The alarm clock went off at precisely 6:00am; which was the normal wake-up time for any trip that I’ve been on with Bob Moldenhauer. It was Sunday September 7, 2014 and we weren’t very far away from a handful of historic Presidential aircraft. Before we drove to the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, however, we wanted to stop at Woodland Cemetery and visit the graves of Orville and Wilbur Wright. I was in the backseat of the Avenger for the nine-mile jaunt to the 200-acre burial ground in Dayton, Ohio. Once we made it inside the cemetery, which was one of the oldest garden cemeteries in the country, we had no trouble locating the Wright family plot that was situated along Wright Brothers Lane.
The Wright burial plot featured a large stone at one end that featured the lettering WRIGHT inscribed on its face. That stone marker was surrounded by three flagpoles. On the opposite side of the plot we noticed three small granite markers – one for Wilbur on the left; another for sister Katherine in the center; and Orville’s marker was on the right. In the center of the plot we could see the grave markers of the Wright Brother’s parents Susan and Milton Wright that were somewhat obscured in the greenery.
After a 15-minute visit with the Wright’s, we had time to see one additional grave in Woodland – the final resting place of Johnny Morehouse. Back in the 1860’s, the five-year old boy was playing near the Miami & Erie Canal near his home and fell into the water. His faithful dog pulled the lad out, but it was too late – Johnny had drowned. Legend has it that several days after the boy was laid to rest in Woodland, the dog was seen standing guard over the grave; and he stayed there morning, noon and night. Townspeople began to worry about the dog’s health and would leave scraps of food for it at the gravesite. Today, the ornate tombstone that marks Johnny’s grave is of a dog looking skyward with a small boy laying at its feet. When I heard Bob tell that story of Johnny Morehouse to my photographer, I could feel my resin-filled heart nearly break; I have a soft spot for children and dogs.
Most impressive are the reports that people have seen what appears to be the statue of the dog breathing. Some have put their hands directly under the dog’s stone nostrils and felt these breaths. Do you believe in ghosts?
From Woodland Cemetery, it was a short six-mile drive to Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and the museum that was associated with it. We had about 20 minutes before the museum opened and we were third in line. The reason for our need to be early was the fact that visitors wanting to visit the Presidential aircraft hangar had to get tickets for a shuttle; and the first 30 people in line would be on the only bus onto the base that day. As planned, we had our tickets for the shuttle, although that bus didn’t depart the museum until 9:45am. That gave us roughly 30 minutes to see the museum.
I was carried around the museum in my case; but the top was left open so I could see some of the antique and historic aircraft that were on display. The one airplane that I was thrilled to see was a B-29 bomber known as ‘Bockscar’. On August 9, 1945, ‘Bockscar’ was flown over Nagasaki, Japan and its crew dropped the world’s second atomic bomb.
Alongside ‘Bockscar’ I saw a replica of ‘Fat Man’; the atomic bomb that was detonated over Nagasaki. The reproduction of the bomb was painted yellow and had black bands around its body. When I used my imagination, it reminded me of a giant goldfish cracker. But in reality, the original ‘Fat Man’ killed 35,000 Japanese people instantly when it was detonated over their city. It would take a lot of goldfish crackers to kill that many people.
In less than six weeks, I saw the only two aircraft in world history to drop atomic bombs on cities with the intent to kill its people – the ‘Enola Gay’ and ‘Bockscar’. I realize that the decision to drop those atomic bombs was to end World War II; and it worked. My only hope is that nuclear weapons are never used again for any reason – period!
It was time to board the shuttle bus for the short trip onto Wright-Patterson Air Force base and to the hangar where the retired Presidential aircraft were on display. My photographer carried me onto the bus and the three of us made sure we were in the front seat. Logistics were important for this visit because we had only one hour to tour the hangar before we had to be back on the bus. Mongo had a plan in place and he had my cameraman and I well-prepared for our time inside the hangar.
The ride from the museum to the hangar took about ten minutes. During that time, our guide spoke to the passengers and provided information about what we would see. He talked about the rules; he spoke about the history of Wright-Patterson; and he gave folks a chance to ask a few questions. And wouldn’t you know it, my photographer had a question!
“Can you tell us any information about the Roswell aliens that are being held at Wright-Patterson?”, said Tom with a wry smile.
The guide laughed and said that others have asked about the “so-called” aliens as well. He said that there had been a Halloween party on the base and some extraterrestrial alien dummies had been hung up for decoration. When the party was finished, the aliens were taken down; but they were not put into storage. A group of tourists that walked past the room saw the prop aliens; thought they were real; and that’s how the story got traction.
I could tell that my cameraman didn’t buy his story and neither did I. The Roswell aliens were transported to Wright-Patterson in 1947 and they are still there today; hidden and preserved in the mysterious Hangar 18.
We were the first ones off the bus and we hurriedly went inside the hangar – the clock was ticking and we had only 45 minutes to see everything. There were a lot of aircraft inside the large building, but we were focused on visiting a certain one first – Air Force One. When I first laid eyes on the huge silver, white and blue bird with the words ‘UNITED STATES OF AMERICA’ emblazoned above the windows, all I could envision was JFK and Jackie as they came out of the rear door in Dallas before they took their seats in the Presidential limousine.
The plane was beautiful and I posed for dozens of photos all around the exterior. I especially wanted to have photos taken of me with the painted American flag and the 26000 that was emblazoned onto the tail. I was excited as I was carried from side to side to get the best photo angle possible that replicated some photos from 1963. Next to the Wright Flyer, this was the most famous and historic airplane in American history.
It was time to board the plane to see the interior; I was carried up the steps located at the front of the aircraft. Once inside, the first thing I saw was the cockpit and all of the controls the pilot used to fly that magnificent bird. Headed aftward, I was carried down the narrow aisleway; made even more narrow by the plexiglass walls that were installed to keep bobble heads like me from standing on any of the plane’s furnishings.
Roughly halfway back, we stopped at a section of the plane that had been famously photographed on November 22, 1963 as Air Force One sat on the tarmac at Love Field in Dallas. It was the 16-foot square room where Lyndon B. Johnson was sworn-in as the 36th President only two hours and eight minutes after John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Federal district judge Sarah T. Hughes administered the oath to Johnson at 2:38pm CST. Nine minutes after Johnson took his left hand off of JFK’s personal Catholic missal (there was not a Bible onboard the plane), Air Force One departed Love Field for Washington with JFK’s casket situated in the plane’s tail section.
As we reached the back of the plane, we saw the spot where four of the plane’s seats had been removed on November 22, 1963 to make room for JFK’s casket. Although the seats were re-attached after the tragic events in Dallas, I could see the repaired saw cut in the bulkhead that was made by Secret Service agents as they struggled to get the casket situated inside the plane. Across the aisle from the area where the seats had been removed was a small private room where Jackie Kennedy rode during the return trip to Washington. I couldn’t imagine her sorrow; her shock; and her despair.
There was so much history made on SAM 26000; and as I was held in the rear of the plane, it was as though I could envision our slain President’s casket sitting in its place with grieving and shocked people all throughout the aircraft.
At the rear door of the plane, I stood on the interior latch that was situated directly below the plane’s famous Presidential seal. As I stood there, all I could think about was when John F. Kennedy and his wife walked through that door at Love Field in Dallas; they were smiling as the large crowd cheered. At that moment, JFK had only 45 minutes to live.
Next on our list was a Lockheed aircraft known as ‘Columbine III’; which was the Presidential plane that preceded SAM 26000 and took the place of ‘Columbine II’ – the first official Air Force One. Dwight Eisenhower flew in ‘Columbine III’ from 1954 until he left office in January 1961. Ike had named the plane after the state flower of Colorado in honor of his wife Mamie. Although ‘Columbine III’ was a Presidential aircraft, it lacked the aura of Kennedy’s plane and didn’t appear to be as streamline either. It looked like a typical air force plane; complete with an all silver-colored fuselage and three vertical stabilizers; or tail fins.
After I posed for a few photos alongside the nose of the plane, which was where the painted logo was affixed to the aircraft, I was carried inside for a quick tour. The interior was nothing special; it had seats and tables running along the main aisleway. At one point, I saw a mannequin of Eisenhower that was situated in one of the seats. At first, the figurine of Ike startled me as I didn’t expect to see anyone sitting in a seat.
I was hustled through the plane because there were still a couple of airplanes that we needed to see and there wasn’t much time left to see them. The next aircraft that that we visited looked like a giant blue and silver bald eagle; it was called ‘The Independence’ and was used by Harry S Truman from 1947 to 1953. Although the eagle motif was only of the head and a few tail feathers, it was the first Presidential plane to sport a distinctive painted exterior. Truman named the plane after his hometown of Independence, Missouri. In October 1950, Truman flew to Wake Island in ‘The Independence’ to meet with General MacArthur and discuss the Korean War situation.
Once I was carried off ‘The Independence’, we quickly scurried over to one last aircraft of interest – FDR’s ‘Sacred Cow’. In 1943, Franklin Roosevelt became the first sitting U.S. President to fly onboard an airplane. But in February 1945, FDR made his first and only flight on ‘Sacred Cow’ when he travelled to the Yalta Conference in it. Two months later, Roosevelt died.
My photographer tried to capture an image of me alongside Roosevelt’s plane, but with several people already on the steps and with our time running out, that photo never worked out. It was alright because our time inside that large museum/hangar was a free-for-all; a frenzy of 30 people all trying to get their pictures without a lot of time. Bob had mapped out a great strategy that we stuck to, and that scheme allowed us to be alone with JFK’s Air Force One; and that was the most important plane to us. SAM 26000 was the true jewel of the Wright-Patterson fleet, and I was proud to have been up close and personal with it; even though it brought back a flood of sad memories of 1963.
As we rode the shuttle bus back to the Visitor’s Center, my thoughts centered on John F. Kennedy. I felt closer than ever to our slain 35th President. After all, in the past five months, I had stood on the spot where Kennedy was shot; I was in the room where he was pronounced dead; I was in the room where he delivered his last speech; I stood on his grave marker in Arlington; and I was on Air Force One that brought him to Dallas and returned his body back to Washington. In my mind, the only JFK site left for me to visit was the car he was riding in when he was assassinated.
It was about 11:15am when we got back to the Avenger. Although our Presidential sites were finished for that trip, Bob and my photographer wanted to make a quick stop at an old friend’s house before we hit the road for home. Don and Amy Hall lived just north of Dayton and my two travel companions had known Amy since the 1970’s. That stop proved to be a great reunion. Sadly for me, I was not introduced to the Hall’s; although from my case I could hear my photographer and Bob talk about some of the experiences that I’ve encountered and places we’ve visited. I began to wonder if Tom was embarrassed to introduce me to his friends.
After our 90-minute visit with Don and Amy was finished, I was placed back onto my usual position in the backseat and we headed for home. One of the main conversations on the road back to Michigan was centered on the next trip – a short jaunt across our state to meet Jimmy Carter in Grand Rapids. I had hoped my photographer wouldn’t be too embarrassed to introduce me to President and Rosalynn Carter; I would love to have my photo taken while I was in the hands of a President. Either way, I had only two weeks to rest before my close encounter with our 39th President!
