And Now For Something Completely Different

As absolutely necessary as it is to engage in our current events, there’s also a time to add in something else that has nothing to do with anything else. And this is that.

My father gave me a little Kodak Brownie camera when I was 10 and I started taking pictures of everything. I graduated to his old 35mm Kodak “Pony” with a Leica rangefinder when he upgraded in my teen years. Somewhere along the line - as I had done by going to the movies at the old Park Theater on South Gaylord Street every Saturday afternoon from age 6 on - I serendipitously discovered the definition of “good work.” By the time I was in the Navy, armed with a Nikon-F I bought in Japan for cheap cheap cheap, the Chief Photographer’s Mate on the old USS Rustbucket told me I had the one thing that couldn’t be taught: an “eye” for a photo. After getting fired at Rolling Stone and getting such bad writer’s block that I had to go back to college and finish my degree to become employable at anything, another photographer friend suggested that - since I couldn’t write - I ought to take my photography more seriously. I studied composition formally, and fortuitously read the most important article ever written about photography, Henri Cartier-Bresson’s “On The Decisive Moment.” It turned out I had been doing that naturally, but when one sets out with it in mind, and how to open oneself to it, the success rate increases.

In 1972, I made the momentous discovery that people I knew who owned airplanes I really liked would give me rides in them in return for my taking photographs of them in the air. It’s not as easy as one might think: the number of planned photo missions that turn into actual events is around one in five: airplanes break, the weather doesn’t cooperate, somebody comes down with a cold, etc., etc. But it’s a field where persistence counts, and over the years that followed, I managed to take photos of and fly in everything from a World War I Curtiss Jenny to an F-4 Phantom and all in between. Nowadays I may not be agile enough to climb up the side of the fuselage into a cockpit, but I am not too proud to use a stepladder. Once strapped in, it’s all the same.

And the nice thing was that in 1978, William Green, author of the first “serious” airplane book I talked my father into buying me back at age 10, who at the time was editor of “Air Enthusiast” magazine in England, published my photos and an article about old airplanes, and put one on the cover; I turned into that oddball - a writer who can take photographs/a photographer who can write. And that led to the career I’ve had since.

Here in Southern California, almost everyone knows who The Condor Squadron is, though few know what they are. The four old World War II-era T-6 trainers flying a “finger-four” formation are seen every Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day over the Southland as they do memorial flyovers of the various veterans’ cemeteries in Los Angeles, Orange and Ventura counties. The sound of a T-6 is so individual you never forget it after you hear it - the “ripping snarl” comes from the propeller tips going supersonic. You can mention “those old airplanes flying on Veterans Day” to people and many will say “Oh yeah, them….”

As to who they are, the Condors are the oldest warbird flying club in Southern California, first organized at Van Nuys Airport way back in 1962. Their four T-6s carry spurious markings of World War II fighters. The pilots in the group are the usual mix of ex-military, corporate, airlines, and well-to-do private pilots one finds in the “warbird movement.” They fly more often than just those weekends, and back in The Time Before 2020, people bought rides with them - something that will start again.

I’ve been aware of them for 50 years, moreso since 2015 when Le Chateau du Chat was relocated to a position 1,000 feet below the right turnout departure pattern from Van Nuys Airport’s Runway One-Six. With the writing office facing the direction of the airport four miles away, and the window open, I often hear “interesting airplane noises.” The sound of a radial engine or a high-powered V-16 like the Merlin are unmistakeable to the knowledgeable airplane nut. At which point I hit “save” and run through the house and out the front door to see what it is. Over the years, I have seen the only flyable B-29 in the world (now joined by a second), the Collings Foundation’s B-17 and B-24, the world’s only flyable 1928 Ford Trimotor, and numerous warbirds that either live at Van Nuys or drop in for visits. I am the only person in the neighborhood who does this, though my fellow “entertainment biz” neighbor who lives across the street has gotten into going out and looking when he hears something while working on one of his motorcycles in his garage with the door open.

So, anyway, back in The Time Before in 2019, I decided doing an article about them would be a good idea. They knew my name and reputation, so I got invited along for a long flight out to Santa Barabara and back, to overfly a veterans’ cemetery on Saturday, November 10. It was one of those perfect Southern California fall Saturdays: severe clear, almost not a cloud in the sky, temperature in the low-80s at 3,000 feet. Perfect weather to fly with the canopy all the way open.

I was riding in the back of Condor One at the head of the formation. We took off from Van Nuys and I was immediately reminded that 40 years of effort on Clean Air has paid off: one can see clear across the San Fernando Valley on a normal day, rather than the smog back then that used to force me when I would fly down from Sacramento to overfly an airport and spot it looking down through the crud, then circle close and keep it in sight to get in the landing pattern.

We flew down over Topanga Canyon to Malibu, then up the coast past Camarillo with the Channel Islands visible, over Lake Sherwood, on to Santa Barbara.

Where we performed the “Missing Man” formation and ended up out over the Harbor.

Then flew back inland over US 101, having some fun with steep formation turns…

Then up to Santa Clarita for another “Missing Man”…

Where afterwards I got what I think is one of my best shots ever - about which John Dibbs, who is “god” among the 30 of us around the planet who do this regularly , said when I showed it to him, “I like this a lot!” Praise like that from him is truly manna from heaven.

Then back down into the valley, to make a low pass over the airport and land.

I did it again on July 4, 2020, when the Condors did a flyover of Los Angeles in place of that year’s canceled July Fourth Parade.

Over the empty Santa Monica Beach…

“Smoke on” coming back into the San Fernando Valley…

Among the fellow passengers was the guy in the back of the near airplane in these shots. Only in Hollywood do you get to find out that Vince Gilligan, the creator of “Breaking Bad” and “Better Call Saul” is a fellow airplane nut (he has a private license with a helicopter rating and is restoring a Vietnam-era Huey). And he’s as nice a guy as his interviews indicate.

So there. See? You do get stuff you can’t get anywhere else at TAFM. Something better than woe and war for a Saturday afternoon.

We will return to our regularly scheduled programming tomorrow.