast. There were thunderstorms in all quadrants plus tornadoes had been reported in southern Illinois just where we were. About that time the skies parted and I could see the airport at Springfield, Illinois 25,000 feet below us. I told ATC we wanted to change our destination and requested clearance directly to the airport at Springfield and since we could see the airport, a descent to a lower altitude and, oh yes, I would appreciate expediting my request. I told Bob to tell dispatch we were going to Springfield.
As ATC (Air Traffic Control) was fully aware of the extremely bad weather conditions they immediately gave us a vector to the outer marker for the north-south runway and a clearance to ten thousand feet. I made an announcement to the passengers about the plan and that we were diverting to Springfield since St. Louis was closed due to thunderstorms. I turned on the seat belt sign and rang Sally and told her to secure the galleys and prepare the cabin for landing now since it's going to be bumpy from here on into the airport.
Trying to be as smooth as possible I pushed the nose over and began a dive to ten thousand feet. I could still see the ground although the skies around us were full of ominous looking black clouds. Our radar was working well, thank God, so I could see that the headings the controllers were giving me were between thunderstorm cells.
Reaching 10,000 feet I began to slow to 250 knots and requested a lower altitude and a vector to the airport. It appeared that the field ceiling was above three thousand feet and our radar showed thunderstorm cells all around us. The controller cleared me to twenty-one hundred feet with a heading toward the outer marker for runway 18. At 250 knots I kept on going to 2100 feet. At altitude and about 10 miles from the field I could see the field and could also see that there was a cell about 10 miles southwest and racing toward the field. I was intercepting the localizer for the runway and about 7 miles from the runway. The controller cleared me to tower control. As soon as I spoke to tower control he told me about the cell southwest which was approaching the airport. I "rogered" that and the race was now on. I pulled back the throttles extended the speed brakes and slowing to 210 knots told Bob to lower the landing gear. Now on approach and still slowing the flaps were extended as speed allowed. And at about 500 feet we were in stabilized flight and lined up with the runway. As the DC-9 crossed the runway threshold we were 130 knots on speed. lined up and cleared to land. Bob reported "Final check list complete" and we touched down on speed on a runway covered with water. Full reverse thrust was applied and the DC-9 slowed as I firmly applied the brakes with the clicking of the anti-kid faintly heard in the background as the brakes released and reapplied to prevent skidding. The plane handled like a charm even on a very wet runway.
I mentioned to Bob that we had won the race as the thunderstorm cell was now upon us and we were safe on the ground.
We were told to park out on the ramp and they wanted to know what were my intentions. I said I would come in and check the weather and make a decision then. I parked on the ramp and with the APU Auxiliary Power Unit) running we shut down the engines and breathed a sigh of relief. This afternoon it was great to be on the ground as the angry skies around us roared, through lightning bolts to the north and the south and torrents of rain coming down. About that time a ramp vehicle came out to pick me up. I left Bob in charge and headed for the cockpit door. As I entered first class there was light applause and some muffled cheers. They too were happy to be on the ground in this terrible weather. I picked up the PA, told them I was going in to check the weather and that we would proceed on to St. Louis when the front had passed. They all understood and were especially happy when I told the folks that the drinks were on the house.
So I checked the weather and the front had gone by us and Lambert field.. I filed a the flight plan to St. Louis and we were soon on our way. Bob flew us back home. It was his leg.
Moral to the story. Stick to your well thought out plan and don't let "get home-itus" affect your decision making. If you need more fuel get it even if it means no on time departure. Capt. Nick Nicholson, TWA Ret.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Nick to Madid to fight los toros.
Nick's stories from the Flight Engineer desk
Madrid Layover
It was 31 May 1967 when TWA flight 904 taxied out and took off for Madrid, Spain at 1855 in a big straight pipe Boeing 707-331, tail number N7663TW. It was a beautiful night for aviating and as usually happened with a full load of passengers the flight was runninga bit late. Captain Cliff Barrow was in command. He was a gentleman's pilot who wouldn't say you know what even if he had a mouthful. The First Officer was Dick Rowen who had joined the airline after flying multi-engine transports in the Air Force. He was a very capable pilot with a somewhat wry sense of humor. Yours truly was manning the Flight Engineer station, as was often said "riding sidesaddle". I had come onboard from the Navy having flown the Douglas A4D Skyhawk for four years. I had always wanted to be an airline pilot since a young boy. My dad would take the family on a Sunday ride to Berry field in Nashville (BNA) just to watch the airplanes take off and land. On one occasion I vividly remember an American Airlines DC 6 taxing up to the terminal. The Captain had his cockpit window open and after parking he shouted a hello to the mechanic and reached out to get his flight plan for the next leg. I do believe this image stuck with me and so from then on I dreamed of being an airline captain. Many years later as a teenager and during world war II, I saw an ad on the back cover of Time magazine, an ad for Navy Air showing a pilot looking out of the cockpit of his Corsair on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. He had a big mustached grin and was wearing his leather flight hat. The ad stated, "Join the Navy and see the World", and so again I began to dream of someday being a Navy pilot, and for some reason it had to be Navy not Air Force.
After passing over Nantucket island climbing to an initial altitude of 29,000 feet, later on we would request 33,000 feet for the Atlantic crossing, and reading the check list the cockpit overhead lights were turned on dim and Cliff and Dick began to discuss what was being served for dinner in first class. Although there were crew meals on board the cockpit would be offered any leftovers being served to the first class passengers. Commissary always loaded more then enough food so we were sure we would be eating First Class. The first class meal service on TWA was superb, fit for a king. So, what will it be, Chateau Briand and baked potato
, Sole Menieure with cream of spinach or rack of lamb with mint jelly? This conversation was making me hungry since I had'nt eaten since the greasy burger I ate in the cafeteria at five o'clock. Soon there was the secret two knocks on the cockpit door. I opened it and in came a cheery flight attendant named Patsy who wanted to know if we wanted coffee, tea or .................. with a naughty smile and a wink of the eye.................. "or a cold drink." The first Officer replied, "you left out a backrub". The repartee between the flight attendants and cockpit crew would have the ladies at the quilting bee looking at each other with eyebrows raised. In later years water replaced Cokes for many. Also cigarettes went by the wayside but not the inter crew banter.
Patsy took our orders, left the First Class menu for our perusal. and as she headed out the door she smilingly remarked, "Boy, you pilots sure have it good", and at this point I had to agree. She soon returned with our drinks and some snacks. A little while later she came in pushing the hors d'oveurs cart and offered us a choice of shrimp cocktail, caviar with the extras or an assortment of cheeses and fresh fruit. After a great meal and about two hours in the flight having eaten our fill and well sated, flight 904 was approaching Halifax, Nova Scotia. This would be the starting point for the oceanic crossing Our
routing this night would take us about 60 miles north of the Azores then over the northwest tip of the Iberian peninsula and on in to Barajas airfield, Madrid. Our clearance had been received from Gander Oceanic control and the first two legs course and distance had been set in the doppler and checked. As we passed over Halifax we gave out position report and estimate for 50 degrees West longitude. Soon we would be out of VHF radio range and would have to make position reports on the HF high frequency radio. I as the flight engineer would make these position reports and I hoped we would find a good frequency with minimal static. If not you could hear me in loud voice shouting, "Gander, Gander, Gander, TWA 904 50 West postion." After several tries you might hear from Gander if not then maybe Shannon oceanic or Santa Maria oceanic would pickup. If one of the latter two replied we would ask them to relay to Gander.
We had reached our crossing altitude of 33,000 feet which had been forecast to be a smooth ride. For the crossing Dick would be taking and plotting our positions using the LORAN and I monitoring the aircraft systems and managing the fuel. Here it was a clear night and the stars were bright. To the North you might be able to see the aurora borealis and to the South the constallation Orion. After the meal service was done the flight attendants would come up to say "Hi" and if they liked the cockpit crew hang around and chat a bit. Sometimes the subject might be about the Madrid layover......where to go....where to eat.....where the best shopping bargains were. And believe me the ladies knew where the deals were. One gal told me about a little shop up behind the hotel that discounted its' Lladro figurines to TWA crew by as much as twenty-five percent. They also wanted to know what time we were landing and what the weather was forcast to be. They hadn't heard a word the captain had said in his announcement to the passengers just after reaching cruise altitude. One young lady who I believe didn't like to fly (she just enjoyed the shopping on the layovers) asked me, Nick, "Are we in for a smooth flight tonight." I assured her we were and she seemed to relax.
So far tonight the ride was smooth but occasionally there might be a bump or two. These bumps might be associated with thunderstorms below us or a change in wind direction or as we would say in the Navy an "atmospheric phenomenon". Some of the clear air turbulence (CAT) was not forecast but studying the weather maps in planning the dispatcher could show where there might be a good chance of some bumpy air. Pilots didn't like to use the word "turbulence" when talking to the passengers so it was "Folks, I have turned the seat belt sign on for a bit. while in this bumpy air..... it should smooth out shortly and be a nice ride on into Madrid". If the turbulence was a little more than light we would ding the flight attendants and have them stop there service and take a seat. This would invariably bring one or two attendants to the cockpit wanting to know how long the turbulence was going to last. The stock reply was, "Oh, about ten minutes."
Dick was working diligently over the LORAN with head bent over looking into the black tube which shielded the LORAN screen. On this particular night the atmospheric conditions were such that we could only pick up two LORAN stations and one of those faded in and out and was felt to be a bit unreliable. Occasionally Cliff would ask to see the chart. The position fixes showed we were going off course to the left. So Cliff suggested putting in a 10 mile offset correction to the left which would bring us back on
course. Dick put in the correction and the autopilot turned the 707 oh so slowly to the right to bring us back on course. By this time most of the passengers would be asleep and I doubt that they even sensed the aircraft was turning. As we came closer to the Azores we would be able to pickup a low frequency radio beacon (NDB). At about 200 miles from Santa Maria we tuned in Flores radio and the needle pointed to the right of our nose about ten degrees. This being the case and using the good Loran station the fix showed us about 20 right of course. Cliff put in another 20 mile offset correction and once we were approaching landfall in Spain we picked up a radio beacon. When the needle locked on it showed that we were right on course.
Madrid Layover
Our first layover was in Madrid. This was the first layover of a five day trip with other layovers in Rome, Cairo, and Frankfurt before returning to New York on 5 June.
We landed at 0723 local time and after clearing customs and immigration all went out to meet the crew bus and watch our bags being loaded on the bus. Once done some of us tipped the porters and we were on our way to La Plaza Hotel in downtown Madrid. It was about a 45 minute ride in traffic so many took cat naps while others just stared out at the hustle and bustle on streets of the city.
Once the bus arrived we were met by one of the hotel porters with his helper with baggage cart. Also we were met by Jose, a swarthy looking local hustler who had a very pleasant demeanor and an eye for the ladies. This particular day he was offering the crew an excursion to the country side for some horseback riding and late lunch in the riding academy cantina. Although tired a number of the crew agreed to gather in the lobby at 2 pm and Jose would take us on the horseback riding excursion. I don’t recall if there was a charge for his services, maybe a tip or two, but I do remember Jose did enjoy being around the ladies and he delivered as promised.
As all were tired, some a bit more red eyed then others, we went into the hotel to check in. As usual the flight attendants knew which were the best rooms and they scurried past Cliff, Dick and I to the front of the line at the crew check in desk asking for room number such and such. However, the captain of the flight was well respected, as was customary in Europe, and his name and room assignment was called first. Cliff reached over the heads of those in front of him and took his key and coupon for a complimentary drink. and headed for the elevator. Dick and I got our keys next and as we left the others I stated, “All those going horseback riding meet on the N floor at two”. On these layovers you never knew who was going to show up. Sometimes all did and sometimes none.
I remember a Madrid layover many years later when I was flying as the Fist Officer on the 747. The cabin crew consisted of twelve flight attendants on the 747. As I spoke Spanish, had many layovers in Madrid and knew the town about as well as I knew my hometown, I announced to all waiting to get their room keys, “ Anyone who wants to go out for dinner to the old part of Madrid, meet in the lobby at six.” Well this was during a flight attendant strike and the cabin crew were all new. So, much to my surprise all 12 cabin crew showed up at six in the lobby along with the captain . I took all outside and ordered five taxis and gave instructions to the cabbies to take his passengers to Las Cuevas area which was in the Plaza mayor. We had a great time trying out the tapas at the many cafes around the Plaza enjoying the Spanish night life...... I digress.....
Cliff and Dick were a little late in arriving on the “N” floor for our tour. I arrived and found that there were four of our female crew sipping their coffees and debating whether to go shopping or horseback riding. As they would be back in Madrid two more layovers that month they decided the shopping could wait. So Jose was waiting outside the hotel with a stretch limo and so the tour began and it was off to the Spanish countryside.
Ride'em cowboy!
Stable horses are all the same. You have to goad them on the ride out from the stable.tugging the reins to keep them on the trail. All our horses were pretty docile. The stable hand made sure of this, especillay for the girls. Occasionally Dick or I would have to come to the aid of a flight attendant who was having trouble keeping her horse on the trail. Once it had been decided that we had traveled far enough and were getting saddle sore we turned and started back. Once headed toward the barn the horses perked up and we had to rein them in so as to return at a trot instead of a gallop.
Once the horses were put up we all headed for the restaurant. Jose had arranged for a typical Spanish mid day meal which consisted of paella, gambas ajillo, ensallada verde , and pan and plenty of sangria to wash it down. The food was delicious and tasty especially if you liked garlic. There was an unwritten rule in the cockpit that if one was going to eat garlic then all would eat garlic. The conversation around the table was lively and animated especially when recanting the happenings of that afternoon on the trail. After eating we passed the hat and all chipped in for the dinner, Cliff paid for the sangria and Dick and I took the money and bill to pay at the maitre di stand. The owner. a very jovial older man was waiting for us with a big smile and in part broken english and spanish thanked us and wished us good luck, "Gooda lock y que tenga un buen viaje". He looked toward Jose and with a wink of the eye and a smile he thanked him too. I am sure Jose got a little more then a thank you from him.
As Dick and I turned to join the group I noticed there was a small bull ring off to the left of the front of the restaurant about thirty meters away. Three tour buses pulled up loaded to the gills with tourists. They all unloaded and headed toward the ring. I turned to Jose and asked what was going on. He explained that this farm also raised baby bulls for the bull fights in Madrid and in few minutes they would bring out a couple of baby bulls to show. I turned to Dick, “Hey partner, let’s go check it out” So out we went and took a spot on the wall.
Pilotos Locos
Two small "baby" bulls were trotted out. “You ever fight a bull, Dick?” I shouted with a bit of the sangria starting to kick in. “No, he said but you know they dont’s look that big.” “Let’s go” I shouted and jumped in the ring with Dick right behind me. There was a cheer from the gathered turistas and the cabin crew that had come out to watch the show. “Hey, these bulls don’t look like baby bulls” I stammered. About that time one bull eyed Dick and the other glared at me and as if on cue both lowered their heads, pawed at the dirt, snorted and headed our way in full charge mode. And we too, as if on cue, turned tail and scrambled up and over the wall. The audience laughed and cheered and a few shouted “ole“
As I scrambled over the wall I cut my ankle on a piece of metal. Not much damage done but my ego was somewhat besmirched. The restaurant owner administered first aid and bandaged my cut and with a smile and a grin said "Adios, caballero de la corrida" . For the remainder of the trip when asked about my bandaged ankle I would reply with a grin , “I injured it fighting the bulls in Madrid”. I do know from that day on I had great admiration for the toreadors of Spain.
Murray "Nick" Nicholson, TWA Captain, Ret. 24 March 2007

Madrid Layover
It was 31 May 1967 when TWA flight 904 taxied out and took off for Madrid, Spain at 1855 in a big straight pipe Boeing 707-331, tail number N7663TW. It was a beautiful night for aviating and as usually happened with a full load of passengers the flight was runninga bit late. Captain Cliff Barrow was in command. He was a gentleman's pilot who wouldn't say you know what even if he had a mouthful. The First Officer was Dick Rowen who had joined the airline after flying multi-engine transports in the Air Force. He was a very capable pilot with a somewhat wry sense of humor. Yours truly was manning the Flight Engineer station, as was often said "riding sidesaddle". I had come onboard from the Navy having flown the Douglas A4D Skyhawk for four years. I had always wanted to be an airline pilot since a young boy. My dad would take the family on a Sunday ride to Berry field in Nashville (BNA) just to watch the airplanes take off and land. On one occasion I vividly remember an American Airlines DC 6 taxing up to the terminal. The Captain had his cockpit window open and after parking he shouted a hello to the mechanic and reached out to get his flight plan for the next leg. I do believe this image stuck with me and so from then on I dreamed of being an airline captain. Many years later as a teenager and during world war II, I saw an ad on the back cover of Time magazine, an ad for Navy Air showing a pilot looking out of the cockpit of his Corsair on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. He had a big mustached grin and was wearing his leather flight hat. The ad stated, "Join the Navy and see the World", and so again I began to dream of someday being a Navy pilot, and for some reason it had to be Navy not Air Force.
After passing over Nantucket island climbing to an initial altitude of 29,000 feet, later on we would request 33,000 feet for the Atlantic crossing, and reading the check list the cockpit overhead lights were turned on dim and Cliff and Dick began to discuss what was being served for dinner in first class. Although there were crew meals on board the cockpit would be offered any leftovers being served to the first class passengers. Commissary always loaded more then enough food so we were sure we would be eating First Class. The first class meal service on TWA was superb, fit for a king. So, what will it be, Chateau Briand and baked potato
, Sole Menieure with cream of spinach or rack of lamb with mint jelly? This conversation was making me hungry since I had'nt eaten since the greasy burger I ate in the cafeteria at five o'clock. Soon there was the secret two knocks on the cockpit door. I opened it and in came a cheery flight attendant named Patsy who wanted to know if we wanted coffee, tea or .................. with a naughty smile and a wink of the eye.................. "or a cold drink." The first Officer replied, "you left out a backrub". The repartee between the flight attendants and cockpit crew would have the ladies at the quilting bee looking at each other with eyebrows raised. In later years water replaced Cokes for many. Also cigarettes went by the wayside but not the inter crew banter.
Patsy took our orders, left the First Class menu for our perusal. and as she headed out the door she smilingly remarked, "Boy, you pilots sure have it good", and at this point I had to agree. She soon returned with our drinks and some snacks. A little while later she came in pushing the hors d'oveurs cart and offered us a choice of shrimp cocktail, caviar with the extras or an assortment of cheeses and fresh fruit. After a great meal and about two hours in the flight having eaten our fill and well sated, flight 904 was approaching Halifax, Nova Scotia. This would be the starting point for the oceanic crossing Our
routing this night would take us about 60 miles north of the Azores then over the northwest tip of the Iberian peninsula and on in to Barajas airfield, Madrid. Our clearance had been received from Gander Oceanic control and the first two legs course and distance had been set in the doppler and checked. As we passed over Halifax we gave out position report and estimate for 50 degrees West longitude. Soon we would be out of VHF radio range and would have to make position reports on the HF high frequency radio. I as the flight engineer would make these position reports and I hoped we would find a good frequency with minimal static. If not you could hear me in loud voice shouting, "Gander, Gander, Gander, TWA 904 50 West postion." After several tries you might hear from Gander if not then maybe Shannon oceanic or Santa Maria oceanic would pickup. If one of the latter two replied we would ask them to relay to Gander.
We had reached our crossing altitude of 33,000 feet which had been forecast to be a smooth ride. For the crossing Dick would be taking and plotting our positions using the LORAN and I monitoring the aircraft systems and managing the fuel. Here it was a clear night and the stars were bright. To the North you might be able to see the aurora borealis and to the South the constallation Orion. After the meal service was done the flight attendants would come up to say "Hi" and if they liked the cockpit crew hang around and chat a bit. Sometimes the subject might be about the Madrid layover......where to go....where to eat.....where the best shopping bargains were. And believe me the ladies knew where the deals were. One gal told me about a little shop up behind the hotel that discounted its' Lladro figurines to TWA crew by as much as twenty-five percent. They also wanted to know what time we were landing and what the weather was forcast to be. They hadn't heard a word the captain had said in his announcement to the passengers just after reaching cruise altitude. One young lady who I believe didn't like to fly (she just enjoyed the shopping on the layovers) asked me, Nick, "Are we in for a smooth flight tonight." I assured her we were and she seemed to relax.
So far tonight the ride was smooth but occasionally there might be a bump or two. These bumps might be associated with thunderstorms below us or a change in wind direction or as we would say in the Navy an "atmospheric phenomenon". Some of the clear air turbulence (CAT) was not forecast but studying the weather maps in planning the dispatcher could show where there might be a good chance of some bumpy air. Pilots didn't like to use the word "turbulence" when talking to the passengers so it was "Folks, I have turned the seat belt sign on for a bit. while in this bumpy air..... it should smooth out shortly and be a nice ride on into Madrid". If the turbulence was a little more than light we would ding the flight attendants and have them stop there service and take a seat. This would invariably bring one or two attendants to the cockpit wanting to know how long the turbulence was going to last. The stock reply was, "Oh, about ten minutes."
Dick was working diligently over the LORAN with head bent over looking into the black tube which shielded the LORAN screen. On this particular night the atmospheric conditions were such that we could only pick up two LORAN stations and one of those faded in and out and was felt to be a bit unreliable. Occasionally Cliff would ask to see the chart. The position fixes showed we were going off course to the left. So Cliff suggested putting in a 10 mile offset correction to the left which would bring us back on
course. Dick put in the correction and the autopilot turned the 707 oh so slowly to the right to bring us back on course. By this time most of the passengers would be asleep and I doubt that they even sensed the aircraft was turning. As we came closer to the Azores we would be able to pickup a low frequency radio beacon (NDB). At about 200 miles from Santa Maria we tuned in Flores radio and the needle pointed to the right of our nose about ten degrees. This being the case and using the good Loran station the fix showed us about 20 right of course. Cliff put in another 20 mile offset correction and once we were approaching landfall in Spain we picked up a radio beacon. When the needle locked on it showed that we were right on course.
Madrid Layover
Our first layover was in Madrid. This was the first layover of a five day trip with other layovers in Rome, Cairo, and Frankfurt before returning to New York on 5 June.
We landed at 0723 local time and after clearing customs and immigration all went out to meet the crew bus and watch our bags being loaded on the bus. Once done some of us tipped the porters and we were on our way to La Plaza Hotel in downtown Madrid. It was about a 45 minute ride in traffic so many took cat naps while others just stared out at the hustle and bustle on streets of the city.
Once the bus arrived we were met by one of the hotel porters with his helper with baggage cart. Also we were met by Jose, a swarthy looking local hustler who had a very pleasant demeanor and an eye for the ladies. This particular day he was offering the crew an excursion to the country side for some horseback riding and late lunch in the riding academy cantina. Although tired a number of the crew agreed to gather in the lobby at 2 pm and Jose would take us on the horseback riding excursion. I don’t recall if there was a charge for his services, maybe a tip or two, but I do remember Jose did enjoy being around the ladies and he delivered as promised.
As all were tired, some a bit more red eyed then others, we went into the hotel to check in. As usual the flight attendants knew which were the best rooms and they scurried past Cliff, Dick and I to the front of the line at the crew check in desk asking for room number such and such. However, the captain of the flight was well respected, as was customary in Europe, and his name and room assignment was called first. Cliff reached over the heads of those in front of him and took his key and coupon for a complimentary drink. and headed for the elevator. Dick and I got our keys next and as we left the others I stated, “All those going horseback riding meet on the N floor at two”. On these layovers you never knew who was going to show up. Sometimes all did and sometimes none.
I remember a Madrid layover many years later when I was flying as the Fist Officer on the 747. The cabin crew consisted of twelve flight attendants on the 747. As I spoke Spanish, had many layovers in Madrid and knew the town about as well as I knew my hometown, I announced to all waiting to get their room keys, “ Anyone who wants to go out for dinner to the old part of Madrid, meet in the lobby at six.” Well this was during a flight attendant strike and the cabin crew were all new. So, much to my surprise all 12 cabin crew showed up at six in the lobby along with the captain . I took all outside and ordered five taxis and gave instructions to the cabbies to take his passengers to Las Cuevas area which was in the Plaza mayor. We had a great time trying out the tapas at the many cafes around the Plaza enjoying the Spanish night life...... I digress.....
Cliff and Dick were a little late in arriving on the “N” floor for our tour. I arrived and found that there were four of our female crew sipping their coffees and debating whether to go shopping or horseback riding. As they would be back in Madrid two more layovers that month they decided the shopping could wait. So Jose was waiting outside the hotel with a stretch limo and so the tour began and it was off to the Spanish countryside.
Ride'em cowboy!
Stable horses are all the same. You have to goad them on the ride out from the stable.tugging the reins to keep them on the trail. All our horses were pretty docile. The stable hand made sure of this, especillay for the girls. Occasionally Dick or I would have to come to the aid of a flight attendant who was having trouble keeping her horse on the trail. Once it had been decided that we had traveled far enough and were getting saddle sore we turned and started back. Once headed toward the barn the horses perked up and we had to rein them in so as to return at a trot instead of a gallop.
Once the horses were put up we all headed for the restaurant. Jose had arranged for a typical Spanish mid day meal which consisted of paella, gambas ajillo, ensallada verde , and pan and plenty of sangria to wash it down. The food was delicious and tasty especially if you liked garlic. There was an unwritten rule in the cockpit that if one was going to eat garlic then all would eat garlic. The conversation around the table was lively and animated especially when recanting the happenings of that afternoon on the trail. After eating we passed the hat and all chipped in for the dinner, Cliff paid for the sangria and Dick and I took the money and bill to pay at the maitre di stand. The owner. a very jovial older man was waiting for us with a big smile and in part broken english and spanish thanked us and wished us good luck, "Gooda lock y que tenga un buen viaje". He looked toward Jose and with a wink of the eye and a smile he thanked him too. I am sure Jose got a little more then a thank you from him.
As Dick and I turned to join the group I noticed there was a small bull ring off to the left of the front of the restaurant about thirty meters away. Three tour buses pulled up loaded to the gills with tourists. They all unloaded and headed toward the ring. I turned to Jose and asked what was going on. He explained that this farm also raised baby bulls for the bull fights in Madrid and in few minutes they would bring out a couple of baby bulls to show. I turned to Dick, “Hey partner, let’s go check it out” So out we went and took a spot on the wall.
Pilotos Locos
Two small "baby" bulls were trotted out. “You ever fight a bull, Dick?” I shouted with a bit of the sangria starting to kick in. “No, he said but you know they dont’s look that big.” “Let’s go” I shouted and jumped in the ring with Dick right behind me. There was a cheer from the gathered turistas and the cabin crew that had come out to watch the show. “Hey, these bulls don’t look like baby bulls” I stammered. About that time one bull eyed Dick and the other glared at me and as if on cue both lowered their heads, pawed at the dirt, snorted and headed our way in full charge mode. And we too, as if on cue, turned tail and scrambled up and over the wall. The audience laughed and cheered and a few shouted “ole“
As I scrambled over the wall I cut my ankle on a piece of metal. Not much damage done but my ego was somewhat besmirched. The restaurant owner administered first aid and bandaged my cut and with a smile and a grin said "Adios, caballero de la corrida" . For the remainder of the trip when asked about my bandaged ankle I would reply with a grin , “I injured it fighting the bulls in Madrid”. I do know from that day on I had great admiration for the toreadors of Spain.
Murray "Nick" Nicholson, TWA Captain, Ret. 24 March 2007

Saturday, December 20, 2008
Flying with Bill & Norm to Nam
Travel with Angels
I just read that Bill Hawkins had passed away (flown West). Bill was one of my favorite people, a big, somewhat husky fellow who always had a big smile and a story to tell.
I first met Bill on one of my first flights as a flight engineer. I was a 33 year old Navy jet jockey and Bill was a 26 year old pilot from South Carolina who had gained his experience as a general aviation pilot. We both developed a sort of mutual admiration society and enjoyed hearing the stories each of us would tell about our piloting experiences.
We were assigned to a MAC charter that the airline flew for the government flying the troops to Viet Nam. We were with a salty ole dog, WW II veteran, Captain Norm Portman. Anyway Norm did things his way. He had logged thousands of hours and he seemed to have no use for two young pilots just hired on by the airline. Pilots are taught to use check lists, Before Starting Engines, After Starting Engines, Taxi, Before Take-off and so on. Well Norm was not having any of this. He would go through his checks and then look out the window. Bill and I would read the check list to each other out loud which irked him to the point that he totally ignored us on the first leg from Travis Air Force base to Oahu , Hawaii where we would layover. The first layover was in San Francisco. We had deadheaded from New York to San Fran and then the next day we started our trip to Viet Nam.
So Norm barely said two words to us for the first two days. On layover he would disappear and not be seen again until the next day pickup at the hotel. So our third leg of our trip was an all night cargo flight departing at 1700 from Oahu and flying all night to Wake Island and then on to Okinawa. A long, long night and Norm was still keeping to himself and not saying much while Bill and I did the check lists and told our stories.
A long haul over the Pacific Ocean to Wake and we were all tiring. After unloading some cargo and taking on more fuel we headed for Okinawa. On taxi out Norm turned to Bill and in an almost inaudible low voice said "You fly us to Okinawa". Bill was a little taken aback but eagerly took his turn and did an admirable job piloting the 707-373C (even if he was a young pilot). So after five and a half hours enroute we touched down at Kadena, AFB, Okinawa, read the check lists, signed the log book and headed for the hotel.
Layover Okinawa
We were staying in a brand new hotel that had been build to handle all of the airline crews that were flying MATS charters and laying over in Kadena. So we checked in, got our room keys and headed up to our rooms. As we headed for the elevator Norm turned to the lady manager and asked, "Do you have a restaurant?" She replied quite shyly "yes, Captain" "Is `it open?", "No, Captain san". “Well open it". “Yes, Captain san”, she said bowing and a bit upset but showing true Japanese courtesy and subservience to a power figure. Norm turned to Bill and me and said, "You fellas gotta beer drinking shirt in your bag?" “Yes sir”, we replied almost in unison. "Well, get it on and I will see you down here in the restaurant in fifteen minutes". And as good pilots responsive to the Captains wishes we showed up as ordered.
So we started debriefing while consuming a fair amount of Orion beer. (I learned my first Japanese, how to order three beers, "san Orion"). The more we consumed and talked the more brazen Bill and I became. Norm was an excellent pilot but I, the lowly flight engineer, announced that I could fly that 707 as good as he could and probably even better. As Flight Engineers we did have to demonstrate our piloting abilities, after all we were not expected nor did we want to stay flight engineers forever. I did have a natural ability and could upon occasion touchdown so lightly upon landing that you didn’t know you were on the ground. So Norm took me up on the dare and said, “OK, you're flying us to Saigon.". I thought now I had done it. He was calling my bluff and I was going to have to put up or shut up. Of course this was against the rules but Norm was very convincing. So as we all laughed at the prospect of me flying the plane to Bien Hoa Airbase in Saigon the next day. So with a can you top this dare I turned to Norm and asked, “Hey Norm, you ever had a hotsy bath?” “Hell no, that’s for sissies” he roared, "Well you don’t have a hair on your ass if you don’t go with Bill and I and get a "hotsy" bath Bill looked at me quizzically and said “Yeah, Not a hair” . And so we settled up and off we went to the bath house which was just a block down the road from the hotel.
Bill and I tipped the "mamasan" who ran the bath house and told her to make sure our long lanky friend got the full treatment. So I went up for my steam and massage with my masseuse. After 10 minutes in the steam bath I was taken by my masseuse and dunked in a huge tub of hot water and she scrubbed me from head to toe. After toweling me off I was told to get on the table for my massage. What a relaxing, soothing time it was. She even walked down my back pigeon toed and with her big toes cracked each of my vertebrae. Then she sat me up and from the back she held my head between her hands and slowly massaged my temples. As my head began to sag she gave it one firm jerk to the right and I could hear the snap of the neck vertebrae. And then it was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was totally relaxed, walking on air and ready for a nap. I tipped my attendant, thanked her profusely and went down to the lobby. Bill was waiting with a smile and a satisfied look on his face. I said, "Where is Norm?" "Don't know", he said. "Maybe he finished early and went on back to the hotel. I'm whipped, let's head on back" I agreed and as we started out the door here comes Norm down the stairs, a big smile on his face, happy as a lark and thanking me for introducing him to the "Horsy" bath. I have to say if you have a grumpy ole Captain, take him for a steam bath and massage and he will be a changed man.
Norm ordered that we were to meet in the lobby at 7 and go out and get some good Japanese food at a nearby restaurant. Bill and I were somewhat tardy and reported in the lobby at about the same time. Norm was not there. We both agreed that he specified that he would be there and we would all go to dinner. So, at about 7:15 we decided to ring his room. No answer. So another ten minutes went by and up we decided to go up to his room. Bill knocked softly at first and then louder and we waited for a response but no answer. “Oh well”, I said, "he probably left without us". After all having been together for almost four days, except for the breakfast debrief, he had not socialized with us. So off we went for a bite to eat and then to bed. I was dog tired and I thought our captain surely must have been fatigued. The next morning Bill and I met for breakfast at around ten. As we were ordering breakfast Norm walked in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and joined us. "Where were you guys, why didn't you call me for dinner last night?” We told him we had tried but oh well it was obvious the "horty" bath had taken its' toll.
A Day Off
We had a forty-eight hour layover which meant we had an extra day to spend in Kadena. The senior flight attendant organized a picnic and let us know the cockpit was invited. Norm opted to stay at the hotel and Bill and I joined the cabin crew and it was off to Ichikaway (sic) beach. This was a beach used for R and R by the US forces and since the airline was under military contract we were invited to use it. We took picnic lunches and swim suits and enjoyed the day water skiing and body surfing. Later in the afternoon we organized a volleyball game and us boys with our coed flight attendant crew played several games. As we were into our second game three big carryall camo green trucks rolled in loaded with marines just back from the battlefront in Nam. When they saw our bikini clad ladies a very loud cheer and roar of enthusiasm went up. These guys had not seen a round eyed lady in many moons. The roar and cheering was a bit scary and our female volley ballers scurried off to the bath house. Thank God the trucks did not stop.
Off to Saigon
The next day at o' dark thirty our crew gathered in the lobby for pickup to go to the airport. As we were waiting, sipping a coffee and munching on a Danish the head Geisha from the Play Boy bar downstairs arrived in the lobby a bit tipsy having just closed the bar. She spied Bill and I and exclaimed loudly, "Where were you guys last night, we missed you?" We were both red in the face for having been singled out in front of our crew. Old Norm cocked an eye toward us and with a tsk, tsk stated, "You boys were in bed by 10 weren't you?" The FA's snickered.
The big Boeing 707-331BAH roared down the runway at Kadena with Captain Norm at the helm with 186 soldiers destined for Saigon. We were at 31,000ft. all the way until about 100 miles out. Norm let us know that this approach would be a steep one, staying as high as we could for as long as we could to avoid small arms fire. So at 15 miles out, 6000 ft. from the runway end and at 140 knots, Norm called "Gear Down, Flaps 40" and he dove for the runway end. And Norm squeaked her on 1500 ft. down the runway slowed to taxi speed and turned off with lots of runway to spare. Yes sir this ole guy could fly the 707.
So we unloaded the troops, Norm and Bill went in to get the paper work for the return trip to Okinawa. I was doing post and pre-flight duties when the senior flight attendant informed me that three soldiers were not going to leave the aircraft... I summoned the MP's standing on the tarmac and we three went to the aft cabin area. There they were sitting in a row all shaking their heads negatively and repeating, "No Sir, I ain't gonna go". "You gonna go?" the one in the middle asked the one to his left. "No sir, I am definitely not getting off this plane". Well the MPs were two big, hulking guys who could have played tackle on any NFL team. They stood over the three mumbling GI's and ordered them "Up........on your feet” and they sheepishly obeyed and left the plane.
Back to Kadena
Norm and Bill came back with the flight plan, paper work and military release so we were ready to return to Kadena with a planeload of GI's. At Kadena there would be a crew change. As we were reading the check list, (Norm finally had decided to go along with Bill and I), there was the secret two knocks on the cockpit door. The senior FA announced that one of the soldiers was in shock and being administered to by two other FA's. One of the lady FA's was a nurse. So Norm announced that the distressed soldier must be removed so we could go. The medical corpsmen came on and managed to resuscitate the young soldier just enough to declare him fit to travel. So again we were dispatched by the local military authority. The doors were closed, engines started and we taxied out for takeoff.
Here again the takeoff was at a very steep angle, max angle climb to 6,000 feet to avoid small arms fire. As I recall there is a river that winds around part of the airfield. Was it the Saigon river or maybe the Dong Nam or a tributary? Anyway the Viet Cong would use the river to hide and launch rockets or fire rifles at departing and arriving military flights. Our forces continually patrolled the airfield perimeter in search of the viet cong. While I was waiting for Norm and Bill to return from Flight Ops two F4 Phantoms launched, after burners aglow, climbing to 8,000 feet and then a roll over and a steep dive aiming at a location off the runway end firing their rockets at a group of VC. At least this was what one of the military ground crew told me. He claimed it happened quite often.
So we were on our way back to Okinawa. As Norm assumed standard rate climb out of 6000 feet to cruise altitude the intercom bell dinged and it was announced that the soldier had gone back into shock. Norm ordered max speed cruise, barber pole minus 5 knots, stayed at 22,000 feet and raced to the airfield in Kadena. The control tower was told of our incapacitated soldier and it was agreed an ambulance would meet us after landing. We were not to clear the runway as the passenger steps and ambulance would meet us on the runway. I observed a masterful bit of flying by Norm...as fast as we could go for as long as possible and then a soft landing. The sick soldier was taken to the base hospital and we learned later that evening that he passed.
Another Layover
So we were scheduled for another 36 hour layover. That evening we decided to go to a nice restaurant to unwind and enjoy some local cuisine. Naturally to settle our nerves we decided we should have "happy hour" before dining. Norm waived for the bar maid to come over to our table and he ordered a round. He brusquely asked the young lady, "Do you know how to make a vodka martini? The bar maid replied quickly nodding her head "Yes, Captain" I don't know how she knew he was a Captain but it was common knowledge that flight crews ate at this particular restaurant and of the three gentlemen sitting before her he was obviously the oldest and must be the Captain. So Norm wants to know, "HOW?' She pantomimes pouring the vodka and then pouring the vermouth. Norm says a bit agitated, "that's too much vermouth". As the poor young lady was becoming upset I asked if I could make the martinis. She was eager to let me do this for her so as to please "The captain".
So after happy hour we went into the restaurant for some tasty Japanese cuisine. I can't remember what we ate but it was good and the warm sake was especially good. It was great to unwind this way and I do believe we were all beginning to bond and I know I had more respect for "our salty dog", Captain Norm.
This is not the end of the story. On our way back to the hotel we were all having a good ole time, laughing and joking. Bill had us in stitches with his Carolina wit. A short distance from the hotel Norm was looking back at Bill when he stumbled and fell into a "ben Joe" ditch. For those who don't know the locals pour all of their dirty water and slop pots into this ditch. quite messy and smelly. Bill and I quickly reached down, each grabbing an arm and pulled him to his feet and the somewhat silent night air was filled with the most colorful of all profanity. We helped Norm to his room, threw him in the shower, clothes and all, and turned on the water. We left with Norm sitting in the tub cussing a blue streak. As Bill and I headed to our rooms Bill exclaimed, "Hey Nick, we've got him now. From now on Norm will be known as 'Captain Splash'"
At Last My Leg
The next day all was well and the remainder of the trip back to the states was somewhat uneventful. I do remember our last leg from Hawaii to Travis was at night, an empty cargo flight. Norm informed me that this was definitely my leg. All through the trip I had worked with Bill and helped him to do all the paperwork. I flew almost every flight with my nose up front, occasionally checking the F/E panel. I wanted to pilot a 707 in the worst way.
So this night I did all the planning, plotted the route, determined fuel load, filed the flight plan and of course checked the weather. The forecast weather is a must to know but California weather that time of year was no problem. So it was finally my leg. I was going to get to fly that beautiful 707 to Travis AFB, of course from the right seat with Bill looking over my shoulder. I was a very happy camper.
All planning complete we went to the aircraft. Upon arrival we were met by an FAA check pilot. He was going to give Norm a check ride on the leg to Travis AFB.
Oh well, my day would come when I would pilot the plane, but not this night. I eventually moved up to F/O and got my ATP rating on the 707 in September 1967and in May 1985 became Captain on the Boeing 767 while based in St. Louis. I retired in November of 1992 flying the 767 out of New York Kennedy airport. Many, many memorable flights of which I am now writing.
I flew with some of the best........ good men and great pilots. But out of all of them two of the best were Norm Portman and Bill Hawkins. May they rest in peace............and I bet they are enjoying a "hotsy" bath somewhere out West.
Nick T. Whey, TWA Captain, Ret
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
I just read that Bill Hawkins had passed away (flown West). Bill was one of my favorite people, a big, somewhat husky fellow who always had a big smile and a story to tell.
I first met Bill on one of my first flights as a flight engineer. I was a 33 year old Navy jet jockey and Bill was a 26 year old pilot from South Carolina who had gained his experience as a general aviation pilot. We both developed a sort of mutual admiration society and enjoyed hearing the stories each of us would tell about our piloting experiences.
We were assigned to a MAC charter that the airline flew for the government flying the troops to Viet Nam. We were with a salty ole dog, WW II veteran, Captain Norm Portman. Anyway Norm did things his way. He had logged thousands of hours and he seemed to have no use for two young pilots just hired on by the airline. Pilots are taught to use check lists, Before Starting Engines, After Starting Engines, Taxi, Before Take-off and so on. Well Norm was not having any of this. He would go through his checks and then look out the window. Bill and I would read the check list to each other out loud which irked him to the point that he totally ignored us on the first leg from Travis Air Force base to Oahu , Hawaii where we would layover. The first layover was in San Francisco. We had deadheaded from New York to San Fran and then the next day we started our trip to Viet Nam.
So Norm barely said two words to us for the first two days. On layover he would disappear and not be seen again until the next day pickup at the hotel. So our third leg of our trip was an all night cargo flight departing at 1700 from Oahu and flying all night to Wake Island and then on to Okinawa. A long, long night and Norm was still keeping to himself and not saying much while Bill and I did the check lists and told our stories.
A long haul over the Pacific Ocean to Wake and we were all tiring. After unloading some cargo and taking on more fuel we headed for Okinawa. On taxi out Norm turned to Bill and in an almost inaudible low voice said "You fly us to Okinawa". Bill was a little taken aback but eagerly took his turn and did an admirable job piloting the 707-373C (even if he was a young pilot). So after five and a half hours enroute we touched down at Kadena, AFB, Okinawa, read the check lists, signed the log book and headed for the hotel.
Layover Okinawa
We were staying in a brand new hotel that had been build to handle all of the airline crews that were flying MATS charters and laying over in Kadena. So we checked in, got our room keys and headed up to our rooms. As we headed for the elevator Norm turned to the lady manager and asked, "Do you have a restaurant?" She replied quite shyly "yes, Captain" "Is `it open?", "No, Captain san". “Well open it". “Yes, Captain san”, she said bowing and a bit upset but showing true Japanese courtesy and subservience to a power figure. Norm turned to Bill and me and said, "You fellas gotta beer drinking shirt in your bag?" “Yes sir”, we replied almost in unison. "Well, get it on and I will see you down here in the restaurant in fifteen minutes". And as good pilots responsive to the Captains wishes we showed up as ordered.
So we started debriefing while consuming a fair amount of Orion beer. (I learned my first Japanese, how to order three beers, "san Orion"). The more we consumed and talked the more brazen Bill and I became. Norm was an excellent pilot but I, the lowly flight engineer, announced that I could fly that 707 as good as he could and probably even better. As Flight Engineers we did have to demonstrate our piloting abilities, after all we were not expected nor did we want to stay flight engineers forever. I did have a natural ability and could upon occasion touchdown so lightly upon landing that you didn’t know you were on the ground. So Norm took me up on the dare and said, “OK, you're flying us to Saigon.". I thought now I had done it. He was calling my bluff and I was going to have to put up or shut up. Of course this was against the rules but Norm was very convincing. So as we all laughed at the prospect of me flying the plane to Bien Hoa Airbase in Saigon the next day. So with a can you top this dare I turned to Norm and asked, “Hey Norm, you ever had a hotsy bath?” “Hell no, that’s for sissies” he roared, "Well you don’t have a hair on your ass if you don’t go with Bill and I and get a "hotsy" bath Bill looked at me quizzically and said “Yeah, Not a hair” . And so we settled up and off we went to the bath house which was just a block down the road from the hotel.
Bill and I tipped the "mamasan" who ran the bath house and told her to make sure our long lanky friend got the full treatment. So I went up for my steam and massage with my masseuse. After 10 minutes in the steam bath I was taken by my masseuse and dunked in a huge tub of hot water and she scrubbed me from head to toe. After toweling me off I was told to get on the table for my massage. What a relaxing, soothing time it was. She even walked down my back pigeon toed and with her big toes cracked each of my vertebrae. Then she sat me up and from the back she held my head between her hands and slowly massaged my temples. As my head began to sag she gave it one firm jerk to the right and I could hear the snap of the neck vertebrae. And then it was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was totally relaxed, walking on air and ready for a nap. I tipped my attendant, thanked her profusely and went down to the lobby. Bill was waiting with a smile and a satisfied look on his face. I said, "Where is Norm?" "Don't know", he said. "Maybe he finished early and went on back to the hotel. I'm whipped, let's head on back" I agreed and as we started out the door here comes Norm down the stairs, a big smile on his face, happy as a lark and thanking me for introducing him to the "Horsy" bath. I have to say if you have a grumpy ole Captain, take him for a steam bath and massage and he will be a changed man.
Norm ordered that we were to meet in the lobby at 7 and go out and get some good Japanese food at a nearby restaurant. Bill and I were somewhat tardy and reported in the lobby at about the same time. Norm was not there. We both agreed that he specified that he would be there and we would all go to dinner. So, at about 7:15 we decided to ring his room. No answer. So another ten minutes went by and up we decided to go up to his room. Bill knocked softly at first and then louder and we waited for a response but no answer. “Oh well”, I said, "he probably left without us". After all having been together for almost four days, except for the breakfast debrief, he had not socialized with us. So off we went for a bite to eat and then to bed. I was dog tired and I thought our captain surely must have been fatigued. The next morning Bill and I met for breakfast at around ten. As we were ordering breakfast Norm walked in rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and joined us. "Where were you guys, why didn't you call me for dinner last night?” We told him we had tried but oh well it was obvious the "horty" bath had taken its' toll.
A Day Off
We had a forty-eight hour layover which meant we had an extra day to spend in Kadena. The senior flight attendant organized a picnic and let us know the cockpit was invited. Norm opted to stay at the hotel and Bill and I joined the cabin crew and it was off to Ichikaway (sic) beach. This was a beach used for R and R by the US forces and since the airline was under military contract we were invited to use it. We took picnic lunches and swim suits and enjoyed the day water skiing and body surfing. Later in the afternoon we organized a volleyball game and us boys with our coed flight attendant crew played several games. As we were into our second game three big carryall camo green trucks rolled in loaded with marines just back from the battlefront in Nam. When they saw our bikini clad ladies a very loud cheer and roar of enthusiasm went up. These guys had not seen a round eyed lady in many moons. The roar and cheering was a bit scary and our female volley ballers scurried off to the bath house. Thank God the trucks did not stop.
Off to Saigon
The next day at o' dark thirty our crew gathered in the lobby for pickup to go to the airport. As we were waiting, sipping a coffee and munching on a Danish the head Geisha from the Play Boy bar downstairs arrived in the lobby a bit tipsy having just closed the bar. She spied Bill and I and exclaimed loudly, "Where were you guys last night, we missed you?" We were both red in the face for having been singled out in front of our crew. Old Norm cocked an eye toward us and with a tsk, tsk stated, "You boys were in bed by 10 weren't you?" The FA's snickered.
The big Boeing 707-331BAH roared down the runway at Kadena with Captain Norm at the helm with 186 soldiers destined for Saigon. We were at 31,000ft. all the way until about 100 miles out. Norm let us know that this approach would be a steep one, staying as high as we could for as long as we could to avoid small arms fire. So at 15 miles out, 6000 ft. from the runway end and at 140 knots, Norm called "Gear Down, Flaps 40" and he dove for the runway end. And Norm squeaked her on 1500 ft. down the runway slowed to taxi speed and turned off with lots of runway to spare. Yes sir this ole guy could fly the 707.
So we unloaded the troops, Norm and Bill went in to get the paper work for the return trip to Okinawa. I was doing post and pre-flight duties when the senior flight attendant informed me that three soldiers were not going to leave the aircraft... I summoned the MP's standing on the tarmac and we three went to the aft cabin area. There they were sitting in a row all shaking their heads negatively and repeating, "No Sir, I ain't gonna go". "You gonna go?" the one in the middle asked the one to his left. "No sir, I am definitely not getting off this plane". Well the MPs were two big, hulking guys who could have played tackle on any NFL team. They stood over the three mumbling GI's and ordered them "Up........on your feet” and they sheepishly obeyed and left the plane.
Back to Kadena
Norm and Bill came back with the flight plan, paper work and military release so we were ready to return to Kadena with a planeload of GI's. At Kadena there would be a crew change. As we were reading the check list, (Norm finally had decided to go along with Bill and I), there was the secret two knocks on the cockpit door. The senior FA announced that one of the soldiers was in shock and being administered to by two other FA's. One of the lady FA's was a nurse. So Norm announced that the distressed soldier must be removed so we could go. The medical corpsmen came on and managed to resuscitate the young soldier just enough to declare him fit to travel. So again we were dispatched by the local military authority. The doors were closed, engines started and we taxied out for takeoff.
Here again the takeoff was at a very steep angle, max angle climb to 6,000 feet to avoid small arms fire. As I recall there is a river that winds around part of the airfield. Was it the Saigon river or maybe the Dong Nam or a tributary? Anyway the Viet Cong would use the river to hide and launch rockets or fire rifles at departing and arriving military flights. Our forces continually patrolled the airfield perimeter in search of the viet cong. While I was waiting for Norm and Bill to return from Flight Ops two F4 Phantoms launched, after burners aglow, climbing to 8,000 feet and then a roll over and a steep dive aiming at a location off the runway end firing their rockets at a group of VC. At least this was what one of the military ground crew told me. He claimed it happened quite often.
So we were on our way back to Okinawa. As Norm assumed standard rate climb out of 6000 feet to cruise altitude the intercom bell dinged and it was announced that the soldier had gone back into shock. Norm ordered max speed cruise, barber pole minus 5 knots, stayed at 22,000 feet and raced to the airfield in Kadena. The control tower was told of our incapacitated soldier and it was agreed an ambulance would meet us after landing. We were not to clear the runway as the passenger steps and ambulance would meet us on the runway. I observed a masterful bit of flying by Norm...as fast as we could go for as long as possible and then a soft landing. The sick soldier was taken to the base hospital and we learned later that evening that he passed.
Another Layover
So we were scheduled for another 36 hour layover. That evening we decided to go to a nice restaurant to unwind and enjoy some local cuisine. Naturally to settle our nerves we decided we should have "happy hour" before dining. Norm waived for the bar maid to come over to our table and he ordered a round. He brusquely asked the young lady, "Do you know how to make a vodka martini? The bar maid replied quickly nodding her head "Yes, Captain" I don't know how she knew he was a Captain but it was common knowledge that flight crews ate at this particular restaurant and of the three gentlemen sitting before her he was obviously the oldest and must be the Captain. So Norm wants to know, "HOW?' She pantomimes pouring the vodka and then pouring the vermouth. Norm says a bit agitated, "that's too much vermouth". As the poor young lady was becoming upset I asked if I could make the martinis. She was eager to let me do this for her so as to please "The captain".
So after happy hour we went into the restaurant for some tasty Japanese cuisine. I can't remember what we ate but it was good and the warm sake was especially good. It was great to unwind this way and I do believe we were all beginning to bond and I know I had more respect for "our salty dog", Captain Norm.
This is not the end of the story. On our way back to the hotel we were all having a good ole time, laughing and joking. Bill had us in stitches with his Carolina wit. A short distance from the hotel Norm was looking back at Bill when he stumbled and fell into a "ben Joe" ditch. For those who don't know the locals pour all of their dirty water and slop pots into this ditch. quite messy and smelly. Bill and I quickly reached down, each grabbing an arm and pulled him to his feet and the somewhat silent night air was filled with the most colorful of all profanity. We helped Norm to his room, threw him in the shower, clothes and all, and turned on the water. We left with Norm sitting in the tub cussing a blue streak. As Bill and I headed to our rooms Bill exclaimed, "Hey Nick, we've got him now. From now on Norm will be known as 'Captain Splash'"
At Last My Leg
The next day all was well and the remainder of the trip back to the states was somewhat uneventful. I do remember our last leg from Hawaii to Travis was at night, an empty cargo flight. Norm informed me that this was definitely my leg. All through the trip I had worked with Bill and helped him to do all the paperwork. I flew almost every flight with my nose up front, occasionally checking the F/E panel. I wanted to pilot a 707 in the worst way.
So this night I did all the planning, plotted the route, determined fuel load, filed the flight plan and of course checked the weather. The forecast weather is a must to know but California weather that time of year was no problem. So it was finally my leg. I was going to get to fly that beautiful 707 to Travis AFB, of course from the right seat with Bill looking over my shoulder. I was a very happy camper.
All planning complete we went to the aircraft. Upon arrival we were met by an FAA check pilot. He was going to give Norm a check ride on the leg to Travis AFB.
Oh well, my day would come when I would pilot the plane, but not this night. I eventually moved up to F/O and got my ATP rating on the 707 in September 1967and in May 1985 became Captain on the Boeing 767 while based in St. Louis. I retired in November of 1992 flying the 767 out of New York Kennedy airport. Many, many memorable flights of which I am now writing.
I flew with some of the best........ good men and great pilots. But out of all of them two of the best were Norm Portman and Bill Hawkins. May they rest in peace............and I bet they are enjoying a "hotsy" bath somewhere out West.
Nick T. Whey, TWA Captain, Ret
The names have been changed to protect the innocent.
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