Fantasy of Flight, “The Real Stuff”

By JR Hafer

When entering Fantasy of Flight at Orlampa, Florida. It is “Magic” and nothing else short of that word can ever come close to describing it! There are no other words that can be used to adequately describe the emotional stirring of the experience.

Certainly many articles have been written of venues that have impressed us. They have often given cause to the overuse of superlatives in describing our experiences. The over use of the mighty word of “Magic” for example, has taken the real value of painting a descriptive emotional image, and cheapened it to an everyday “flag waving” un-word. In other words, it has lost its magic!

But this magic is different! It is almost sacred, reverent or perhaps respectful is the proper word to use. Yes, absolutely, that’s it respectfulness, there is an atmosphere of respect there! Respect for what? Read on you’ll see…

It is the “Real Stuff” not the fairy land magic you experience with the “Glitz and Glamour” of the local world famous attractions nearby. The reason is everything you see is authentic and true aviation history! 

Oh, "Where is Orlampa?" I thought you might ask... Well, don’t try to find it on your map! You’ll not find it there. It only exists within the gates and the vision of “The Wizard” at his 300 plus acre Fantasy of Flight complex, Kermit Weeks, and a few thousand others.

Actually the physical location is near Polk City, Florida at exit #44 on Interstate 4 halfway between Tampa and Orlando, of course. Thus, “Orlampa”…

Fantasy of Flight is NOT a “Theme” park! Although, it does have a definite theme; the theme outwardly seems to be aviation, however, if you look very close you will find it is actually in your own heart…

One can immerse themselves in authentic aviation at Fantasy of Flight, absorbing the historical experience that will touch your heart. I am convinced souls bless and watch over that place, teaching those who will allow themselves to be moved by such sacrifices made for America. 

Fantasy of Flight is NOT an “Amusement” park! Although you will definitely be amused! Fantasy of Flight is NOT a museum where often exhibit are replicas. At Fantasy of Flight every aircraft is flyable.

Every day they have Tours of the rebuild shops and some of the planes are actually flown. If you feel brave you can even purchase a ride in a biplane or a balloon. 

Fantasy of Flight is NOT a “Kiddy” park! Although you will definitely feel like a Kid again! You know what they say about the difference between boys and their toys. 

Yes, Fantasy of Flight is surely MAGICAL, but there is no “Fantasy” to it. The fantasy has evolved to a vision and to a journey for Kermit Weeks; and again it has morphed into a sharing of a journey. Kermit Weeks is sharing his journey with the public thereby the public becomes a part of the journey with him.

Mr. Weeks says, “Everyone can relate to the metaphor of reaching for the sky and the stars, we can soar in our imagination, and we can fly in our dreams, and we want to get people to push their boundaries and strive to be all they can be.”

He has surely done that, he has flown and won many medals in the worlds aerobatics Championships and was United States national aerobatics Champion twice, just to mention a few of his many accomplishments. He is an aeronautical engineer, author, member of the Tony Jannus Society, The Florida Aviation Historical Society, member of the aviators hall of fame.

Kermit Weeks has created a place where people would, if they could, actually come and work without pay just to be around the ambiance and friendly atmosphere there, if he would let them. Now, that is MAGIC!

There is more than magic at Fantasy of Flight, it is more than just ambiance, the hangers are steeped with History I believe those souls who gallantly sacrificed their lives in aircraft like those represented there, are smiling and blessing the place.

There is something missing though: I have been there many times and as I meander around talking to the staff, all of them take the time to talk to me I don’t ever feel as though they wish I would stop talking and move on. I have noticed each one of them lack the one thing all businesses seem to battle constantly though; that is negative attitudes and high stress levels.

The staff at Fantasy of Flight seems to have “zero” levels of stress! Either I have been blind to it or that fact has eluded me. Now, that’s really magic. Because stress comes from the top, therefore Kermit Weeks must have the Magic touch. You got to respect that!

There I go again! I have used the word “Magic” many times? But each time the word Magic was used for REAL VALUE sake, I guarantee it. Fantasy of Flight is for Real, something everyone can respect and so is Kermit Weeks!   

Fantasy of Flight has the Magic, and it is the REAL STUFF! 

By; JR Hafer  http://jrhaferaviationblog.com/

           Ken Kellett Doing The Impossible Again

  By JR Hafer

Have you ever met someone who just amazed you with their knowledge, audacity and grit? Well if you meet Ken Kellett you will have!

Ken Kellett is a stunt pilot, vintage airplane builder and he can stand toe to toe with any aviator and dazzle him with his knowledge, ability and experience.

Kellett is currently working on a project for Kermit Weeks who the sole owner and operator of Fantasy of flight near Polk City Florida.

There at Fantasy of Flight Ken Kellett working in the wood Shop is building, from scratch with almost no information and no help and very little drawings of original scamatics, the Benoist XIV Flying Boat which was flown by Tony Jannus January 1, 1914 across Tampa Bay from St. Petersburg to Tampa. It was the very first commercial flying service across Tampa bay.   

Ken is building it for the centennial celebration in January 1, 2014 where it will actually fly across the bay. Flown by Kermit Weeks; he has nerves of steel he is a real superman if you ask me! Kermit has faith in Ken and that proves it almost every day as he flies Ken’s handy work.

Building the ribs, wings, fuselage, engine housing, all the components and control systems and I don’t know what all else, baffles the mind. But this isn’t Ken’s first Rodeo, so to speak. He has built almost fifty other airplanes from scratch, including an exact replica of the Wright Brothers first airplane the Kitty Hawk Flyer.

Then flew his Kitty Hawk flyer that he built, in North Carolina at Kitty Hawk where the Wright Brothers did in 1903 only exactly seventy five years later, on the anniversary.

Ken Kellett started his aviation career at the tender age of 12 and he is still going strong, with lots of experience under his belt. You are going to be hearing a lot about him through my articles over the next while. He and another amazing gentleman Kermit Weeks who has a vision that is contagious and exciting to anyone who likes aviation.

I cannot imagine a pilot or anyone who likes airplanes who has not been to Fantasy of Flight I suggest you go. I will bet you can go just once!

“After one has flown, he will forever walk this earth looking skyward, for he has been there…

And he will always long to return…”

Ford’s Flying Car

By, JR Hafer

A lot of folks don’t know that the man, who was famous for the Model “T” Ford among others and the first assembly line concept, also manufactured airplanes.

Ford’s first successful airplane venture that was a commercial success was the Ford Trimotor in 1925. But Henry Ford had another vision. Just as he had envisioned the Model “T” as the car for every family, he also saw in his mind the opportunity for every family to own an airplane. Thus; the Ford Flivver was conceived, designed and built.

Bill Stout was approached with the idea. After-all he was the manager of the newly acquired aircraft division for Ford.

Mr. Ford wanted the Flivver designed to the size small enough to fit inside of his office, not that he ever wanted it there. It looked a lot like a toy a kid would ride in around the yard.

The test pilot for The Metal Airplane Division of Ford Motor Company Harry J. Brooks, in 1926, used the Flivver to fly home at the end of the day north of Ford airport. They called it the flying car.

When Henry Ford proudly put his “Flying Car” The Flivver on exhibit the American public crowded to see the little single seat, single engine monoplane. There was a lot of excitement in the air for the little bird.   

15.5 length, 21.9 wingspan, 500 lb Gross wt., 2 cyl, 36 HP 90 MPH, Stall speed 30mph,

The Flivver fuselage was made of welded steel tubing with fabric covered wooden wings. A tail dragger with a steerable tail-wheel and the only brake was on the tail-wheel. The Flivver had a stock model T exhaust routed a special manifold.    

In 1928 “Brooksie” as his friends affectionately called him, set out in an updated Ford Flivver to set a record from Detroit to Miami, Florida.

First attempt he was forced to make an unscheduled landing in Asheville, North Carolina to refuel. Another attempt ended in Titusville, Florida due to a bent propeller.

February 21, 1928 Brooks was lost trying for the same record off the coast of Melbourne, Fl crashing in the Atlantic Ocean, never to be found.

Crash investigation based on pieces of the little plane that later washed ashore, determined that a matchstick had plugged the vent hole of the gas cap and caused the engine to stop.       

There were no more Ford Flivvers built or marketed under Ford. However, other light plane designs were developed under Ford and Stout.

Only 6 Ford Flivvers were ever produced.

A replica of the Ford Flivver can be seen at EAA Midland, Michigan Airventure Museum.

A Southern Military School Tradition

The late nineteenth century brought an explosion of military schools and colleges in the southern United States due to the Morrill Act of 1890, which was a land grant act to promote militia based schools and colleges in the south.

Virginia in particularly established an inexpensive and practical education for the South's young men. Unlike most northern land-grant colleges, southern military high schools were generally founded or were church rooted institutions. The Southern Baptists for example heavily supported two of the leading academies, Fork Union Military Academy and Hargrave Military Academy.

These schools went far beyond the Morrill Act's requirement that these schools offer some instruction in military tactics.  

Instead, southern schools saw the opportunity to capture a unique perspective for a great mix of discipline and focused education. They organized themselves with a military theme much like West Point, Annapolis, and Virginia Military Institute (VMI).

They were an all male boarding academy that required their students to be in uniform and subject to constant military way of life and discipline twenty four hours per day.

Over the years there has become a tradition in many southern families to attend high school at the same military academy that father or grad-father did, and then go on to the same military college as well.

The Virginia hills were peppered with fine military academies. Many tucked away in beautiful scenic Virginia mountainous and piedmont areas. Fishburne Military School, in Waynesboro, Va. And Fork Union, near Charlottesville, Hargrave Military Academy, in Chatham, Va. Randolf-Macon Academy, and Massanutten Military Academy in Woodstock, Va.  

There is Oak Ridge Military Academy, in Oak Ridge, North Carolina. In Melbourne Florida there is Florida Air Academy.     

There are two schools of thought on why people sent their male child off to military school in the 1950s and 60s. The first way of thinking and I support wholeheartedly, because I was there and I experienced it; folks had the choice of reform school or military school due to the kid becoming uncontrollable and constantly in some sort of trouble. This choice was a last ditch effort to keep the kid out of jail!

Often a judge would give a parent and a undisciplined kid who had gotten into several scrapes with the law an ultimatum, Military school or reform school! Sometimes it straightened the kid out and sometimes it didn’t.

Secondly, and surly there were many students within this criteria as well, there were student who attended because they wanted to be there for the program and the excellent scholastic reputation of being ahead of public education was well known. Also very qualified instruction and small teacher to student ratio was a popular thing too.

Each military academy stressed a focus on education and small classes, physical activity with rigorous sports programs and strict Military discipline, with PUNISHMENT !

There have been some military school cadets that have risen to great heights and success in there life. For example, Army Major General William Caldwell who himself graduated from Hargrave Military Academy, The same military academy I did.

In my day military school was a fine thing and I am very proud of having attended a couple of them. One year at Fork Union Military Academy, at Fork Union Va. and five years at Hargrave Military Academy, in Chatham Virginia. It was the discipline and structure that literally saved my life over the years several times. I do not exaggerate.

However, in these days the landscape in this world has totally changed. What I am about to say invites controversy.

From my perspective I see that the world of education as well as the world of all Military including military schools changing drastically.

To survive, the Military schools have needed to become co-educational. The rules have changed to accommodate the girls.

An example of change: Once if you talked back to a superior cadet officer, you’d be picking yourself up off the floor… That to say after you have done 500 push-ups!

“Oh”, you might say, “that’s abuse?” Ohhh-ok... you’re right, but back then it was discipline! Tough, get over it! Right?

Crying? “There’s no crying in Baseball”  Famous line by Tom Hanks in a Movie

Can you imagine a Cadet crying in formation because she got chewed out for giggling about some cute little butterfly fluttering around the nose of the company commanders?

I probably the least bigoted person you’ll ever meet. With that said; we never had any blacks at military school when I was there. I wish we had, maybe then I would have had some friends.

If I were a Black man I would agree with Mr. Bill Cosby! I would shout from the roof tops and really be angry at the educational system.

Upon integrating the schools in the south they system criteria of study was lowered because the departments of education felt the blacks were not as smart as the white folk, therefore they made the school criteria easier. I would raise hell!

Politically correct? Only politicians need to be politically correct! Women don’t demand special treatment. They pee in the ditches of Afghanistan when they have too just as the men do. They don’t demand anything except to be able to prove themselves. Blacks too they just want to be accepted as equals and they are.

The southern military schools that have been flexible enough and able to change with the times have become a tradition and will be a proud part of Americana for many years to come.       

Military schools of today have become excellent preparatory schools for service academies, and to give teenagers the opportunity to examine their interest in the possibility of pursuing higher education at a Military Institution and ultimately possibly a Military Career.

What once was an answer to some for an unmanageable kid has now definitely become a Southern Military School Tradition. 

By JR Hafer    

The Fabric of Freedom

by, JR Hafer 

 Even before the smoke cleared on September 11, 2001, immediately after the successful attack on America in New York City, the Twin Towers belching smoke thousands of feet into the air and at the invincible Pentagon in Washington, DC with a gaping parched hole in the outer ring not to forget the failed jet, spread all over a western Pennsylvania meadow; American flags rose and flew in statements of American solitude and patriotism across this great land.

Americans stood and made speeches vowing that we would not let some radical faction terrorist group hold our great nation hostage to fear and they would never interrupt our way of life!

We all held our fists in the air and shook them at the enemy in defiance and vowed we would not let their actions of terrorism scare us. That we would not let it change the way we lived and we would not cower to their threats of future attacks!

Guess what folks! September 11, 2001 did change our lives, of course it did and we would be foolish to hide our heads in the sand and say that it didn’t!  

What happen to all the flags that went up and flew in support of our beloved nation after America was attacked on that devastating September day in 2001?

What happen to the American flags that so proudly waved to all that passed declaring our patriotic spirit and pride standing tall over our door steps for several months afterward?

Sadly… later that same symbol, now tattered and torn, the symbol of our pride, the symbol of our spirit started to wane, looking poor and defeated and forgotten, eventually falling to the ground, soiled and tarnished as others walk all over that once proud banner of spirit and pride then hauled off with the refuse and put on the garbage heap and forgotten until once again needed ?

Has memories of the folks lost in the attack on America on September 11, 2001 also started to fade? Where is that patriotism now folks? Just once a year or once every ten years to remember our lost is not enough!

Rather than constructively move forward in harmony and dedicate that progress as a memoriam to those who died on September 11, 2001 our country seems to be losing direction.

Instead we are hearing bickering, bitching and moaning from Washington D.C. and everybody talking about our system being “broken”!

The mud-slinging by politicians and business executives who dodge taxes and shirk their responsibilities, shame on you!

Nobody doing much about getting our men and women back from fighting on foreign soil,

The truth is we have more Americans on more foreign soil fighting in secret clandestine operations than ever before.

Nope Washington isn’t broken, America is, and we need to do something about it.

We can build monuments and have memorials to those lost on that black day but I truly believe that they would want us to fly the American flag every day in memory of them all. I think that would be the ultimate remembrance for them and the highest honor to every American who lost their life in the Attack on America on the black date in September 2001.  

Will you join me and fly an American flag from Friday through Sunday, September 11th, 2001 at every home, apartment, office, and store in the United States?

Every individual should make it their duty to display an American flag on this tenth anniversary of one of our country's worst tragedies.

We do this to honor those who lost their lives in the attack on America September 11, 2001 and, their families, friends and loved ones who continue to endure the pain.

We include those who today are currently fighting abroad to preserve our cherished freedoms as well as those who will never be recognized by the establishment and have fought the secret clandestine wars and faithfully followed the orders they were given.

Wear a Patriotic t-shirt or pin or both, or simply anything Red, White and Blue. Thank a Veteran, for you never know what he may have done in helping to purchase freedom!

In the days, weeks and months following September 11, 2001, our country was bathed in American flags as citizens mourned the incredible losses and stood shoulder-to-shoulder against terrorism. Sadly, those flags have all but disappeared. Our patriotism pulled us through some tough times and it shouldn't take another attack to galvanize us in solidarity.

Our American flag is the fabric of our Integrity, Democracy and our Freedom.

Americans should fly the flag year-round, but if you don't, then at least make it a priority on this day. Show your patriotism!

Thank a Veteran!

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A COMMENT AND EXPRESS YOUR OPINION, (JRH) 

My Blue Ridge Mountain Soul

By JR Hafer

I have heard it said, “To appreciate the beauty of what you have, you must go elsewhere and look back”.  Perhaps that goes double for my Blue Ridge Mountains.

When I was young and I hiked along the trails I would see the bright colored flora and often I would stumble upon and scare a white tail buck. But I was never awed by the experience.

Sometime I would hear the rooting and squeals of wild Boar Hogs along the gorge at Linville, but I never appreciated it, not really. I just took it for granted because it was always available to me, whenever I wanted to go hiking along those trails.

One never quite appreciates what one has until one has it no more!  

The beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains has always been tucked firmly deep within the cockles of my heart and I hold that scene, within my memory for my lifetime no matter where I abide.

When I left my childhood home, the memory of the mountain-cape has long been the source of my strength and a vision of my return has been my source for continuing on when otherwise I would have given up the fight long ago.  

The Blue Ridge is the part of the Great Smokey Mountains that border eastern Tennessee and western North Carolina.  The eastern shelf of the Appalachian Mountain range so to speak. Some folks just call the whole thing “The Smokies”.

Vacationers returning home are at a loss for words trying to explain to friends and relatives the soothing feeling and medicinal affect on their psyche that the western North Carolina Mountains have on them.

There is nothing better in this world than waking up after a good night’s sleep, and there is no doubt about it, you do sleep well in the clean fresh mountain air, going to the porch and feeling the crisp morning chill, while sipping a steaming hot cup of coffee.

 While you are listening to the wild creatures starting wake up in the forest, you realize the tension and troubles are literally draining from your body, down your legs and out your toes.

You wrap your hands around and warm them with your coffee cup, and all you can do is take a deep breath and smile, knowing you have succeeded in your mission. 

The morning dew dripping from the leaves, listen to the morning serenade of the wood thrush, tufted Titmouse, Downy Woodpecker, Yellow-bellied Sapsucker and Canadian warblers waking up the rest of the wild life with their cheery songs.

Another Banging sound comes from a can lid falling to the ground as a mama bear forages a neighbor’s garbage.

The morning haze looks just like smoke, (that’s how the “Smokies” got their name), while the sun peeks over the next ridge and tosses its warm rays gently through the morning fog.

There is nothing like the aroma of folks cooking on and over a open fire, burning spruce, pine and oak, maybe some Hickory and a little bit Fraser fir too. All that mixed in with the scent of fresh bacon frying in the pan and coffee boiling on the stove. Wisps of smoke escapes a chimney somewhere bring a symphony of more aromas, maybe flapjacks and maple syrup too?   

There is a rustle in the forest, probably under the rhododendron or the pin cherry or the thornless blackberry maybe a family of gray-cheek salamanders are waking up and stirring around. The bull Frog or wood frog might it be? Or perhaps a spring peeper! Who knows?  

The purity of my love for the mountains runs so deep through every fiber of my being. Not even the snow covered Swiss Alps with the pyramidal peak of the grand Matterhorn or the majestic Himalayans with its ever beckoning Mount Everest peeking from “the roof of the world” at the altitude of 29,000 feet, can it even compare with my beloved Blue Ridge Mountains.

There are animals that walk for hundreds of miles to reach that special place they seek to die. The Elephant is one who does that. Maybe I’m like the elephant? The far reaching spirit of my dreams gives me the deep desire to return to the North Carolina Blue Ridge Mountains, if only before I die.  (August 2011)

The American Tradition

Heroes Thrown out with the Trash

A Series Part One

Eugene Hasenfus is an American hero. He never wanted to be and he will deny it if you would ever ask him. Actually he refuses to talk about the past. Not many folks know how to get in touch with him and he will not talk about the past anyway. Quite frankly, I can’t blame him a bit!

The German name Hasenfus means “rabbit’s foot” and it tends to make one think of good fortune. But that isn’t the case for the man who worked for CIA’s Air America in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War and later with the CIA flying arms resupply missions to the rebels over Nicaragua in the mid-1980s.

Twenty five years ago the “lid was blown off” of a clandestine mission when Gene Hasenfus an air-crewman aboard a Fairchild C-123 N4410F was shot down by the Sandinista militia in Nicaragua, while “kicking out arms and supplies” for the rebels over that country.

Hasenfus parachuted to safety and two pilots and a radio operator died in the fiery crash. Even though wearing parachutes was against the CIA rules, Hassenfus was able to jump to safety. He had borrowed a parachute from a skydiver prior to leaving on the trip and he had brought it along. His name meant “rabbits foot” not “dummy” and this was a lucky choice.

The Sandinista Government captured and put Gene Hasenfus on trial in Nicaragua. The U.S. news media ate it up and all HELL broke loose in the states. The media wanted “heads to roll and by god the bigger the better” said one reporter.

The news media “smelled blood” and like a pack of wild dogs they were on the hunt.

It is a fact of life that when this happens shredders start singing,

Eugene Hasenfus is 71 years old an ex-Marine and a member of an association I am very proud to belong to. But he is poor in spirit not well at, all from what I understand. I have not talked to him because I do not want to invade his space. I do want him to know, that I think he is a HERO and I want to apologize for my country throwing his service out with the trash.

It is time to say we are sorry for the way we treated you and to say thank you for your service! So...

Thank you Mr. Eugene Hasenfus!     

Blogger’s Note: If you know anyone who served in Southeast Asia during the 1960’s and 1970’s please forward them this by email and ask them to join our blog. Perhaps they know someone who might like to share a story about their Hero. It is important that we get these stories out. Too much time has gone by without a thank you… Please make a comment & pass the word!