Sixty-four years ago today, a plane crashed at Mt.
Charleston.
If you were outside in today’s beautiful sunshine, it’s
hard to picture the snow storm that was raging around Mt. Charleston on this date decades ago.
On November 17, 1955, a C-54 military cargo plane traveling
from Burbank to Area 51 went off course, hit that terrible storm, and
ultimately crashed into Mt. Charleston about a half a mile from the peak. All
14 men aboard were killed.
No one, not even the families of the deceased, knew the
details of the flight or why the men were on the plane until after the details
were declassified in 1998 – although if one persistent man hadn’t been
tenaciously pursuing information about the crash, those details still might
have been lost, ignored as insignificant and forgotten again.
For decades the remnants of the plane littered the area
around the trail to the peak of Mt. Charleston. One of the most distinctive
pieces left was a propeller, twisted and gnarled. I saw it when my hubby and I
made the peak in 1996, and we, like everyone else, simply knew a plane had
crashed there.
Today the propeller is part of a memorial to the men of USAF
Flight 9068, which is next to the Silent Heroes of the Cold War memorial for those who served during those years. According the Forest
Service’s fact sheet, it’s the only national memorial to the Cold War era
of its kind.
Not until I visited the memorial with my husband, who is
himself a Cold War veteran, did I learn the whole story of the crash. I picked
up a copy of “Silent Heroes of the Cold War Declassified” by Kyril D. Plaskon
in the gift shop and learned the true story behind the flight.
The book starts out with a thorough background of the Nevada
Test Site, where the infamous Area 51 is located, and its role in atomic
testing as well as the development of the U2 spy plane. The flight from Burbank
to Area 51 was a regular flight taking people who were working on the U2 back
and forth on a daily basis.
On the day USAF Flight 9068 took off from Burbank, the
flight was a little late taking off because the pilot waited to see if one of the regular passengers would show up (he had overslept, which was a lucky thing for him). At a little after 7 a.m., the very secret flight departed for Area 51. The flight took a route through the mountains and according to the book, near Goodsprings
it went radio silent, flying without contact with the flight tower as it made
its way toward the Test Site.
Unfortunately, a storm was approaching and they were blown
off course to the east. The pilot was flying by sight, but the storm clouds
made that difficult. The disoriented crew soon realized they were in trouble. In
the book, Plaskon describes the crew “...dodging peaks just above the trees and
snow covered mountain range when their normal flight path should have taken
them over flat desert.”
At 8:19 a.m., the plane slammed into the side of Mount
Charleston, killing everyone aboard.
Plaskon’s book describes the harrowing recovery mission
undertaken, which ultimately involved the Sheriff’s Mounted Posse, which was
the Search and Rescue of its day. A team that included Sheriff Butch Leypoldt
led 17 horses to the crash site to bring the bodies back down, a gruesome chore
carried out in the midst of terrible storm conditions.
The entire incident might have gone unremembered had it not
been for Steve Ririe.
Ririe had seen the crash site and became interested in
knowing more about it... then the crash site seems to have become interested in
him, so to speak. The book recounts Ririe’s slightly paranormal experiences,
all of which led him – some might say compelled him – to pursue the story of
the crash. The story he uncovered is the reason there’s a memorial now to
commemorate the men who lost their lives.
The Cold War had no battles to feature on the nightly news.
It was, however, a pivotal time in world history when the entire world was
holding its breath in the hopes of averting a disaster, a time of secrets and
spies that still holds mysteries like Flight 9068.
The U2 spy plane was considered vital to our country’s
efforts to prevail in the quiet fight that was happening, and the men who died
that morning on Mt. Charleston were instrumental in its development.
The next time you’re at Mt. Charleston, take a moment to
stop at the memorial. Ponder the propeller, preserved as it was found at a
little over 11,000 feet. We almost didn’t get to hear the whole story of that
flight and the men aboard it.
When you live in a famous city, you get used to reading
about your hometown. But very few Vegas-based books have a truly local setting. In “The
House Always Wins,” author Brian Rouff takes us to a part of town that doesn’t
make it to the Travel Channel, with characters that will ring a bell or two for
any long-time resident.
East St. Louis Avenue at Atlantic, looking west towards the Stratosphere
If you know anything about Las Vegas, you’ve heard of our
most famous street: Las Vegas Boulevard, a.k.a. The Strip, a.k.a. The
Boulevard. It’s sparkly and fancy and attracts the attention of over 40 million
visitors a year.
Unless you’re truly a local resident, however, you probably
have not heard of East St. Louis Boulevard.
Brian Rouff’s newest novel, “The House Always Wins,” opens
with a whirlwind romance that begins in Michigan and winds up in Las Vegas. Our
heroine, Anna, quickly succumbs to the charms of Aaron, a touring Vegas
musician, and in short order, Anna and Aaron are married with a baby on the way.
Finding a house quickly becomes a priority.
Homes along East St. Louis Avenue
Rouff describes the bulk of houses in Las Vegas with complete
accuracy: “Outside, some variation of an earth tone, a red-tile roof, and a
mottled textured coating they call ‘stucco.’ All accented with a patch of ‘desert
landscaping,’ meaning rocks, cactus and other bushes that require less than a
thimble of water to survive.”
Then Anna wanders into what’s now known as the Beverly Green Historic District, and is captivated by a two-story brick house that stands out
from the cookie cutters she's seen. I thought it sounded a lot like the house the Sahara's orchestra leader Jack Eglash once lived in (which was
actually further east in the Mayfair District), and in fact Rouff and his family
bought and remodeled Eglash’s former home in the 2000s. Today, that distinctive
home is gone.
Beverly Green, Mayfair and all of the aging/vintage neighborhood in this area hold a mix of homes that range from fully restored to vacant lots that once held homes, with everything in between.
This abandoned building on St. Louis was once a home that was converted to a dental office
Anna and Aaron take on the
fixer-upper and Anna finds that it comes with a ghost named Meyer Levin, who has
a lot in common with Moe Dalitz.
Looking west up East St. Louis from about 16th Street
Dalitz isn’t the only
local who makes an appearance, so to speak. One of my favorite nods to local
lore is the character of Ed Scott, a muck-racking reporter who’s ready to help
Anna fight a casino owner (imagine Bob Stupak crossed with Steve Wynn) to save
her property from becoming a parking lot. Just like local reporter Ned Day, a
man who covered the mob, Scott expires while swimming on vacation in Hawaii. (In real life, Day died of a heart attack while swimming--some would add "allegedly"--while the character of Scott drowns.)
Neither the ghost of Meyer Levin nor Anna are willing to let the
house get turned into a parking lot, but if you want to find out exactly what
happens, you’ll have to pick up the book.
Looking west up East St. Louis from John C. Fremont Junior High, my old junior high
The locations described throughout the book are very
familiar to me, since I grew up in the area, just a few streets from East St.
Louis Avenue. It’s a real pleasure to read a story set in my old ‘hood, and
anyone who knows Las Vegas will enjoy the attention to detail throughout the
story.
Beautifully maintained/restored home along East St. Louis
Rouff is also the author of two other Vegas-based novels, “Dice
Angel” and “Money Shot” (both of which are also quite good). I’ve seen a few comparisons
drawn between Rouff and Carl Hiaasen, although personally I was reminded of Janet Evanovich’s
style. In addition to being a great writer, I have to tell you he’s also one
heck of a nice guy, being kind enough to come speak to my former writing group
back in the day.
If you’re looking for a Vegas book that goes beyond the Strip,
pick up “The House Always Wins” and see a side of the city you don’t know
about.
*
I took the photos for this
post along East St. Louis Avenue traveling from St. Louis and
Atlantic west to just east of Las Vegas Boulevard, where the actual street
address of the house in the book, 339 E. St. Louis, would be, according to Google... if there were any homes there:
Look for a future series of
photos from me taken mostly in this area and the Mayfair District, where I
grew up.
Today’s update to Vegas Girl’s restaurant listing includes a
new cafe in Blue Diamond, plus other restaurants in the western part of the Las
Vegas valley.
I almost hate to write about Cottonwood Station Eatery in
Blue Diamond, not because anything was amiss, but because I don’t want this
rural gem ruined by too many visitors. Chances are I’m too late to save
this charming cafe from the ravages of popularity, however, especially since the waitress told me Mothers’
Day was crazy for the little restaurant. (I bet they’ll be overflowing
when Super Summer Theater gets going for the season at nearby Spring Mountain Ranch.)
My son and I drove out to Cottonwood Station on a weekday morning, when only a
handful of people were there. The interior design is a nice mix of eccentric
elements and a clean, modern style. I loved the finished particle board tables.
I had a breakfast sandwich, my son had a sausage roll, and
we both had coffee. For dessert we split a coffee cake muffin, which I had no
chance to photograph before we devoured it. I also had no opportunity to take a
picture of my son’s food before he ate it. Everything was quite tasty.
I loved everything about Cottonwood Station. The drive through
Red Rock to the cafe was beautiful. The food and coffee were yummy, the service
was friendly and efficient, and I was able to stroll around Blue Diamond
snapping pictures, something that generally arouses suspicion... unless there’s
a fancy new cafe in town attracting city people like myself.
Blue Diamond is home to less than 300 people and its
small-town ambiance is as genuine as it gets. Unfortunately, the threat of development on top of Blue Diamond Hill continues to loom as a possibility. The
two-lane lifestyle may be on a count-down here.
I suggest you visit the Cottonwood Station
now, before all the other people find out about it.
In February, about 50 dead rabbits were discovered on the
grounds of a mental health facility where bunny dumping has been going on for
years. Local rescue groups are still working to move any remaining rabbits off the grounds and are in need of animal carriers, water bottles, and
donations.
With Easter coming up this weekend, it seems like the right
time to talk about our rabbit problems.
Bunnies on the grounds of a local park
Bunny dumping has been a problem in Las Vegas for a long
time. I’m not talking about the wild rabbits you see when you’re out hiking.
The bunnies I’m talking about were once someone’s pet, right up until the point
when their person decided to abandon them. These bunnies aren't able to fend for themselves. For some time now, volunteers have been feeding and caring for rabbits at dump sites throughout Las Vegas and doing their best to adopt them out when possible (a rigorous screening process is involved).
Volunteers with Bunnies Matter were shocked to discover the dead
rabbits at the mental health facility last month. Poisoning initially was the suspected
cause of death, but autopsies revealed it was brunt force trauma, enough to
break ribs. Someone was unspeakably cruel to these bunnies, who were accustomed
to humans.
Two days before the dead rabbits were found on February 18,
the mental health facility passed around notices that the Nevada Department of Health had declared the bunnies a health hazard. (During the autopsies, the
bunnies tested negative for tularemia, one of the serious diseases the rabbits
were alleged to have. Prior to this point, there were no concerns voiced about
the rabbits carrying disease.) Further,
the notice said people were barred from feeding the rabbits and that the state
planned to relocate them. No one from Bunnies Matter had been told anything
about these new developments.
Interestingly, the facility itself had originally released
rabbits on the grounds, thinking it would be soothing for the residents. They neglected
to spay or neuter the rabbits, and so they wound up with a rabbit problem, exacerbated
by bunny dumpers.
After the dead rabbits were found, bunny rescuers sprang
into action, working diligently to move the remaining rabbits off the grounds. (At
its peak population, this dumpsite had about 1,000 rabbits.) When I spoke to
Stacey Taylor of Bunnies Matter a couple of weeks ago, her group was still
working hard to get all of the rabbits moved from the area. She said that baby
bunnies who had been in burrows waiting for their moms had started to come out,
likely looking for food since Mom had not come back.
With Easter right around the corner, there are unfortunately
a lot of bunnies who will wind up homeless after they become too big or too
much of a bother. That’s when a bunch of them will wind up being dumped
somewhere.
If you think a rabbit will make a fun Easter gift for the
kids, please rethink. Bunnies requite a lot of attention and care. They like to
chew on things. They get bored easily. If you’re thinking of getting a bunny, I
urge you to do some research on what’s involved with caring for them. Better
yet, I strongly urge you to reconsider and simply buy a stuffed animal instead.
Even better, visit some real bunnies at one of the adoption events Bunnies Matters hosts, and then make a donation. They're at the PetSmart on West Charleston every Saturday. Drop off a carrier and
a water bottle. Click over to the Bunnies Matter Amazon Wish List, and send
them something. Don't give bunnies as gifts this Easter--give the bunnies the gifts instead!
PETA is offering a$5,000 reward for the identification of the people responsible for the 50
rabbit deaths. The Nevada Capitol Police, a state agency, is also investigating
the bunny killing.
Have you seen the
dumped bunnies around Las Vegas? If you're not in Las Vegas, do you have a bunny dumping problem in your city? Unfortunately, many places do.
Last summer my son announced he wanted to find a place to
see the solar eclipse in full totality. Since last year’s eclipse was the first
one in 38 years and another won’t occur in North America until
2024, I agreed this was a great idea. Here in Las Vegas, you could only see the
eclipse with special glasses, but there was a swath across the middle of the
country where the eclipse would briefly turn day into night.
I thought about what
a fun trip it would be for the two of us, but August turned out to be a rotten
time for me to travel. Instead, I helped him plan his first trip alone. I mean,
it was time. He’s over 18, and the world awaits.
After checking on air fare to several cities in the path of
full totality, we settled on St. Louis, Missouri.
Next, we had to deal with a few age-related issues. Although
he’s over 18, he’s under 21.
For transportation, we quickly settled on a combination of
public transportation and Uber. Car rental was out of the question because he
doesn’t drive, and even if he did you need to be at least 21 to rent a car.
His first hotel choice was a place that required guests to
be over 21 (no exceptions, he was told by a very unhelpful hotel manager), but
we found a much better deal on Airbnb -- $100 less per night. I also liked the
Airbnb because I thought it was better for him to have a homier place to stay
since he was new to the city and traveling alone. Plus, he could get some insight
from the hosts about St. Louis.
I asked him to write about his first trip, and here’s what
he had to say.
Myflight left at 0045
and arrived at 0830, with an hour layover in Minneapolis. The first leg of the
flight was miserable. For the first 30 minutes, I couldn’t figure out how to
recline my chair, and I was afraid to move around too much and accidentally
bump into anyone. After a while I was able to figure out how to get that extra
two degrees I so desperately needed. However, reclining the back of the seat
moved the seat bottom forward, making the situation worse. Essentially it felt
like holding the iron chair position for three hours and forty-five minutes.
He was not impressed
with the Minneapolis airport.
Low drop ceilings, unnaturally humid, whole place smelled
strongly of eggs, not in a good way. Rubbery, unseasoned, microwaved eggs. The
men's bathroom had not been cleaned in 81 days according to the counter next to
the door.
Next, onward to St.
Louis.
My flight into St. Louis wasn't much better. They had a guy
with just a crescent wrench and a pair of pliers fixing something on the plane
right before takeoff, and the intercoms only emitted static. Very comforting
when you're supposed to be flying 10,000 feet up and right before you take off
they have to send in someone who looks more equipped to fix toilets, not
airplanes. However, I lived with only minimal spinal cord injuries.
Upon arrival in St.
Louis, he walked for what felt like a very long distance before finding the
MetroLink train he needed. After successfully boarding his first public
transportation of any kind (in any city), he was underway.
As the train ran along right beside the freeway, I was
feeling pretty good. Then we got to our fist stop. A toothless woman, who was
either old or had a drug problem (I would guess the latter), covered in what
looked like a lot of surgery scars sat down across from me. She immediately
began talking loudly on a cell phone about how stressed she was because she was
trying to sell a bottle to Sarah, but Sarah didn’t show up. Or something like
that. During her conversation, she stood up and sat down repeatedly. After a
few rounds of musical chairs, she settled into what I would call an ambush
crouch. I was very happy to get off the train and find myself in a nice
university campus with bike cops and “no smoking outside” signs.
His Airbnb was in a
historic home, circa 1895, and he was excited to see it. The hosts had agreed
to let him drop his bags off before check-in time so he could go see the
eclipse without his backpack.
I walked to my Airbnb to drop off my bags, but I couldn't
get into the door for the floor with the storage closet. (Turns out it was
actually a push door with a very strong return spring, not a pull door with a
sh*tty handle like I thought. Apparently fire code regulations about which way
doors open weren't around in 1895). I had to get going, so I just took my bag
with me and called an Uber so I could go get some food before heading out to
see the eclipse.
He had lunch at a
place called Cafe Ventana, one of the restaurants recommended in his Airbnb’s
house manual. Then it was off to Jefferson Barracks Park for the eclipse viewing
party.
After a long walk from the Uber drop-off point, I got to the
music and food trucks and found a hillside to sit on for a while.
I eventually
found a spot right next to the stage, where two photographer dudes (PMT Photography) from Boston
were taking pictures of the sun. I asked one man about his camera and we talked
for a minute before I went back to the tree I had staked out. I relaxed until
the eclipse was at about 75% then I moved out into the clearing next to the
photographer. A random group of people gathered--a dude with a lot of tattoos,
a guy and his girlfriend, me, and the photographers. We all watched the eclipse
together.
Here’s Cameron’s video of the eclipse.
I headed back to Cafe Ventana for a cup of coffee and to
contemplate what I was going to do next. I sat down in one of their giant,
wonderfully comfortable leather chairs and looked down to discover I had no
watch on my wrist. Immediately, I opened the Uber app and got a hold of the
driver, who turned right back around and brought me my watch. That driver was
one of the nicest people I’ve met.
After some deliberation, I decided to go to Pi Pizzaria. It
was the best pizza I’ve had in my life. I looked out the front windows while I
was eating, and I saw a sedan drive past with a dude sitting on the front
passenger quarter panel, smoking a cigarette and pointing forwards. I wish I
could have gotten a picture.
My room wasn’t quite ready yet, so I dropped off my
left-over pizza at the Airbnb’s fridge and walked over to the Cathedral Basilica. I wandered around their mosaic museum for a while, then went back upstairs
to take pictures of the mosaics on the ceiling, but mass started so I had to
leave. Lucikly, my room was ready by the time I got back.
My modest room had a Murphy bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. It
felt like I was in a Mark Twain novel.
Back at the Airbnb, he
took a shower and watched some YouTube before falling hard asleep. I woke him
up when I called at 8 p.m., and he was too groggy to chat for long.
His plans for the next
day included renting a bike to explore Forest Park and spending some time at
the St. Louis Arch before catching an afternoon flight back home. But, as
happens when you travel, his plans changed.
I woke up at 0630 the next day to heavy rain. I was a little
worried it might affect my flight back home, but the weather cleared up. It did
screw up my bike rental plans, though. So, Plan B. I went to see the Arch.
At the ticket trailer outside the Arch, they told me the
only tickets available were for 1700. I'd be long gone by then. Still cautiously optimistic, I went into the
Arch’s underground visitor center/gift shop. A greeter asked me if I was there
for a ride to the top. I explained that I couldn’t get a ticket, and he said
since I was early, I might be able to still get on since I’d shown up right
after they opened. So I talked to the ticket lady inside, who called the boss,
who apparently said “no.” Plan C was to go to the Arch’s museum, but it was under
construction. So I bought a horrendously overpriced umbrella in the gift shop and walked outside
to see that the rain had stopped for the most part. For a moment I thought
about throwing the umbrella in the Mississippi River, but decided against it
since it was still raining a little bit.
Next, he returned to
the comfy chairs at Cafe Ventana and came up with Plan D: visit the Missouri History Museum in Forest Park.
I took about 500 pictures there, so about 200 in focus. I hung out there as late as I could, and I still didn’t get to see everything in as much detail as I would have liked.
When it was time to leave, I walked around Forest Park for
about fifteen minutes before attempting to call Uber. That’s when my phone
decided to have no service, even after a restart. Luckily, public WiFi is
everywhere now, so I was still able to get an Uber to the airport.
When the hubby and I picked him up later that day, he was
tired and happy to be home. Returning home after an adventure is one of the
best parts of a trip. You’re tired but full of things to share. When you travel
solo, you also feel a sense of victory at having successfully made it there and
back. It’s one of my favorite feelings.
_______________
Did you get to see the eclipse in 2017? Have you ever been
to St. Louis?
Trying to keep your New Year’s fitness resolution? AquaMermaid
classes put you in a mermaid tail and are a fun way to
get a killer workout.
Anna Yatsko, AquaMermaid Instructor and former Silverton Aquarium Mermaid, making mermaiding look easy
If you’re diligently trying to stick to a fitness plan for
2018, let me give you a suggestion for any flabby middle parts you’re working
on: take AquaMermaid classes. Yes, you get to wear a tail (a.k.a stylish monofin), not only to stay
true to being a mermaid, but also because that tail is the key to really
working your core. Between the tail holding your legs together and the
resistance of the water, your abdominal muscles are in for a wake-up call.
I got to see the AquaMermaids in
action back in October, when their Las Vegas operation came online at the Municipal Pool on Bonanza in Downtown Las Vegas.
I had recruited a volunteer mermaid
to come with me as my appointed Person in a Swimsuit, but she cancelled at the
last minute. I briefly contemplated putting on the tail myself and getting in
the water, then I remembered that I never appear in a swimsuit in public. (Also,
it’s very difficult to take pictures while swimming and my Nikon isn’t
waterproof. Any excuse will do to keep me out of the water, honestly.)
Although I have a strict
no-swimwear policy, I’ll admit that when I met everyone at AquaMermaid, I wished
I’d brought a suit. Their merpeople come in all shapes and sizes, and everyone was
welcoming.
A local vlogger, Jacob Orth of the
YouTube channel Jacob’s Life in Las Vegas, was also at the class I attended.
Unlike me, he was brave enough to put on the tail and get in the water. As it
turned out, the biggest tail they had was bright pink, but Jacob was such a
good sport that he appeared not to mind at all. Watching him get lessons really
illustrated what a workout this is: he’s a very fit individual, and he was
definitely working hard.
Jacob Orth getting instructions from AquaMermaid founder Marielle Chartier Henault
In an interview with the RJ, AquaMermaid’s
founder, Marielle Chartier Henault, said that there’s a swim test before people
can participate. Based on what I saw, that’s a good idea. The fun factor could
easily convince you to overlook the physical demands of the class. While it
becomes immediately obvious that mermaiding works your core, it’s worth noting
that this activity will work your entire body plus provides what looked like butt-kicking
cardio workout (or should I say tail kicking?).
AquaMermaids in action
Anna Yatsko, AquaMermaid Instructor
Classes for kids and adults currently are offered on
Saturdays, and you can sign up online. Single classes are listed on the website,
but ask about monthly subscriptions if you’d like to make putting on the tail a
regular thing. They also do parties for kids and adults.
On September 26, 2017, the first RC model of a Vietnam Era EB-66C
made its maiden flight on the dry lake bed in Eldorado Valley, Nevada. The model’s
flight was the culmination of nearly two years of work by a volunteer team of
13 people, a labor of love created in tribute to the veterans who flew the
actual planes in wartime.
The first thing you notice about the EB-66C model is its
size. Second, it's incredibly detailed.
On launch day, I walked up to the model as Tony Accurso, John Morgan, and their team were busily working on last-minute preparations. This 1/8 scale model has a wing span close to ten feet and a
body length of nine and half feet--it's big. Every part of the model is astonishingly
detailed, especially the cockpit. The team had only photographs to go on and used
them to make a 3D printing of the cockpit, which was then hand painted. It even
includes tiny maps of Southeast Asia. Tony and John led the team
who built the model, and they describe themselves as “a little obsessive.”
With the launch imminent, it was an all-hands-on-deck
moment. While the team worked on the final adjustments, USAF pilot and retired
Lt. Colonel Robert Stamm looked on. He flew reconnaissance missions in the
EB-66C in Vietnam, and he and his wife were both there to see the model take
flight. He commented on how accurate the model was.
When the model was ready, the team positioned it for takeoff
on the lake bed. “Everybody step back,” Tony told the assembled group. “I don’t
want to be distracted by the cameras clicking.”
All of us dutifully retreated, and the EB-66C taxied along before
lifting itself into the air. The desert mountains in the background had just
started catching light, and the solar array in the distance almost looked like
a lake.
***
Tony became fascinated with the EB-66C when he saw the 1988
movie “Bat*21,” which was based on actual events. In the movie, the main character (Lt. Colonel Iceal "Gene"
Hambleton, played by Gene Hackman) is the sole survivor when his plane is shot
down in North Vietnamese territory. A massive operation takes place to rescue
him. It was a film (and an airplane) that stuck with Tony as a young airman--and remained with him.
Years later, retired vets Tony and John discovered there were
no RC models of the EB-66C. An 18-month project was born, and it was completed
entirely with donated time and funds. The team decided not to accept corporate
funding because it wasn’t in tune with the mission they’d given themselves: to
honor the men who had flown the plane.
The entire model plane world followed the build, but they
weren’t the only ones interested in the storied airplane. Tony contacted the B-66
Association and found Vietnam vets like Lt. Colonel Stamm. I heard about the flight from friends of mine, Diane Ciz and her husband, retired Major George Ciz, who flew 144 missions as an EWO (Electronic Warfare Officer).
Retired Lt. Colonel Robert Stamm in background. He was an EB-66C pilot during Vietnam.
***
“You lost a wheel,” someone said right after the takeoff,
but Tony was too busy steering the plane through the sky to say anything.
Tony said he had to remember to fly the model just like the
real plane, with a long, shallow climb. The real EB-66C was not a powerhouse of
speed, and neither was the model. It was, however, an incredible sight.
The plane slowly circled around us twice, then bounced down in
a touch and go, soared back up into the sky, and made one more loop before
setting back down roughly, skidding a little before coming to a stop. After the
dust settled, the team walked out to retrieve the plane, which was sitting
slightly askew because of its missing wheel, but that was the only damage.
The flight was a success and truly met its mission to be a tribute to those who served on the EB-66C.
You can see the entire video of the flight here:
_________
Special thanks to Tony Accurso for allowing me to be there
for the flight and to George and Diane Ciz for letting me know about the EB-66C
model project.
Kudos to the team who put the EB-66C together:
Tony Accurso, Evelyn Accurso, John Morgan, Brenda Morgan, Kirby Morgan, Wade Joos, Birger de la Pena, Scott Ramirez, James Klassen, Chris Wolfe, Chad Veich, Gary Gioia, and Karen Gioia.
All pictures by Terrisa Meeks. I'll be posting more pictures from the flight on my Flickr page soon.
I’m surprised someone hasn’t created an app yet to track
sightings of O.J. Simpson, who was recently released from prison and is now
living near the Red Rock Country Club.
Allegedly, O.J. Simpson wants to move to Florida, but while
he’s trying to get that figured out, he’s taken up residence in Summerlin.
While I commend O.J. on his taste in neighborhoods, I have to say it was bizarre
to see him strolling around the Tivoli Village Farmers Market last Saturday. I
totally forgot to buy half the things I needed.
He’s just as gracious as you’ve heard. When I first saw him,
I spotted him because of the small group of people standing around him taking
pictures. I recognized O.J. immediately. While I could’ve easily walked right up
to him and asked for a photo, I didn’t... because: a) I was raised not to
bother celebrities in public, regardless of how infamous they might be; and b)
it just felt wrong.
Instead, I snapped a pic from a distance--but he had seen
me and smiled and waved for my picture. And yes, I smiled and waved back. He’s
charming, even from a distance and even if you know all about his history.
Now, the new game in town seems to be who can spot O.J.
while he’s out and about. If I had spent nine years in a prison in Northern
Nevada, I would be outside every chance I got, no matter how many people took
pictures of me. Apparently O.J. feels the same way because social media and
local news have had a steady stream of O.J. Sightings. Apparently he likes
Grape Street up in DTS and Wahoo’s over at Boca Park. Considering how many
great restaurants Summerlin has, I imagine he’ll find plenty of places to try.
I’ve heard from at least one person who plans to go out this
weekend in pursuit of an O.J. Sighting. I don’t think he'll have to
look too hard.
Summerlin and Brentwood could be cousins, ambiance-wise, which makes me
wonder if that’s part of the reason O.J. seems to feels so comfortable here. We even have a Rockingham Drive. (Random Factoid: Simpson’s L.A. home on
Rockingham Avenue--the house we all saw on TV--was demolished in 1998.)
While it’s incorrect that the Las Vegas jury or judge had
any “payback” in mind with the robbery verdict, O.J.’s incarceration for robbery was related to the murders, if you think about it. While he was acquitted of the criminal charges, he was
found liable in a civil lawsuit and was ordered to turn over assets to go toward the $33.5 million the Brown and Goldman families were awarded. O.J. and his
pals hid his assets to avoid turning them over. He claimed the items he was “recovering”
here in Vegas were stolen from him, which is obviously debatable considering his scheme to hide property. Pursuing legal actions to get the items back would have subjected them to the dreaded turnover order. Had he not been trying to
avoid the order, he probably wouldn’t have had a reason to rob anyone.
And if he would have taken the plea deal he was offered for
the robbery, he would have been sentenced to about 30 months.
He could have been out working on his golf game a whole lot
sooner.
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Would you take a picture with O.J? Leave your answer in the
comments.
