[oasis-members] Odyssey Call for Submissions

[Rfoxbro at aol.com]

Lisa:  Here's a nice prosaic story from my forthcoming "A Pilgrim  Muddles 
Through" called  BLIMPERY. It may be of interest to local readers.  Feel free to 
cut it to size.  Bob
 
 
BLIMPERY 
About 5 miles down the street from us, in a large open lot at the edge of  
the City of Carson, off of 190th  street, lives the Goodyear Blimp. When it is 
not  gainfully employed taking TV pictures of major events, it prosaically 
takes five  lucky rubber-neckers on a half hour ride. It earns its living by 
looking down on  the Rose Bowl, the Colosseum, the Dodger’s and Angels’ stadiums, 
and at other  spectacles when there is action. At night, it is often employed 
exhibiting  dynamic advertising messages on night flights by illuminating 
myriads of colored  lights. The passengers fortunate enough to have made the cut 
are people who have  done something nice for Goodyear – like equip their fleets 
with tires or manage  a dealership.  
Usually the Blimp goes straight West and overflys the Hermosa and  Redondo 
Beach  sea shores and marina before heading back to the nest. On foggy days, it 
might  go South and fly over Long  Beach harbor, an equidistant flight which 
is likely to be  not so fogbound. On a nice day, the Blimp might make 8 voyages 
on one hour  centers. Oh, how we ached to get a ride! What a thrill it would 
be! But, it has  proven to be very difficult for civilians to become 
sightseers. Some special  gimmick was required, and I never found out what it was, 
until  ------: 
In the early 90’s, as I was assembling my pack-ratted papers as a prelude  to 
starting my book writing, I ran across a TRW interoffice correspondence,  
dated 12 November, 1982, that I had originated whose subject was, “Visit of  
Goodyear Representatives”. We had just initiated work on a NASA ‘Request for  
Proposal’ for the design and construction of a protected hangar to be added on  
to the in-planning manned Space Station. The hangar was to be a large enclosed  
work area where Station engineers and technicians could assemble and 
refurbish  spacecraft, to be later re-launched from the Station. A ‘shirtsleeve’  
environment was desired, precluding bulky space suits.   
My past experience suggested that an inflatable structure might be the  best 
solution to the problem. I convinced the proposal managers to let me  arrange 
a briefing which would demonstrate how such structures could be designed  and 
deployed. I then asked Goodyear people in Akron, the birthplace of the blimps, 
to come  and help with the briefing. At the end of an edifying day, the lead 
Goodyear  engineer said to me, “Bob, how would you like a ride on the Blimp”. 
When I  answered affirmatively with much fervor, he said he would arrange it 
and that  someone would call me. I salivated freely at the thought of what 
would soon  come. 
Well, as it turned out, the call never came. But now, 12  or so years later, 
on finding the ancient document, I thought, “Could this be  the ‘hook’ to get 
us a ride”? Memo in hand, I went to the Goodyear blimp base in  Carson and  
argued my case. They said they would take it under advisement, even though the  
Goodyear Airship Operations were now a separate company from Goodyear Tire 
and  Rubber. As before, they said, “Stand by for a call!” I didn’t hold my 
breath.   
But, wouldn’t you know it, a few weeks later, on the  morning of the day our 
two German house guest’s, Gretel and Gisela, were going  to fly back to 
Deutschland at 5 p.m., the call miraculously came in: “Can you  make it at 3 p.m. 
today?” “Nope, we have two foreign guests who must make a 5  o-clock plane to 
Germany. Can we have a rain check?”.  “OK, can all four of you make it at noon 
today, then?” You bet we could!!! My  wife said, “I love it!”, and our 
friends excitedly chattered away in their  native tongue at such a pace that I 
couldn’t begin to interpret – but I knew  they were delighted. What a wonderful 
going away present for our guests and for  us! An experience of a lifetime!  
We arrived at the Blimp Port at 11:30, our car packed to go  immediately to 
the airport after the flight. The good ship “Eagle” was perched  on her 
swiveling mooring pole in the middle of a grassy field. Its small, in  comparison 
with its overall size, gondola dangled a foot or two above the  ground, pointed 
into the prevailing wind from the West. Many man-handling  mooring lines hung 
down from the hull and a crew of about 12 appeared ready to  assist in take–
off and landing operations.          The sole pilot, Captain Tom Matus, greeted 
us and escorted us out to the  gondola, whereupon a crew member assisted the 
ladies aboard. The cabin actually  had seats for 6 passengers, but Tom 
explained that new safety laws had prevailed  and limited the number to five. The 
cabin décor was much like that of a medium  luxury car, with big viewing windows 
looking in all directions. We put on our  seat belts, were warned not to fall 
out, were positioned nose-up by the crew in  the proper take-off direction, and 
with a whoosh of its two 210 horsepower  engines driving large propellers at 
full throttle, rose quickly towards the West  at a steep angle. 
Unfortunately, it was an overcast day and fog covered our home area at  the 
beach. Tom, therefore, headed us down towards Long Beach, parallel to the  
Harbor Freeway. As we leisurely cruised towards the Harbor, Tom told us that the  
Eagle was 192 feet long, 50 feet in diameter, and carried almost 3800 flashing 
 light bulbs. The noise level in the gondola was moderate – you could talk at 
a  comfortable level of volume. From our cruising altitude of about 700 feet, 
the  view was magnificent – over the extensive petroleum refineries, 
coke-making  beehive ovens, and the huge LA Harbor cargo storage and handling areas 
adjacent  to the water. We saw the many navigable fingers that compose the Long 
Beach and San Pedro Harbor areas; the huge cruise ships waiting for  
passengers; the graceful Vincent Thomas suspension bridge; and the harbor sea  walls, 
with big ships moored both inside the breakwater walls and on standby  outside. 
 
The heavy mist did not preclude getting a good look at the stately Queen  
Mary and the adjacent huge dome which then housed the famous “Spruce Goose” –  
Howard Hughes’ gigantic wooden flying boat. Our German friends wanted to know  
what everything was, and we and Tom did our best to tell them. Alas, soon we  
were headed back up the freeway.  
Coming in for the landing was also exciting. Rather than dumping precious  
Helium gas, Tom nosed the blimp down at a sharp angle and again pushed the  
throttles to the firewall. We swooped down and our dangling lines were grabbed  by 
the crew and dragged over and then attached to the mooring pole. What an  
adventure! Pat and I were knocked out that we had finally achieved the  
impossible dream! It was too much-too fast to take in the whole panorama – we  knew we 
wanted more, but sadly knew that was our last shot in this lifetime.  But, 
wait -- : 
Two weeks later, I received an unexpected call. A nice  lady called and said 
that she represented the Goodyear Aircraft Headquarters  operations. “I see 
that you and your wife have been on our waiting list for a  flight on the Blimp –
 isn’t that so?” Without missing a beat, I agreed and said  we would be “
most pleased to take a ride”. We settled on a date about 10 days  hence. I could 
hardly contain my excitement. 
This time  the weather conditions were perfect and the flight leisurely went 
over our  neighborhood. We saw our townhouse, and our sailboat in its slip in 
the marina,  plus a beautiful bonus: Our fellow passengers were an out-of-town 
couple. The  husband had been a blimp pilot in WWII and, of course, I piped 
up that I, too,  had had blimp time as a sub-spotter flying out of NAS 
Brunswick, Maine at a time when the U-boats were wreaking  havoc with shipping. Tom 
allowed both of us to pilot the Eagle, which for me, at  least, was a kick. Of 
course there was nothing to it – you just turned the wheel  in the direction 
you wanted to go and pulled or pushed on it if you wanted to  rise or lose 
altitude. Tom had adjusted the air intakes so that the altitude was  maintained. 
But, it was a new experience. My wartime blimp pilot and friend, Ted  K., had 
never let either of his crewmen take over the helm during the monotonous  days 
we spent sub hunting over the North  Atlantic. I suspect he dreaded the even 
more stultifying work as a  temporary substitute spotter. 
After the flight, we were the envy of all our friends, whom we bored to  
death recanting the adventures. In an expansive mood, I decided that I would try  
to share the wealth, since I now knew the nice Headquarters Blimp lady. I  
succeeded in getting a concession from her on behalf of the local Section of my  
technical society to allow the nomination of two passengers every year for a  
flight. I sold this to her on the true basis that our Society did concern 
itself  with Lighter-than-Air craft; also promising favorable publicity in the 
monthly  magazine, AEROSPACE AMERICA. For the next three  years, the Chairman of 
the Section and a guest enjoyed the wonderful jaunt.   
The next year, I was away teaching in Israel  and no one took advantage of 
the privilege. I didn’t realize that there had been  a lapse in activity for a 
few years. Two years ago, at the urging of the then  Chairman, I tried to renew 
the pact and found that my nice Blimp lady had  retired. To date, the 
ubiquitous new Blimp lady that I tracked down with much  difficulty has shamelessly 
evaded me, despite an initial assurance that she  would consider the request 
seriously. Every time I see the blimp fly serenely  overhead, I wonder if I 
should renew the quest and tilt at more  windmills? 
A year after this excitement, our German friends took us  to the wonderful 
Zeppelin  Museum in the town of Zeppelinheim, East of the Frankfurt airport. 
Here are models of all the zeppelins  ever made, as well as uniforms, furniture 
and other artifacts from the Von  Hindenburg and the Graf Zeppelin. It is a 
great and unique exhibit, but we, the  noted Blimpers, were somewhat  blase.