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Airplane story and y’all entertain me :)

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Good stories while I recover from flying yesterday: Durango, CO back to Houston. I won't write about delays (some epic in AK), or oil company international trips to Columbia during the civil war (security!), or flying DC-3s while a kid (pilot's lap). What I remember was a Tunisian family. Our family was flying Tunis Air from Tunis, Tunisia to Paris for a vacation. Tunis Air is not Lufthansa, or Swiss Air, or even Air France. So, the Tunisian family, well they boarded, with carry on of about a dozen chickens and roosters. Carried in burlap bags and stowed everywhere. No assigned seating so the family placed a bag of chickens where we were about to sit. Big ruckus. Clucking. Tunisians, when confronted by white, Christian westerners default to Arabic for intimidation mode. Punchline: my pissed off wife picked up a bag of chickens and threw it at a Tunis Air flight attendant, sat down with our daughters and basically told all them to go to ****. I just sat. Attendant must have figured we had enough. Flight took off, entire two hours chickens crowing and clucking, chicken crap everywhere. Was glad to get off that flight. Never flew Tunis Air again.
 
Similar to OP. Was on a flight headed home to Cleveland at the time. We were sitting pretty close to the front and got to see a concerned conversation between the flight attendants shortly before takeoff. They head back about 2/3 through the plane and talk to one of the passengers. One comes back to the front and one of the folks from the pilots cabin comes out and back to talk to the guy. They come back to the front and the pilot guy says that he thinks the guy will be fine.

About halfway through the flight the attendants are back up front pulling policy manuals out and getting on the phone. Seemed interesting.

We land in Cleveland and as we pull up to the gate I can see two CPD officers standing on the jetway. As we roll to a stop the traditional clicking sound of seat belts being unfastened travels through the plane followed quickly by the flight attendant on the speaker telling us "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated WITH YOUR SEATBELTS ON until I tell you that you can take them off. Everyone sits down and the clicking of seat belts fastening passes through the plane. Finally the jetway is driven over to the plane and the door opened. The police officers come on the plane and tell the guy to get his (word for crap) and let's go. Once they got him off the plane we were allowed to finally get off. Good times.
 
misterk said:
I was thinking that would make a great movie, but then realized it would be too boring to watch [emoji23]


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
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...and it was. I never saw what people loved so much about that movie. I thought it was a real snooze-fest.
 
Annhl8rX said:
...and it was. I never saw what people loved so much about that movie. I thought it was a real snooze-fest.
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Our culture was ripe for apocalypto (non movie reference) type scenarios. That's why it was a hit. Then we finally realized it with the great recession and it went down hill from there with more skulls, tattoos, and the walking dead.
P.S. I like classic heavy metal too but didn't go that far down the rabbit hole.
YOU KIDS STAY OFF MY LAWN
 
As a kid my first "big" flight was Travis AFB in CA to Hickam Field in HI, to Wake Island, and then to Guam. 36 hours, start to finish. At least we got to fly. The families that transferred to Guam 5 years previously had to go by ship.

When we would take R&R flights to Japan we would fly on former KC-97 freighters. They would remove all the refueling equipment, but they would leave the "ironing board" and back windows in place that the air-to-air refueler used in his job. I'd just lay down on the board and watch the ocean slowly slide by thousands of feet below.

As the son of a flight crew member I got to go up into the cockpit many times, sit in the co-pilot's seat and "fly" the airplane. Pretty heady stuff for an 8 year old.

I love to fly. Hmm is correct, flying a GA plane is the closest you're going to come to riding a motorcycle and I'd still be doing it if it wasn't so doggone expensive.
 
I was Army, as was my dad, so we didn't have easy access to those big Air Force birds. But on my limited overseas flights, I figured out that being one of half a dozen passengers on a C-141 was a hekkuva lot more comfortable than being jammed onto a 707 MAC charter flight with 199 other sweaty GIs. Plus, box lunches supplied by the AF tasted a lot better than whatever that stuff was that (no kidding!) Flying Tiger Airlines served. And of course, there was the ubiquitous 30-cup coffee urn bolted to a bulkhead; help yourself. Yeah, I loved traveling as a guest of the Air Force the few times I was able.
 
StromXTc said:
Our culture was ripe for apocalypto (non movie reference) type scenarios. That's why it was a hit. Then we finally realized it with the great recession and it went down hill from there with more skulls, tattoos, and the walking dead.
P.S. I like classic heavy metal too but didn't go that far down the rabbit hole.
YOU KIDS STAY OFF MY LAWN
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I have no idea what is going on here.
 
My most ridiculous flight story involves coming home from Vegas a few years ago. My wife and I were one of three couples that traveled there together. We were all flying home the same day, but on three separate flights leaving within a couple of minutes of each other. Of course a snow\ice storm hit DFW the day before.

As our group started trickling into the airport flights started getting cancelled. First my brother in law’s was cancelled. He quickly got rebooked for one about an hour later. Next my mother in law’s was cancelled. While she was in line to get rebooked my brother in law’s new flight was cancelled. Shortly after that they announced that ALL flights to DFW were cancelled.

This was all happening on a Saturday morning, and when we went to rebook they said the earliest they could get us out would be Monday afternoon. That wasn’t going to work so we all decided to rent a van and drive back. Of course, we had already checked our bags. They sent us to baggage claim and said they’d be out shortly.

The brother in law’s bags came out first. Next came my mother in law’s bags. An hour later my wife and I still didn’t have our bags. We tracked down a lady in the baggage claim area and she started to look into it. After about 8500 keystrokes she said, “You’re bags aren’t here because your flight is still scheduled to leave. Actually, it’s boarding right now.”

We took off running back to the ticket desk but didn’t make it in time to get on the plane. Surprisingly American actually treated us pretty good when we told them what had happened. They refunded us half of what we paid for our round trip tickets and gave us each a voucher for another flight.
 
Annhl8rX said:
I have no idea what is going on here.
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I assumed you were refering to the movie cast away. Plot was a type of last man on earth movie which was the mood prevailing post 911. No, I'm no inferring anything about you.
 
StromXTc said:
I assumed you were refering to the movie cast away. Plot was a type of last man on earth movie which was the mood prevailing post 911. No, I'm no inferring anything about you.
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I was definitely referencing Castaway. The heavy metal stuff was what really confused me.
 
I grew up traveling, 22 different schools from 1st grade to 12th. Which is why I have a ton of airplane stories. My parents knew I didn't travel well in the car. So, when we moved from Maryland to Washington State they sent me ahead to Denver via a flight out of Baltimore. The plan was to stay with my aunt in Denver where my family would pick me up. Then we would go on to Washington State from there. I was about 13. My mom and 3 siblings took me to the airport and watched me board the plane. This was before concourse access was limited. Once I was on the plane, they left to return home a couple hours away. The plane finished boarding, they closed the doors, we taxied to take off, then the captain came on the intercom and said there was a malfunction, we had to return to the the terminal.

At the terminal, they told us, a part was being flown in from Chicago, we could wait on the plane or disembark. Many left but because I was a minor and my mother was no longer in the terminal, I had to stay onboard. 3 hours later they announced that we would be changing planes. I picked up my stuff and followed the flight attendant to the next plane. We boarded, the flight took off and made it to Denver without a problem.

In Denver, I was met by my aunt, uncle and their entire family of kids. My uncle asked me if I was ok. I said, "sure, why not?" He asked, "didn't they tell you?" I asked "tell me what?" "There was a bomb on your plane!" "No, no, they didn't tell me that!" This was long before terrorism. What they had told my uncle was; a disgruntled mechanic, who had been fired, had conked another mechanic on the head and placed a bomb in the wheel well, designed to explode when the wheel was lifted. My seat was right above the wheel wells. The second mechanic regained consciousness right before we took off and sounded the alarm, or I wouldn't be telling this story now.

I have a ton of these flight stories about; doors flying off, engines dying, oil squirting out, Lightning strike, nose wheel stuck down, cabin instruments falling out of the overhead panel, hail storms breaking out on the runway, landing on a day when 107 mph gust had been recorded, nearly hitting a seismic helicopter, etc.
 
jfink said:
I grew up traveling, 22 different schools from 1st grade to 12th. Which is why I have a ton of airplane stories. My parents knew I didn't travel well in the car. So, when we moved from Maryland to Washington State they sent me ahead to Denver via a flight out of Baltimore. The plan was to stay with my aunt in Denver where my family would pick me up. Then we would go on to Washington State from there. I was about 13. My mom and 3 siblings took me to the airport and watched me board the plane. This was before concourse access was limited. Once I was on the plane, they left to return home a couple hours away. The plane finished boarding, they closed the doors, we taxied to take off, then the captain came on the intercom and said there was a malfunction, we had to return to the the terminal.

At the terminal, they told us, a part was being flown in from Chicago, we could wait on the plane or disembark. Many left but because I was a minor and my mother was no longer in the terminal, I had to stay onboard. 3 hours later they announced that we would be changing planes. I picked up my stuff and followed the flight attendant to the next plane. We boarded, the flight took off and made it to Denver without a problem.

In Denver, I was met by my aunt, uncle and their entire family of kids. My uncle asked me if I was ok. I said, "sure, why not?" He asked, "didn't they tell you?" I asked "tell me what?" "There was a bomb on your plane!" "No, no, they didn't tell me that!" This was long before terrorism. What they had told my uncle was; a disgruntled mechanic, who had been fired, had conked another mechanic on the head and placed a bomb in the wheel well, designed to explode when the wheel was lifted. My seat was right above the wheel wells. The second mechanic regained consciousness right before we took off and sounded the alarm, or I wouldn't be telling this story now.

I have a ton of these flight stories about; doors flying off, engines dying, oil squirting out, Lightning strike, nose wheel stuck down, cabin instruments falling out of the overhead panel, hail storms breaking out on the runway, landing on a day when 107 mph gust had been recorded, nearly hitting a seismic helicopter, etc.
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Like the time they couldn't get the engines to start on one of those puddle jumpers. That ended in an overnight in a smelly hotel room provided by the airline. (Jokingly) Like the sound of an 1970's Chrysler starter with dying batteries.😁
 
While waiting for a flight to IAH from CLE, I heard the following page TWICE..."Craven Moorehead, Mr. Craven Moorehead. Please dial 3000 on the white courtesy phone for an important message". Lots of chuckles in the terminal.
 
This throws me back into the way back machine. In the early eighties I was taking lessons with my friend at the Huntsville airport. We both soloed after about 8 hrs of flight time. That should be scary enough but my friend bought an ultra light plane. He was a pretty cheap guy and bought a "black market" Quicksilver designed aircraft. Needless to say, it needed a lot of replacement parts to make it close to air worthy. So, even after making the air frame sound, the engine and reduction gearing DID NOT work with any propeller width x pitch that was available. It would fly, but wasn't ideal.
So we head over to a pasture across from his house. I am riding my 1980 Husky CR125, Herb is riding Rick's (aircraft owner's) Yamaha IT 175. After Rick the owner went for a flight, he landed and I took my turn. Well, #1 rule, check the aircraft. I didn't do that. Always check the fuel level!
I placed my butt into the swingset seat and took off. The plane went right up to several hundred feet and I was very relaxed and thought about venturing out away from our landing area. About that time, the engine quit. I considered pulling the starter rope above my head but knew I couldn't do it on the ground so trying that in the air was fruitless. I flashed back to the WW1 flying book that we had read "Stick & Rudder"...You can glide further at speed...dive to keep up air speed, cover more ground. So below me is a large pasture with a new fence along my path and a cross fence ahead of me. I put the plane into a slight dive to keep air speed and aim for the pasture on my left. My descent was closing in on the left side fence, at the last second, I stalled the plane, bounced over a fence and put out the Flinstones and stopped into the next fence. Unharmed, I got out of the plane and wondered "Where the **** are my friends to save me?" So I walk back over the rise and there my friends are. Herb, the non-biker is still trying to kick over the IT 175, thinking I am dead over the hill and Rick the plane owner is injured and on the ground. Rick had jumped onto my Husky 125 and at about third gear hit the new fence as he was looking up, as the Husky was a tall bike it pushed the fence over to the point of wrapping the wire around the back wheel and came within inches of ending his potential of fatherhood. A day I will never forget and I still have the Husky. by far my favorite bike of all time. I have thousands of mile on it. rh
 
Radio controlled airplanes ...

A few friends and I installed an OS 60 in a Great Planes Sweet 16 glider.
In case you don't know, a Sweet 16 is a robust, wooden framed craft with a 16' wingspan. Quite impressive.
Then, being young entrepreneurs, we cut a hole in the fuselage, installed an instamatic camera with a servo to release the shutter.
We were going to get rich taking aerial photos of rancher's land.

The plane flew well during a couple test flights.

Not sure where the idea originated, but it was great fun buzzing the calves grazing in the adjoining pasture.
Not sure how the original idea devolved, but we tied an oil can on a long lead, thinking we would "bomb" the calves with it.
When yer 16, this kind of thing is pretty daggum cool.

Plane was not quite as controllable, nor responsive, but Terry got it airborne.
Climbed out a bit and while doing so, drifted across the highway which had power lines along the side.
As he attempted to return, lost altitude ... the plane cleared the lines ... the tethered cargo did not.

As the cord came into contact with one of the lines, it quickly looped around it.
The plane then made this large arc and nosed in. Plane wasn't too badly damaged ... easily repairable.

However, the plane's momentum pulled on the tethered power line, the cord laid across a second line and getting the two lines close enough to arc across.
At that point we heard transformers popping up and down the road.
For about 10 seconds, the light show and sound effects were pretty daggum cool.

We quickly gathered evidence of a plane crash, but we couldn't retrieve the dangling can from the power line.

Not sure whose idea it was, but at some point someone decided to call the Sheriff's office and tell them a plane had crashed into power lines.
Unfortunately, all this happened in the small pasture in front of Terry's house.
It was a short investigation by the Sheriff's office and a tense couple days.

True story.
 
Traveling back from Iraq one time I transferred in Dubai. Alarge MIddle Eastern woman in front of me had several large bags, enough to carry her whole house in.
She realized they were going to charge her for the extra baggage and she realized you could take on two checked bags for free or something like that.
She turned around and saw I was only with a back pack. She kindly asked if I could check two of her bags as mine (it would have been for free then). I politely said I could not. No telling what was in those bags and I would be the one going to jail. Thinking real fast (I am usually not this fast) I said I wish I could but my company does not allow me to do this. Whew.
 
Flying from Houston to Amsterdam one time late in the evening over Greenland at midnight the stewardess came on the intercom and asked if you were a doctor please raise your hand. I am not a doctor. But a few seconds later (I wish they had cell phones with cameras back then) I see a male flight attendant dragging a passed out lady down the aisle by her shoulders with her on the floor legs trailing behind her. Long story short we turned around and landed somewhere like maybe New Jersey. An ambulance met us at the gate and they took her off. Unbeknownst to me airplanes have IV bags and small oxygen bottles hidden all over the plane. They had used them up and took an hour to restock the plane. Delay got us into Amsterdam too late to catch a flight to Iraq so the good part was I got to stay in Amsterdam overnight and see the sights. I never found out what happened to the lady.
 
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Flying out of College Station always meant hopping on a puddle jumper - Subaru or Bombardier prop job. Clearly the minor leagues of commercial aviation. It wouldn't have surprised me if the pilots had showed up wearing jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt. And then... some genius decides to make the airport a TSA training facility. With enough pre-flight alcohol this could usually be tolerated and even amusing. "Sir, would you mind disassembling your laptop computer?" (This kid's serious and I can see my plane outside the windows cranking it's engines at the time.) Then there was the time we took off and the pilot says our planes oxygen system wasn't working so we'd be flying kind of low and we shouldn't be alarmed unless someone saw a squirrel go through one of the engines. Then there was the flight from OHare over to Penn State late one night just after this huge thunderstorm had materialized out of nowhere pretty much between the two. It was like being inside a laundry machine with a strobe light the entire way. I was too doggone scared to barf but most others on the little plane had no problem with it. Then there was the time we're coming in on approach to Atlanta and our plane suddenly does this roof bouncing nose dive just as an airliner with its wheels down passed a few feet right over us. One of coolest sites was coming back from the east coast one clear day on an airliner when we must have been near a highly traveled air corridor intersection somewhere over the Appalachians. There was a solid white and level cloud layer way below us. I could look out and see contrails and aircraft going in every direction against a cobalt blue sky. Down below there were jets crisscrossing along the top of that cloud layer and each one was leaving a wake in the cloud's surface just like a bunch of boats going across a smooth lake. I'm not a big fan of air travel but it sure beats walking.
 
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About a month after I got my private pilot's license, I was flying back to Fort Worth from a visit to Burnett. I had two of my three kids with me. We went to the air museum there, and were going to go to Longhorn Caverns, but our ride fell through. I was flying a 1953 Piper Tri-Pacer, a tube and fabric plane that I owned with four other guys. About 10 miles the other side of Granbury, I felt a tremendous buffeting and wind coming into the cabin. Not a good thing. At first I thought one of the kids had opened the rear door, but that wasn't it. Then I looked up at the trim crank, and I could see light through the fixture. We had experienced a fabric separation at the top of the windscreen. I immediately looked for and found a field to land in. Lined up on one and it looked rough and had a bunch of cows. I still had engine, so I took it up over the trees at the fenceline and put it down in a cow pasture with no cows. Fortunately, these old planes were made to land in pastures. Fabric was torn for about three or four feet across the front of the wing. Thankfully it didn't billow up enough to blank out the airflow over the tail. In that case we would have died.

We walked out to a road and hitchhiked into the Granbury airport. I got to call my wife to come get us in the car, and left the kids in the airport lounge while a mechanic and I went back out to the plane with a ladder and a roll of aircraft tape (think strong duck tape). We had to run strips of tape from the windscreen all the way back past the cabin, because it wouldn't stick to the fabric where the paint had come off. We lined it up into the wind and I took it off for Granbury, making a terrible landing there while watching the tape peeling back from the windscreen.

I asked the guy if he worked on fabric planes, and he said he did, but there were three in front of me. I told him, "It's not going anywhere." He got finished with it just after 9-11, when the Class B airspace around DFW was closed. Of course, he wanted it out of his hangar. I had just made a deal to take it to Bridgeport and rent a T-hangar there when they re-opened the Class B, and I brought it home to Northwest Regional.
 
RedPill said:
He got finished with it just after 9-11, when the Class B airspace around DFW was closed.
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At the end of the day on 9/11, I'm standing in my front yard talking with neighbors when this small plane comes by headed towards Pean Plantation.
Out of freaking nowhere, two F16s are on top of him. It was a heckuva site ...


There was a gent who had been working on his plane all day at a hangar at private Granbury airport.
He had no idea of what had happened.
 
mitchntx said:
At the end of the day on 9/11, I'm standing in my front yard talking with neighbors when this small plane comes by headed towards Pean Plantation.
Out of freaking nowhere, two F16s are on top of him. It was a heckuva site ...


There was a gent who had been working on his plane all day at a hangar at private Granbury airport.
He had no idea of what had happened.
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in the wake of 911 it was probably reported by anyone.

we get that continuously being a vfd on the interstate. last one was a calieche truck working on the frontage road that was on"fire" per caller. it was just the airbrakes /and or the belly dump making a considerable dust up. (even with a whole work crew there, the good Samaritan with the cell phone still called it in). Im sure Monica knows this well. Regardless, you have to make the call real or imagined.

war jets are quite the site for sure. I was at lackland afb san antonio today and they were graduating another class of recruits. Heard a big roar from the stadium when at the visitor center (families were all over on the base, just like a graduation celebration). Thank you USAF :patriot::patriot::patriot:
 
Me and a few friends went to big shell shortly after 9/11 and may or my not have had a few beers. A huge bonfire with driftwood and washed up trash. Those fighter planes fully armored buzzed us more than once. We waved and gave “woo hoo’sl.
 
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