Connecticut 1962; I met Tom, one of four who co-owned N31101 which was for sale. Tom drove me to Woonsocket, RI where, in a dimly lit garage, I viewed the Cub for the first time. Even with it's wings off, I knew I needed that aircraft in my life but, what to do? I had no money. So, on our way back home I came up with this:
"You fellas keep the plane, I'll give you $100 every Friday. When I am almost paid up, you take the Cub to the airport, put the wings on, test fly it and adjust the trim tabs if needed. I will skip payment for Christmas week and any other time I might miss two or more days of work in any given week."
Tom put that to the other owners, they agreed to it, I signed a contract and before long, I was the very happy owner of a J-3 Cub. Can you imaging what that was like for a nineteen year old youth? It was like living in a dream. All I had to do then was get the "dream" from Woonsocket to Danbury and at the time I was a student pilot with a grand total of fifteen hours, all in a Cessna 150. No way was I going to hop right into a taildragger and go.
A fellow R/C club member was experienced in Cubs and willing to help out. A buddy drove the two of us to Woonsocket where we found the Cub ready to go. In spite of the weather being a cold day in February there were numerous soft spots in the sod runway. Bill, my pilot, opted to fly my "dream" to North Central where I met him a few minutes later, added some air to a soft tire and climbed into the J-3 for the very first time.
Aloft and Danbury bound we encountered headwinds that ate our fuel at a higher rate per mile than what we hoped for and that little cork in the fuel tank kept taking the fuel gauge rod lower and lower, down through the gas cap. We were also losing daylight and a snowstorm was moving in from New York. Bill made a wise choice followed by a nice landing at Monroe Airport. We secured the Cub, called my buddy, who was already back home, and asked him to come pick us up. That night, the plane got snowed in but good and stayed there until the Saturday that followed.
On that day, we met at the plane and learned the runway was not to be plowed for the benefit of planes on skis. The manager gave his permission for us to break up the snow with our cars and after an unknown number of trips up and down the runway Bill said, "That's good enough." Bill got the Cub to the other end of the runway with occasional pushing from Richie and me. When he gave the thumbs up signal Richie and I began pushing hard, then faster and faster until the plane's struts left our hands. It went a long way down the runway before the snow lost it's grip on the wheels and 31101 was on it's way to Danbury. Richie and I met Bill there and he gave each of us a ride in the cub. Oh happy day!
That, my friends, is how a nineteen year old boy got his "Dream".
"You fellas keep the plane, I'll give you $100 every Friday. When I am almost paid up, you take the Cub to the airport, put the wings on, test fly it and adjust the trim tabs if needed. I will skip payment for Christmas week and any other time I might miss two or more days of work in any given week."
Tom put that to the other owners, they agreed to it, I signed a contract and before long, I was the very happy owner of a J-3 Cub. Can you imaging what that was like for a nineteen year old youth? It was like living in a dream. All I had to do then was get the "dream" from Woonsocket to Danbury and at the time I was a student pilot with a grand total of fifteen hours, all in a Cessna 150. No way was I going to hop right into a taildragger and go.
A fellow R/C club member was experienced in Cubs and willing to help out. A buddy drove the two of us to Woonsocket where we found the Cub ready to go. In spite of the weather being a cold day in February there were numerous soft spots in the sod runway. Bill, my pilot, opted to fly my "dream" to North Central where I met him a few minutes later, added some air to a soft tire and climbed into the J-3 for the very first time.
Aloft and Danbury bound we encountered headwinds that ate our fuel at a higher rate per mile than what we hoped for and that little cork in the fuel tank kept taking the fuel gauge rod lower and lower, down through the gas cap. We were also losing daylight and a snowstorm was moving in from New York. Bill made a wise choice followed by a nice landing at Monroe Airport. We secured the Cub, called my buddy, who was already back home, and asked him to come pick us up. That night, the plane got snowed in but good and stayed there until the Saturday that followed.
On that day, we met at the plane and learned the runway was not to be plowed for the benefit of planes on skis. The manager gave his permission for us to break up the snow with our cars and after an unknown number of trips up and down the runway Bill said, "That's good enough." Bill got the Cub to the other end of the runway with occasional pushing from Richie and me. When he gave the thumbs up signal Richie and I began pushing hard, then faster and faster until the plane's struts left our hands. It went a long way down the runway before the snow lost it's grip on the wheels and 31101 was on it's way to Danbury. Richie and I met Bill there and he gave each of us a ride in the cub. Oh happy day!
That, my friends, is how a nineteen year old boy got his "Dream".
