Spray Pilots continued...
The pilot and his bar buddies broke out in an explosive burst of laughter. When they stopped, the pilot stated in a slow, confident drawl, "No, I'm not David Kirk!" More laughter as his buddies were doubled over, howling.
"Why is that so funny?" I asked.
As he put the gas cap on the wing tank he confidently answered pointing the gas nozzle eastward, "David Kirk's my competition! His strip is about five miles that way. My name’s Jim Deterding and my strip is the one marked Pond Creek on your map. Why are you looking for David Kirk?—Who are you?—And why are you wearing those weird pants and boots?"
Gerald and I joined in the laughter and I explained David Kirk's invitation for me to fly with him and my pursuit of rides in antique aeroplanes, and so on...
"You don't want to fly with David Kirk—you want to fly with me!" he proclaimed.
"Oh? And why should I fly with you?" I inquired.
The peanut gallery leaned over their yellow bar, obviously enjoying the entertainment. The pilot gave me several worthless reasons why I should fly with him instead of his competitor in the crop dusting business and said that when he finished spraying at sunset, he would take me into Enid (the nearest “big” town) for dinner and dancing—but only if I'd wear different pants. Then he sweetened the pot with an offer of the guestroom in his sister's house, unbeknownst to her, assuring me that she would welcome my company. And if she wouldn't, I could sleep on the couch in his living room or camp on his airfield—whichever I preferred.
I must confess I was flattered by Jim’s progressive bidding for my company, against his competitor spray pilot who wasn’t even present. And after Gerald gassed up his plane, he told him that he owed him nothing—the gas was "on the house."
With that show of generosity for Gerald, I decided to stay.
As Gerald passed overhead back toward Wichita, and I waved goodbye, the spray pilot instructed his buddies, "Load her bags into the back of my truck and drive her to my sister's house. And if her house is locked, let her into my house. And turn on the AC for her."
"Is your sister home?" I asked.
"No, she'll be home around 6:30," he answered, as if it was no consequence.
"Well, I don't want to go into her house if she's not there!" I said.
"Why not? She won't care."
"I'm not going into her house!" I replied.
"Okay, well then, go to my place."
As one of his buddies drove me away, Jim yelled, "Relax and make yourself at home! Watch TV! Use the phone! Read my magazines! And don't leave town! I'll be through flying in about at hour."
His friend dropped me off at Jim's house and left. The front door was wide open. I paused for a minute, thinking how strange it was that someone would leave his house wide open. Well, maybe it's not so strange in this town. This town looks like Opie 'n Andy's Mayberry.
I was also feeling funny about going into his house when he wasn't home and I'd just met him ten minutes earlier, but he seemed so insistent and nonchalant about it back there at his airfield, so I put my apprehension aside and went in. I dropped my bags on the floor, turned on the AC, and eyeballed the cropduster magazines and the phone on his rolltop desk. Though I felt like a trespasser in a stranger’s house, his words repeated in my head and reassured me I wasn’t doing anything wrong. "Use the phone! Read my magazines!"
His only aviation magazines were trade magazines for spray pilots. I sat at his desk and leafed through them. The articles were about bugs and chemicals, and the ads showed pictures of heavy farm machinery and spray planes, no Cessna Citations, no latest Burt Rutan designs, no Piper Cubs, no old fighter planes.
The telephone beckoned me, so I made two calls. First, my daily "Mom call," second, a local Pond Creek call to Jim's competitor. Three rings and a man answered. I cleared my throat, "Uh, hello, is this David Kirk?"
"Yes it is, who's this?"
"Hi David, this is Martha Esch. Guess where I am?!," I said, thinking that a guessing game might lighten his reaction or give me a minute to think of how I was going to tell him where I was.
"I don't know—Utah? Where are you?"
"Uh, would you believe at Jim Deterding's?" my voice cracked.
"Deterding's!? What in the world…" (or something like that) "...are you doing at Deterding's!?"
"Uh, well I sorta mistook his airfield for yours. You know, it says 'Pond Creek' on the chart for his field and I remembered that you were in Pond Creek, so I just figured that this was the right place—so this is where we landed," I said apologetically.
[to read the rest of this interesting chapter, you'll have to buy my printed version. ~m]
~
Mom's Log
Day 13
Thursday, June 9
Oklahoma
Martha swam in Pond Creek municipal pool before it closed yesterday at dusk. Afterwards Jim Deterling took Martha to dinner at 10:00 PM. At Holiday Inn and then disco dancing until 2:00 AM – not much sleep. Slept on living room sofa at home of Peggy (Jim Deterding’s sister). She lives in the house next door. At 6:30 AM David Kirk buzzed overhead the house in his cropduster ag plane. He took Martha up and the ride was thrilling! 10’ over ground and river and David’s horses, cows and planes.
Mike Wise came in the late morning from Wichita to Pond Creek in his 1955 Cessna (a charter pilot in a tail dragger) and they flew to Oklahoma City. Martha is staying at the FBO lounge tonight at Oklahoma City Airport. She called the president of 99’s today to see if she could see the Amelia Earhart display at the 99’s Museum. She had not heard of Martha and seemed cool to the idea, (museum closed today) but arranged a special appointment to allow Martha to tour the museum, as she won’t be there on Saturday when it is open.
[insert here expanded chapter on "The Scariest Thing that Happened to Me During the Whole Journey" not yet written. have only told a few people about it and been avoiding writing it til now, but it needs to be included.]
Day 14
Friday, June 10
Oklahoma
Piper Twin Commanche or Bonanza Shirley and Charlie Brown in Bonanza took Martha to their lovely home in Oak Tree Golf Course, Edmond, OK. (PGA) will play there this summer. Martha stayed the night. Shirley is the chairperson of the 99’s in Texas. They took M for a tour of the 99’s Museum Headquarters. They pulled out Amelia Earhart’s pilot license, bracelet, and a locket of her hair and offered Martha a chance to hold them. Whoa!
The first Cleveland air show in 1929 was the beginning of the 99’s. Amelia and five other women pilots beneath bleachers and discussed starting an organization of women pilots. They sent out letters across the country and a total of 99 women joined up at the 1st meeting. Tomorrow at 8:30 AM, 4 or 5 women of the 99’s Oklahoma chapter are going to meet at the airport ramp and wave Martha off to the Denton, TX air show. Retired Col. Bill Porter will fly Martha in his 1948 Cessna 195. Martha officially joined the 99’s today.
