A Nice Fairchild Story...
Posted: Mon Oct 18, 2004 12:16 pm
'This article was written for Warbirds Magazine By Jerry Pahl. Jerry
works for the Air Zoo's Education & Research Department. This is the
article that touched on the subject of landing gear cracks, found on
the PT series aircraft. (I underlined that section)
FAIRCHILD (HOWARD) PT-23 CORNELL
Sometimes the restoration of an aircraft requires such a
great investment of one's self that it is hard to know where the
heart stops and the project begins. This is the story of an affair
of the heart and anyone connected with aviation can understand the
fidelity of the restorers to this mistress of a machine.
When Greg Ward signed on as an Air Zoo airframe & power
plant mechanic in 1988, he knew he was joining a team that had a
reputation for quality restorations; award winning quality as seen
in its resurrection of the Air Zoo's P-47 Thunderbolt, F6F Hellcat,
and F7F Tigercat. As low man on the totem pole, Greg helped where
he could in the projects being worked upon and then was finally
given a project to supervise; a project, which would consume a major
portion of his professional life. Greg's mistress was a World War
II primary trainer, a Fairchild PT-23 Cornell, serial #291.
While the Cornell is certainly not as vivacious as the
fighters and bombers the Air Zoo has restored, it is just as
romantic--the romance of flying an open cockpit aircraft will never
be equaled by trips in the enclosed compartments of faster craft.
And, though the Fairchild is a somewhat ordinary looking plane, to a
cadet pilot she was a heavenly body?and a body to be respected.
This sleek monoplane with blunted nose was much more important than
any potential combat plane in the cadet's future. For, if that
pilot could not master flying the -23, he need not worry about
becoming a bomber driver or fighter jock. He would wash out and be
placed in training as perhaps a gunner, radio operator or
navigator. Whatever the case, he had to pull everything he could
out of this little trainer before transitioning into something more
powerful like a BT-13 "Vibrator."
The Fairchild PT-23 is like its sister the PT-19 in every
way except that the -23 has the round puggish blunted nose of a
Continental W-670 powerplant producing 220 hp., while the -19 had
the in-line aquiline nose of the Ranger L-440 producing 175 hp.
Interestingly, Howard Aircraft Corp. originally built this Fairchild
in 1943. According to Project Supervisor Ward, "Fairchild only
built two of the planes." The rest were subcontracted out as
Fairchild was busy building AT-21 Gunners, UC-61 Forwards, and doing
design work on the C-82 Packet Transport--a plane similar to the
post-WW II C-119 Flying Boxcar.
Greg continued that Howard itself even contracted out
subassemblies. "The center section of the wing was built by Wicks
Organ Company?the outer wing panels as we know were built by McKee
Door Company." Stamps to this effect were found on wing parts when
the aircraft was dismantled. Certainly, other manufacturers did the
same thing so that the needs of the U.S. Army Air Force training
command could b e met?good examples of the efforts of manufacturers
on the "Home Front."
Variants of the Cornell were built by Aeronca, St. Louis
Airplane Co., Fleet Aircraft, and even a Brazilian firm. Their
designations were PT-19, PT-23, PT-26 (with a 200 hp. Ranger and
sometimes cockpit enclosures with cabin heat), and a Canadian Fleet
version of the -26 designated the Cornell II. A total of 8,130 of
all variants were produced.
But perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves here. Let's
back up a bit and take a closer look at this particular aircraft.
PT-23 #291 is missing its logbooks from the war years, but
independent investigation shows it was part of a lot of trainers
sent to Stuttgart Field in Arkansas for primary training use.
(Perhaps it was flown by the late Darl Watters while there.) A low
wing monoplane with very wide landing gear (compared to the biplane,
narrow gear PT-13 Stearman Kaydet) the Cornell was ideal for
teaching cadets how to fly: and especially how to land! Like a
lovely lady the -23 was gentle and forgiving. It did have a temper,
however, and if you stepped on the brakes too hard, she'd nose over?
there is a "roll over" pylon between cockpits to counter this
effect. Having been produced near the end of the war, it was not
painted garish orange-yellow like the typical biplane "Yellow
Perils" used by the Navy and Army Air Force. Instead, it had been
left somewhat of a "plane" Jane in silver dope applied directly to
the wood and fabric.
After its tour of duty, 291 was sold for $610 by the War
Assets Administration in 1946 and changed hands thirteen more times
before it was donated to the Air Zoo. It was refurbished to some
extent in 1963, but then experienced an accident in May of 1971,
causing the aircraft to be listed as a total write-off. In 1976
Alfred P. Krest rebuilt almost the entire plane, yet when Tom and
Jane Austin, then of Greeneville, Tennessee bought the plane in
1981, it was barely airworthy. In fact, the first thing Tom did
after the plane was ferried to Greeneville was to cut off the fabric
cover so he would not be tempted to fly the aircraft. Years of
exposure had taken their toll.
Tom had been in Air Force ROTC at the University of
Tennessee and owned several warbirds including a T-6, three T-28s,
two Luscombs, and an AD Skyraider. But his dad had owned a PT-23
and it was the first plane in which Tom ever flew. So the Cornell
had a special place in his heart too. After Tom purchased the
aircraft from John Baugh of Nashville, he fully intended to restore
the aircraft to tip-top condition. Using an ice pick, Tom probed
every inch of the fuselage frame and found three areas where the ice
pick went right through the metal! Extensive repair work was done
and the frame was cleaned and painted.
The "lobster cage," the ventral wooden belly of the
fuselage, had been completely rebuilt by a structural engineer who
had built tow of his own planes and was a master when it came to
woodworking. Tom struck a deal with him to do the wings also, but
then love intervened. Though this gentleman was 70 years old and
had just lost his wife, he fell in love not with this airplane but a
real woman, got married, and promptly forgot about the project. Tom
just could not find anyone he trusted enough to do the job correctly.
Unfortunately, Tom was in the process of changing jobs and
relocating. With no one to work on the plane and no place to store
it, he was afraid parts would be misplaced. He and Jane made the
decision to donate the plane to the Air Zoo. Tom said it
was "difficult to part with the dream, the 'Zoo' was by far the best
of all the alternatives." (Tom was associated with the Air Zoo,
being its Hellcat pilot for some years.) The donation papers were
signed on May 19, 1988.
Though one probably should not call the project a basket
case, it was delivered in pieces and the wooden pieces were going to
present a major challenge to the restoration team. Initially Greg
and a hand full of volunteers had hoped the restoration project
would be comparatively easy. But this is a very complicated
aircraft, especially for a trainer, and required the skills of metal
and wood worker; people who could upholster and sew fabric; painters
and artisans?and many more.
"In the beginning of the project we thought we could maybe
re-skin part of the wing, do a little repair work, and have a good
airworthy airplane, " said Greg. "The deeper we dug, the more we
realized there was no way our original plan was going to gel so we
had to go ahead and completely disassemble it (the wing) and fix
it." Though this aircraft and restoration does not really compare
one-to-one with the restorations of the P-47 or Corsair, considering
the decay that was discovered, this was going to be one of the most
ambitious restorations on this type of aircraft the Museum staff
would undertake.
Originally the ribs hade been bonded with animal glues which
had since crystallized; plywood had absorbed moisture and either
separated or suffered from dry rot; and on one knew what the
condition was of the interior of the spars.
Jigs were built for each and every rib; leading edge, center
and training edge. The wings tapered and the cord did likewise,
compounding the rebuilt. Dozens of router bits were consumed
chewing off one surface of each spar (hundreds of brass coated steel
nails can do a number on router bits). Once the plywood was
removed, the interiors could be inspected--fortunately, they were OK
and did not require rebuilding, other than the replacement of the
removed surfaces.
One of the Museum's volunteer workers is Lyle Patton, a
master cabinetmaker. This man performs miracles with wood. Both he
and Greg as well as a multitude of other volunteers attended to the
long and arduous process of restoring the wings. Former Ford Tri-
Motor pilot John Allen was also instrumental in much of the wing
building. Once the wing skeleton was complete, the plywood skin had
to be glued and tacked?the nails to be removed later.
"Aircraft plywood is perfect throughout?it's structural,
simply structural, " said Greg. "It's gotta be solid throughout; no
voids, no mineral streaks, no knots, no structural defects of any
kind. It has to have total glue coverage between all of the
veneers." Made of a sandwich of ribbon-striped mahogany on the
outside and poplar on the inside and the grains on the bias,
aviation grade plywood is very strong and anything but cheap?all of
the wing and empennage had to be covered with it. Needless to say,
it could not be wasted and the restoration team was at the next
critical step' forming the leading edge.
The PT-23 does not have a very thick wing and the leading
edge is somewhat acute. In order to bend large sheets of plywood
(which is only 3/32 of an inch thick) without cracking it, the team
had to design a rather complicated bending fixture. Essentially
they built a long, crude wing with pine ribs over which a roll-top
desk-like surface was attached--this had a fabric lining. Under the
cloth was placed a hot-water pipe with a series of holes along its
length. Slowly, over several days, the plywood was bent with cargo
ratchet-straps, cinched around the jig as hot water was sprayed from
beneath and above. Once fully formed and allowed to dry, a perfect
leading edge had been created.
Another juggernaut was the empennage. At various stages of
the rebuild, the restoration team would assemble associated parts
and to make sure everything was calibrated correctly. When they
went to mate the vertical and horizontal stabilizers, which had been
completely finished to the point of being painted, they didn't fit!
Unknown to the restorers, the horizontal stabilizer had been beefed
up 1/16 of an inch in the center, with the plywood tapering towards
the outer tips of the planes. The horizontal stabilizer had to be
completely stripped and rebuilt from the skin up, adding the
increased thickness.
When the wings and empennage were finished, however, they
were better than those originally built by the subcontractors. "We
used epoxy glues?we had to get special approval for that. We filed
a 337 form (with the FAA) as per the inspector's recommendation."
Also, the restoration team had the benefit of time--years of wear
and tear--to see all the wear patterns and discovered stress
cracks. "We had the advantage of 50 years of use and abuse by
students and civilians to see what the weak points were." With FAA
approval, the team modified these weak points. And, unlike the
original finish, the bare wood surfaces were covered not with
regular varnish, which would split and peal, but with Stits epoxy
varnish. This was then covered with Stits poly fiber and finally
doped and painted with several coats of Imron.
Perhaps, though, the biggest problem during the restoration
process was the fixed landing gear, which had, cracks in them.
According to Greg, it was just a "by-product of the age of the
airplane, the design of the landing gear?these airplanes were never
meant to last for 50 years. We went to a Fairchild fly-in where
there were about a dozen Fairchilds. Dick Schaus (Director of
Restoration & Maintenance) and I crawled underneath each one and
found out that they all had the cracks we were finding. Greg tried
to repair the gear and was successful in doing so, but the heat
treater over treated them and in the process caused the cylinders of
the oleos to go out-of-round.
Four sets of gear were located, shipped, tested by magna-
fluxing--and rejected. Then, while Greg was in Missouri on an
aircraft recovery mission, Schaus got a call from a man who heard of
the restoration problem and actually had a set of gear that had
never been used since being built in the 1940s; the two gear
literally had the manufacturer's yellow tags on them. The really
phenomenal coincidence is that the man lived only 10 miles from
where Greg was picking up the recovered aircraft!
There were hundreds if not thousands of other problems and
challenges to be met, with the Museum restoration team rising to
each task. New Cleveland brakes were added, new up-to-date avionics
and electrical systems were added?electric starter, transponder,
Loran, intercom system, up-to-date seat restraint harnesses, and
many many more items were added, repaired or refurbished. Since
this was going to be a flying aircraft, it must be a safe aircraft.
Volunteer A&P Martha Salisbury removed and did some
disassembly on the Muskegon built engine, but Aero Engines of Los
Angeles completed the rebuild. It took so many years to complete
the aircraft, however, that a little rust had formed on the valve
guides and this created a minor problem. Also, reassembling an
airplane after seven years can cause a few things to be put together
in not exactly the correct order and the fuel pump was sucking fuel
out of the engine rather than pumping it into the power plant. So
there were some problems--all of which were resolved and the engine
has run without a hitch ever since.
After seven, almost eight years, the PT-23 is now airworthy
after what can only be described as a labor of love. As with any
relationship it can be as perplexing as rewarding. One can
understand that emotions ebbed high and low many times throughout
the whole process. When Greg was asked why the floor boards and
inner luggage compartment looks as though they could be the tops of
coffee tables, he responded?"the reason that was done was more as a
morale booster for the volunteers that built the airplane. It was a
90% volunteer-built airplane, seven years worth of beautiful
woodworking. All of the wood looks the same under the paint?we
wanted to show off a little bit of the craftsmanship and spruce up
the aircraft a little."
This sprucing up extends to the paint job too?but for a
functional reason also. Greg said the paint is "a metallic silver
Imron polyurethane. The reason we used the polyurethane paint (on
the aircraft) is that we do fly them. They get oily, they get
dirty. And the Museum has to clean them in a reasonable amount of
time and get 'em looking Good. If that were silver dope (as on the
original aircraft) the oil, the grass stains; the gasoline would
stain the finish. Over a short period of time it would look
horrible." Other volunteers who were involved in the Cornell's
restoration are: Bud Baden, Bud Chop, Carl Cummings, Bud Denning,
Joe Green, Liz Grossman, Bill Hopkins, Richard Jackson, Tom
McNamara, Bob Niewoonder, Gene Phipps, Chester Stawikszynski, Al
VanderVeen, and Harold Vogt. These men and women and the Kalamazoo
Aviation History Museum are committed to preserving the past for the
future?a future where the men, women and children of the United
States can learn more about and appreciate the dedication and
sacrifice of the men and women who built this aircraft originally
and the men who trained in it in preparation for combat.
One of these men is Chester Douglass. Chester about dropped
in his tracks when he first saw the Air Zoo's -23. "That's the
airplane I soloed in!" It was not, of course, this actual aircraft,
but you could see the flood of memories rushing back. "I had had a
$1 ride with 'Bun' Perry as a kid," and that, like with so many
youngsters then, was enough to get him hooked on flying. But the PT-
23 was the first plane in which he was really introduced to flying
as a prospective pilot. Chet did not have much with which to
compare that first flight in the Cornell. "Looking back though,
after the experience of flying other aircraft, looking back it was a
very reliable, very dependable, and a relatively easy airplane to
fly. He should know. Chet progressed through several levels of
training, flew 63 combat missions in B-26s and A-26s, piloted P-51s
in the Air Defense Command during the Korean War, and ended up
flying the RB-57 in the Air National Guard.
Although the PT-23 is a bit more complicated than other
primary trainers of the day, all of the systems worked together
beautifully. Though Chet had not flown a Stearman, he had spoken
with plenty of pilots who had and he is thankful the -23 has very
wide landing gear, unlike the Kaydet. "It wasn't impossible (to do
a ground loop in the -23), but I never did." There really were no
bad habits with the aircraft that Chet can remember?however, his
instructor never would teach them short field landings.
"It was a rather touchy maneuver" and, though there was no
official bulletin that he can remember, there "was some concern
about the number of main spars that broke." The instructor did show
the cadets how to drop the plane just in over the fence, but he
never allowed them to do it themselves. Perhaps he questioned the
ability of the wooden wings to absorb the 20 ft. drop, if not done
properly. The instructor did sign-off on the cadets as having
performed the maneuver, however. Chet never got over the wonder of
flying and still enjoys it.
After almost eight years--after his marriage to his wife,
after the birth of their child--Greg Ward was going to finally see
the rebirth of his own charge, the PT-23 Cornell. It was 7 July
1997. The original plan had been for the first flight after
restoration to be on 4 July 1997, Independence Day; a rather fitting
date for a warbird trainer that contributed so much to the
independence of this nation. But the weather did not permit.
Museum Board Chairman Pete Parish took some time to rev up
the engine and check all the instruments, but soon he taxied out and
quicker than a drop of water jumping off a hot griddle, the -23 was
airborne! The silver aircraft took to the air like a fish to
water. In this perfect mating of form to function, over the next
half hour Pete put the Cornell through her paces. Thoroughbred that
she is, she performed beautifully. Greg and many of his volunteers
had their heads cranked skyward for that 30 minutes watching the
glint from the wings as Pete checked out the silver bird. Then Pete
banked to the right, lined up on 5/23 and greased her in on a three-
point landing?it was beautiful. No major squawks.
Tom Austin finally got his chance behind the stick, piloting
the aircraft to Oshkosh with Greg in the back seat. There were over
500 warbirds at the air show and over 100 in competition. The Air
Zoo's PT-23 Cornell was awarded "Judges Choice." The restoration
team was ecstatic! Whether or not she had won a prize, the -23
certainly had already won the hearts of all with whom she had come
into contact. Just what you would expect from a classy lady.'
works for the Air Zoo's Education & Research Department. This is the
article that touched on the subject of landing gear cracks, found on
the PT series aircraft. (I underlined that section)
FAIRCHILD (HOWARD) PT-23 CORNELL
Sometimes the restoration of an aircraft requires such a
great investment of one's self that it is hard to know where the
heart stops and the project begins. This is the story of an affair
of the heart and anyone connected with aviation can understand the
fidelity of the restorers to this mistress of a machine.
When Greg Ward signed on as an Air Zoo airframe & power
plant mechanic in 1988, he knew he was joining a team that had a
reputation for quality restorations; award winning quality as seen
in its resurrection of the Air Zoo's P-47 Thunderbolt, F6F Hellcat,
and F7F Tigercat. As low man on the totem pole, Greg helped where
he could in the projects being worked upon and then was finally
given a project to supervise; a project, which would consume a major
portion of his professional life. Greg's mistress was a World War
II primary trainer, a Fairchild PT-23 Cornell, serial #291.
While the Cornell is certainly not as vivacious as the
fighters and bombers the Air Zoo has restored, it is just as
romantic--the romance of flying an open cockpit aircraft will never
be equaled by trips in the enclosed compartments of faster craft.
And, though the Fairchild is a somewhat ordinary looking plane, to a
cadet pilot she was a heavenly body?and a body to be respected.
This sleek monoplane with blunted nose was much more important than
any potential combat plane in the cadet's future. For, if that
pilot could not master flying the -23, he need not worry about
becoming a bomber driver or fighter jock. He would wash out and be
placed in training as perhaps a gunner, radio operator or
navigator. Whatever the case, he had to pull everything he could
out of this little trainer before transitioning into something more
powerful like a BT-13 "Vibrator."
The Fairchild PT-23 is like its sister the PT-19 in every
way except that the -23 has the round puggish blunted nose of a
Continental W-670 powerplant producing 220 hp., while the -19 had
the in-line aquiline nose of the Ranger L-440 producing 175 hp.
Interestingly, Howard Aircraft Corp. originally built this Fairchild
in 1943. According to Project Supervisor Ward, "Fairchild only
built two of the planes." The rest were subcontracted out as
Fairchild was busy building AT-21 Gunners, UC-61 Forwards, and doing
design work on the C-82 Packet Transport--a plane similar to the
post-WW II C-119 Flying Boxcar.
Greg continued that Howard itself even contracted out
subassemblies. "The center section of the wing was built by Wicks
Organ Company?the outer wing panels as we know were built by McKee
Door Company." Stamps to this effect were found on wing parts when
the aircraft was dismantled. Certainly, other manufacturers did the
same thing so that the needs of the U.S. Army Air Force training
command could b e met?good examples of the efforts of manufacturers
on the "Home Front."
Variants of the Cornell were built by Aeronca, St. Louis
Airplane Co., Fleet Aircraft, and even a Brazilian firm. Their
designations were PT-19, PT-23, PT-26 (with a 200 hp. Ranger and
sometimes cockpit enclosures with cabin heat), and a Canadian Fleet
version of the -26 designated the Cornell II. A total of 8,130 of
all variants were produced.
But perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves here. Let's
back up a bit and take a closer look at this particular aircraft.
PT-23 #291 is missing its logbooks from the war years, but
independent investigation shows it was part of a lot of trainers
sent to Stuttgart Field in Arkansas for primary training use.
(Perhaps it was flown by the late Darl Watters while there.) A low
wing monoplane with very wide landing gear (compared to the biplane,
narrow gear PT-13 Stearman Kaydet) the Cornell was ideal for
teaching cadets how to fly: and especially how to land! Like a
lovely lady the -23 was gentle and forgiving. It did have a temper,
however, and if you stepped on the brakes too hard, she'd nose over?
there is a "roll over" pylon between cockpits to counter this
effect. Having been produced near the end of the war, it was not
painted garish orange-yellow like the typical biplane "Yellow
Perils" used by the Navy and Army Air Force. Instead, it had been
left somewhat of a "plane" Jane in silver dope applied directly to
the wood and fabric.
After its tour of duty, 291 was sold for $610 by the War
Assets Administration in 1946 and changed hands thirteen more times
before it was donated to the Air Zoo. It was refurbished to some
extent in 1963, but then experienced an accident in May of 1971,
causing the aircraft to be listed as a total write-off. In 1976
Alfred P. Krest rebuilt almost the entire plane, yet when Tom and
Jane Austin, then of Greeneville, Tennessee bought the plane in
1981, it was barely airworthy. In fact, the first thing Tom did
after the plane was ferried to Greeneville was to cut off the fabric
cover so he would not be tempted to fly the aircraft. Years of
exposure had taken their toll.
Tom had been in Air Force ROTC at the University of
Tennessee and owned several warbirds including a T-6, three T-28s,
two Luscombs, and an AD Skyraider. But his dad had owned a PT-23
and it was the first plane in which Tom ever flew. So the Cornell
had a special place in his heart too. After Tom purchased the
aircraft from John Baugh of Nashville, he fully intended to restore
the aircraft to tip-top condition. Using an ice pick, Tom probed
every inch of the fuselage frame and found three areas where the ice
pick went right through the metal! Extensive repair work was done
and the frame was cleaned and painted.
The "lobster cage," the ventral wooden belly of the
fuselage, had been completely rebuilt by a structural engineer who
had built tow of his own planes and was a master when it came to
woodworking. Tom struck a deal with him to do the wings also, but
then love intervened. Though this gentleman was 70 years old and
had just lost his wife, he fell in love not with this airplane but a
real woman, got married, and promptly forgot about the project. Tom
just could not find anyone he trusted enough to do the job correctly.
Unfortunately, Tom was in the process of changing jobs and
relocating. With no one to work on the plane and no place to store
it, he was afraid parts would be misplaced. He and Jane made the
decision to donate the plane to the Air Zoo. Tom said it
was "difficult to part with the dream, the 'Zoo' was by far the best
of all the alternatives." (Tom was associated with the Air Zoo,
being its Hellcat pilot for some years.) The donation papers were
signed on May 19, 1988.
Though one probably should not call the project a basket
case, it was delivered in pieces and the wooden pieces were going to
present a major challenge to the restoration team. Initially Greg
and a hand full of volunteers had hoped the restoration project
would be comparatively easy. But this is a very complicated
aircraft, especially for a trainer, and required the skills of metal
and wood worker; people who could upholster and sew fabric; painters
and artisans?and many more.
"In the beginning of the project we thought we could maybe
re-skin part of the wing, do a little repair work, and have a good
airworthy airplane, " said Greg. "The deeper we dug, the more we
realized there was no way our original plan was going to gel so we
had to go ahead and completely disassemble it (the wing) and fix
it." Though this aircraft and restoration does not really compare
one-to-one with the restorations of the P-47 or Corsair, considering
the decay that was discovered, this was going to be one of the most
ambitious restorations on this type of aircraft the Museum staff
would undertake.
Originally the ribs hade been bonded with animal glues which
had since crystallized; plywood had absorbed moisture and either
separated or suffered from dry rot; and on one knew what the
condition was of the interior of the spars.
Jigs were built for each and every rib; leading edge, center
and training edge. The wings tapered and the cord did likewise,
compounding the rebuilt. Dozens of router bits were consumed
chewing off one surface of each spar (hundreds of brass coated steel
nails can do a number on router bits). Once the plywood was
removed, the interiors could be inspected--fortunately, they were OK
and did not require rebuilding, other than the replacement of the
removed surfaces.
One of the Museum's volunteer workers is Lyle Patton, a
master cabinetmaker. This man performs miracles with wood. Both he
and Greg as well as a multitude of other volunteers attended to the
long and arduous process of restoring the wings. Former Ford Tri-
Motor pilot John Allen was also instrumental in much of the wing
building. Once the wing skeleton was complete, the plywood skin had
to be glued and tacked?the nails to be removed later.
"Aircraft plywood is perfect throughout?it's structural,
simply structural, " said Greg. "It's gotta be solid throughout; no
voids, no mineral streaks, no knots, no structural defects of any
kind. It has to have total glue coverage between all of the
veneers." Made of a sandwich of ribbon-striped mahogany on the
outside and poplar on the inside and the grains on the bias,
aviation grade plywood is very strong and anything but cheap?all of
the wing and empennage had to be covered with it. Needless to say,
it could not be wasted and the restoration team was at the next
critical step' forming the leading edge.
The PT-23 does not have a very thick wing and the leading
edge is somewhat acute. In order to bend large sheets of plywood
(which is only 3/32 of an inch thick) without cracking it, the team
had to design a rather complicated bending fixture. Essentially
they built a long, crude wing with pine ribs over which a roll-top
desk-like surface was attached--this had a fabric lining. Under the
cloth was placed a hot-water pipe with a series of holes along its
length. Slowly, over several days, the plywood was bent with cargo
ratchet-straps, cinched around the jig as hot water was sprayed from
beneath and above. Once fully formed and allowed to dry, a perfect
leading edge had been created.
Another juggernaut was the empennage. At various stages of
the rebuild, the restoration team would assemble associated parts
and to make sure everything was calibrated correctly. When they
went to mate the vertical and horizontal stabilizers, which had been
completely finished to the point of being painted, they didn't fit!
Unknown to the restorers, the horizontal stabilizer had been beefed
up 1/16 of an inch in the center, with the plywood tapering towards
the outer tips of the planes. The horizontal stabilizer had to be
completely stripped and rebuilt from the skin up, adding the
increased thickness.
When the wings and empennage were finished, however, they
were better than those originally built by the subcontractors. "We
used epoxy glues?we had to get special approval for that. We filed
a 337 form (with the FAA) as per the inspector's recommendation."
Also, the restoration team had the benefit of time--years of wear
and tear--to see all the wear patterns and discovered stress
cracks. "We had the advantage of 50 years of use and abuse by
students and civilians to see what the weak points were." With FAA
approval, the team modified these weak points. And, unlike the
original finish, the bare wood surfaces were covered not with
regular varnish, which would split and peal, but with Stits epoxy
varnish. This was then covered with Stits poly fiber and finally
doped and painted with several coats of Imron.
Perhaps, though, the biggest problem during the restoration
process was the fixed landing gear, which had, cracks in them.
According to Greg, it was just a "by-product of the age of the
airplane, the design of the landing gear?these airplanes were never
meant to last for 50 years. We went to a Fairchild fly-in where
there were about a dozen Fairchilds. Dick Schaus (Director of
Restoration & Maintenance) and I crawled underneath each one and
found out that they all had the cracks we were finding. Greg tried
to repair the gear and was successful in doing so, but the heat
treater over treated them and in the process caused the cylinders of
the oleos to go out-of-round.
Four sets of gear were located, shipped, tested by magna-
fluxing--and rejected. Then, while Greg was in Missouri on an
aircraft recovery mission, Schaus got a call from a man who heard of
the restoration problem and actually had a set of gear that had
never been used since being built in the 1940s; the two gear
literally had the manufacturer's yellow tags on them. The really
phenomenal coincidence is that the man lived only 10 miles from
where Greg was picking up the recovered aircraft!
There were hundreds if not thousands of other problems and
challenges to be met, with the Museum restoration team rising to
each task. New Cleveland brakes were added, new up-to-date avionics
and electrical systems were added?electric starter, transponder,
Loran, intercom system, up-to-date seat restraint harnesses, and
many many more items were added, repaired or refurbished. Since
this was going to be a flying aircraft, it must be a safe aircraft.
Volunteer A&P Martha Salisbury removed and did some
disassembly on the Muskegon built engine, but Aero Engines of Los
Angeles completed the rebuild. It took so many years to complete
the aircraft, however, that a little rust had formed on the valve
guides and this created a minor problem. Also, reassembling an
airplane after seven years can cause a few things to be put together
in not exactly the correct order and the fuel pump was sucking fuel
out of the engine rather than pumping it into the power plant. So
there were some problems--all of which were resolved and the engine
has run without a hitch ever since.
After seven, almost eight years, the PT-23 is now airworthy
after what can only be described as a labor of love. As with any
relationship it can be as perplexing as rewarding. One can
understand that emotions ebbed high and low many times throughout
the whole process. When Greg was asked why the floor boards and
inner luggage compartment looks as though they could be the tops of
coffee tables, he responded?"the reason that was done was more as a
morale booster for the volunteers that built the airplane. It was a
90% volunteer-built airplane, seven years worth of beautiful
woodworking. All of the wood looks the same under the paint?we
wanted to show off a little bit of the craftsmanship and spruce up
the aircraft a little."
This sprucing up extends to the paint job too?but for a
functional reason also. Greg said the paint is "a metallic silver
Imron polyurethane. The reason we used the polyurethane paint (on
the aircraft) is that we do fly them. They get oily, they get
dirty. And the Museum has to clean them in a reasonable amount of
time and get 'em looking Good. If that were silver dope (as on the
original aircraft) the oil, the grass stains; the gasoline would
stain the finish. Over a short period of time it would look
horrible." Other volunteers who were involved in the Cornell's
restoration are: Bud Baden, Bud Chop, Carl Cummings, Bud Denning,
Joe Green, Liz Grossman, Bill Hopkins, Richard Jackson, Tom
McNamara, Bob Niewoonder, Gene Phipps, Chester Stawikszynski, Al
VanderVeen, and Harold Vogt. These men and women and the Kalamazoo
Aviation History Museum are committed to preserving the past for the
future?a future where the men, women and children of the United
States can learn more about and appreciate the dedication and
sacrifice of the men and women who built this aircraft originally
and the men who trained in it in preparation for combat.
One of these men is Chester Douglass. Chester about dropped
in his tracks when he first saw the Air Zoo's -23. "That's the
airplane I soloed in!" It was not, of course, this actual aircraft,
but you could see the flood of memories rushing back. "I had had a
$1 ride with 'Bun' Perry as a kid," and that, like with so many
youngsters then, was enough to get him hooked on flying. But the PT-
23 was the first plane in which he was really introduced to flying
as a prospective pilot. Chet did not have much with which to
compare that first flight in the Cornell. "Looking back though,
after the experience of flying other aircraft, looking back it was a
very reliable, very dependable, and a relatively easy airplane to
fly. He should know. Chet progressed through several levels of
training, flew 63 combat missions in B-26s and A-26s, piloted P-51s
in the Air Defense Command during the Korean War, and ended up
flying the RB-57 in the Air National Guard.
Although the PT-23 is a bit more complicated than other
primary trainers of the day, all of the systems worked together
beautifully. Though Chet had not flown a Stearman, he had spoken
with plenty of pilots who had and he is thankful the -23 has very
wide landing gear, unlike the Kaydet. "It wasn't impossible (to do
a ground loop in the -23), but I never did." There really were no
bad habits with the aircraft that Chet can remember?however, his
instructor never would teach them short field landings.
"It was a rather touchy maneuver" and, though there was no
official bulletin that he can remember, there "was some concern
about the number of main spars that broke." The instructor did show
the cadets how to drop the plane just in over the fence, but he
never allowed them to do it themselves. Perhaps he questioned the
ability of the wooden wings to absorb the 20 ft. drop, if not done
properly. The instructor did sign-off on the cadets as having
performed the maneuver, however. Chet never got over the wonder of
flying and still enjoys it.
After almost eight years--after his marriage to his wife,
after the birth of their child--Greg Ward was going to finally see
the rebirth of his own charge, the PT-23 Cornell. It was 7 July
1997. The original plan had been for the first flight after
restoration to be on 4 July 1997, Independence Day; a rather fitting
date for a warbird trainer that contributed so much to the
independence of this nation. But the weather did not permit.
Museum Board Chairman Pete Parish took some time to rev up
the engine and check all the instruments, but soon he taxied out and
quicker than a drop of water jumping off a hot griddle, the -23 was
airborne! The silver aircraft took to the air like a fish to
water. In this perfect mating of form to function, over the next
half hour Pete put the Cornell through her paces. Thoroughbred that
she is, she performed beautifully. Greg and many of his volunteers
had their heads cranked skyward for that 30 minutes watching the
glint from the wings as Pete checked out the silver bird. Then Pete
banked to the right, lined up on 5/23 and greased her in on a three-
point landing?it was beautiful. No major squawks.
Tom Austin finally got his chance behind the stick, piloting
the aircraft to Oshkosh with Greg in the back seat. There were over
500 warbirds at the air show and over 100 in competition. The Air
Zoo's PT-23 Cornell was awarded "Judges Choice." The restoration
team was ecstatic! Whether or not she had won a prize, the -23
certainly had already won the hearts of all with whom she had come
into contact. Just what you would expect from a classy lady.'