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Baron Capital Management


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Baron Benham
Chief Investment Advisor

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Baron and B24

Last Thursday, April 23rd, 2009 I was having a vitamin power drink on the patio of a muscle head cafe with my friend Denise Babý when I heard the sound of a group of radial engines. I fully expected to look up and see a B-17 but instead I saw a B-24. I thought I was dreaming as to my knowledge the few remaining B-24's were all in museums. It was not only a B-24 but a beautifully restored to military colors B-24 and it looked awesome. Later I discovered that the B-24 has the same number and kind of engines as the B-17 which is why I was thrown off. Those of you that really know me know I know my airplanes!

Anyway, it turns out that Denise Babý's dad (Tony Babý) used to be Chief of Exhibits for the Smithsonian Institution’s National Air and Space Museum and co-authored the concepts for the Museum of Flight in Seattle, WA. Denise visited her father in Las Vegas over that following weekend and told her dad of my excitement at seeing a B-24 fly over head because my dad was a B-24 navigator in the Pacific Theater during WWII. It turns out Tony knew the B-24 belonged to The Collings Foundation (which also owns a B-17 Flying Fortress and the worlds only dual control P-51 Mustang amoung other fine aircraft (see www.collingsfoundation.org which has a great web site) and he and Denise called me early Sunday morning to let me know. So thanks to Denise and Tony for waking me up early Sunday morning and for one of the most scary, thrilling, exhilarating, educational flying experiences of my life only exceeded in pure terror by the time I was pitched upside down in a biplane without warning and not even knowing I had a seat belt on! I hung onto the seat handles and prayed that the seat would not come loose and that I could hang on until the pilot turned us back over! I was about 15 at the time and weighed a lot less and was much stronger. Today I would be launched into space save for the seat belt!

So I called the Collings Foundation Sunday morning and booked a ride. The cost was $425 which was steep but at the same time given I could experience what my dad lived through (most didn't make it back!) and experience a once in a lifetime ride in a B-24 I went for it. Besides those monster 1200 horsepower radial engines gobble a lot of fuel and cost as much to maintain per hour as the cost of fuel. So even with the eight of us going up I imagine we barely covered the cost of the ride.

Strange how life can change so quickly. One moment I'm sleeping in on a Sunday morning and the next moment I'm booking a ride on a B-24 for later in the day!

So come 4pm I dutifully reported in at the Scottsdale Airpark where I found a beautifully restored B-17 and B-24 and the world's only dual control P-51. After checking in I took my camera and climbed all over the B-24 and B-17. While doing so I ran into Roger Rohrs and his friend Bill (don't recall Bill's last name) who were there to photograph and video tape the B-17 and B-24. It is Roger who took the photos of me with the B-24 and B-17 and Roger also video taped my landing which you can view near the bottom of this page.

Roger is an amateur turned pro aircraft videographer. He loves planes and is available to video aircraft and aircraft events and perhaps other things too. His web site is www.apinsights.info if anyone wishes to discuss his services. Upon landing I let both Roger and Bill know they just had to go up next time the B-24 was in our area.

So those of us going up got a quick two minute flight briefing of what not to do and we climbed in under the belly of the plane through the bomb bay doors! It turns out I was by far the youngest of my fellow passengers (in fact most people at the airport viewing the planes were north of 60 years old except for sons and daughters and grand kids) and all had been up in the B-17 one or more times.

The B-24 is configured exactly as it was during WWII. There is very little room to walk with most walking done on 10" cat walks of which you do not want to fall off. These cat walks run the length of the plane and you climb up and down at various points in the plane and even on your belly to move to the nose of the plane where the bombardier sits and the nose gunner sits. You actually snake your body around the nose gear. We were cautioned not to fall off the cat walks onto the bomb bay doors as the doors are not meant to hold anything. They are designed to give way in case a bomb falls off it's rack. So if we fell on the doors we would become a human bomb.

I was wearing my patriotic American Flag T-Shirt and jeans but even dressed as lightly as I was I found it difficult to move around the plane. I could not imagine being dressed up in a heavy coat and gloves with oxygen mask, deflated life preserver, and a parachute on and then moving around while freezing to death at altitude AND having enemy fighters attack you AND ground artillery firing up at you and flak all around!

Upon boarding I was seated on a 10" board with three of my fellow passengers. It was a tight fit and we had military style seat belts that were too lose even tightened up. We were all facing backwards with our backs to a bulkhead. My feet were dangling over an opening in the floor and just under my feet to my back was the open bomb bay and to the front was the undercarriage ball turret and two large openings in the sides of the fuselage for the two 50 caliber machine gun stations. As I sat there waiting to begin our taxing I figured out that the plane I was going up in was 65 years old! For some reason that bothered me! This particular airplane was built in 1944 and before I forget let me just say that the flyers in those days must have been both smaller than my 5' 11'' and very flexible. How they managed to wiggle into the ball turret or the nose, top fuselage, or rear gun turrets is amazing. I did managed to just squeeze myself into the rear gun turret but I was very unsure if I would ever be able to get back out! My dad was 6' 4" and very big boned. I can see why he was made a navigator. It is the only position other than the radio operator where someone of any size could fit and even that area was cramped.

So we taxied out and took off with the bomb bay doors wide open and the wind blowing from every direction as the sides of the fuselage have huge openings for the two waist gunners which were very close to my seating position. So the noise was great and down between my legs (remember I'm sitting on a little board) is the ground pulling away (there is a large hole in the floor right where I would put my feet to get down and the bomb bay forward of the hole in the floor and towards the nose of the aircraft) sharply as we lift off in a steep climb or what seemed like a steep climb as I could not see out and all I could do was judge our lift off by the ground pulling away beneath my feet and the gravitational force trying to knock me off my little perch and out the bottom of the aircraft! I am very afraid of heights so I was pretty much frozen to my seat and hanging on tightly to my seat/board so as not to find myself falling out the aircraft and through space. During the forty seconds or so of takeoff I thought to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?". I also wondered how my dad did this everyday for years when he was more afraid of heights than I am! I felt like a real wimp and that I was going to stay frozen to this little seat and miss moving around the airplane and really sensing what the whole experience was like".

About 40 seconds after take off the crew rang the bell meaning we were free to move about the cabin. Move about the cabin! Holly S--t I didn't see anyway of doing that. The thought even crossed my mind that these no frills flights were getting ridiculous. So at least I still had my sense of humor. Well the bomb bay doors had closed and the terror of looking down and seeing next to nothing but the ground way down below eased up. Now I only had to contend with the hole in the floor in front of me. So I unbuckled and leaned forward and grasped hold of the ball turret superstructure and swung myself around the hole and took the cat walk around the ball turret hanging onto anything that seemed strong and around to the machine guns and huge open windows in the sides of the fuselage. That was a trip! These huge openings in the fuselage were more than large enough to be launched through should we hit a sizeable air pocket! There I took hold of a machine gun and pretended my ex-girlfriends were out there in Japanese Zeros and blasted them! It was a rich target environment! hee, hee, hee.

Next up I felt really brave now and decided to take the cat walk through the bomb bay and up to the nose of the plane. The first section was about six feet long and the most dangerous but it went well and from that moment on I was cautious but comfortable with moving around the plane. I made my way to the radio operators tiny chair and ancient radio and across the walk way at elbows length the navigators position that had a small fold down table for marking maps, etc. This is where my dad would have sat. The chair and table were so small that for my dad to sit there would be like an elephant riding a flea! Above these two positions was the flight deck with pilot and co-pilot and directly above was the top turret gun. I examined this top turret gun for a while and never could figure out how anyone could get up into seating position. I guess they had a real midget contortionist!

All the while I have to mention I was hanging on to my camera and my sun glasses. For some reason I thought I was taking a tour like Mr. Howell of the Gilligan's Island Castaways. I really didn't need my sunglasses because there were very few areas to look out of the plane unless you were sitting in a ball turret or were one of the two side waist gunners with the big picture window openings or were the pilots. I took my sunglasses off because with them on it was too dark in the plane to move around safely. I'm glad I remembered my camera but holding on to it was a challenge. So my hands were full while moving around making things a bit tougher.

I then dropped down underneath the radio operator and navigator positions and well below the pilot and co-pilot and crawled on my belly forward around the nose gear to the bombardier position and front nose gun turret position. I managed to just squeeze into the bombardiers position but there was no way I was flexible enough to lean down and peer through the bomb sight. I guess I need to take up yoga! It's kind of eerie crawling around the nose gear and nose gear doors. We were warned to stay off the nose gear doors as they would not hold our weight. They were painted red to remind us.

Next up I made may way back through the aircraft to the rear gun turret position where as I said earlier I just managed to squeeze into the seat and again shoot at my ex-girl friends. We were now flying along the Superstition Mountains following the Salt River which is the river in my photos.

Then I heard everyone yelling at me to return to my seat (calling it a seat is a stretch) as the two bells telling us we were about to land rang. I never heard the bells from my position so I'm glad the others passengers called out to me. Then I had to face getting myself back out of the turret. I was so wedged in there I could easily have been unable to get out but fortunately I just barely managed to do so.

I then took the cat walks back to my seat and buckled in. This time I was sitting next to the fuselage so the hole below was off to my side. As we were coming in I felt something moving and rubbing against my leg. That's when I realized my leg was resting against the control cables for the rear elevators! Everything in the B-24 is exposed. We were never in any real danger but it does point out that I was in a military bomber and not aboard a cozy airliner.

I do want to point out one of my thoughts while relaxing for a short moment waiting on my turn to check out the bombardier and nose gun positions. I got a whole new perspective on what our bomber crews endured (those that lived through it and the vast majority did not live through it!) and it got me very angry! Angry that American's today take everything for granted and have moved this country into socialism. Our forefather's gave so much for all of us so that we wouldn't become socialistic or communistic or fascist. They sacrificed so much yet we seldom get off our butt to call or write our elected officials or go visit them. I've gotten very proactive the past year or so and after this flight experience I'm very glad I did and ashamed I have not done more and I will do more. Obama and the liberals are destroying this country. Their values or lack there of are not the values of our forefathers who sacraficed everything so that we would be free from tyranny. Today our government is overbarring and threating all of us. I urge all of you to get off your butt and make noise. Get your voice heard. Go down to your Senator's office and pound on his desk. I did that with Senator Kyle last year after he flip flopped on the amnesty bill. He's out now. He will not get my vote. McCain is out too. How John McCain lives with himself I do not know. He is a snake in the grass and I've known this ever since meeting him 25 years ago. Washington is full of scum on both sides of the aisle and it's up to us to call them out. If we don't we will lose this country and tyranny both home and abroad will become the norm around the world. It's the old saying, "pay me now or pay me later". Later will be more expensive most likely costing lives to correct what's going down. Spending time now demanding a return to the principles that founded this country is cheap compared to fixing things later. I urge everyone to get involved! Otherwise the wars our fathers fought will have been for nothing.

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See pictures


Thanks everybody.

Baron