COLUMN ONE : Stealth Jet: Tiny Town Flies High : Communities that are home to many of the nation’s exotic weapons have a special perspective on the war. In Tonopah, Nev., citizens track the F-117A with pride and confidence.

When a mysterious black jet slipped past Iraqi radar detectors and bombed Baghdad with the opening shot of the Persian Gulf War, chests puffed up with pride all over this gritty desert town.

Tiny Tonopah is the home of the famed F-117A Stealth fighter plane, that once top-secret weapon designed to sneak undetected through even the most sophisticated enemy defenses.

“You’re doggone right we feel pride,” barked Fred Shepard, 57, a retired Tonopah casino worker. “That’s our baby over there. It may have been born someplace else, but we raised it, right here in our back yard.”

Peek into the most desolate reaches of the American West, into communities on the edge of military proving grounds and test ranges, and you’ll find people with a special perspective on the Mideast war--people who have long enjoyed a ringside view of the exotic weaponry now proving its mettle in the Persian Gulf. With the ultimate test finally at hand, they are tracking the contest with passion and unwavering confidence.

In Ridgecrest, a Kern County city that hugs the giant China Lake Naval Weapons Center, locals scan the news for word of the Sidewinder missile, a deadly air-to-air weapon designed and developed at the hometown base.

Alamogordo, N. M., normally a sleepy place, is now abuzz with boastful talk of the now-famous Patriot missile, the all but invincible anti-Scud shield that has been tested at the neighboring White Sands Missile Range since 1986.

And in Barstow, residents who have watched the M-1 Abrams scoot across miles of Mojave Desert at Ft. Irwin debate how the squat, brown tank would fare in a ground war with Iraq.

Perhaps nowhere, however, is the bond between town and weapon as strong as it is in Tonopah. Located in a dusty valley halfway between Las Vegas and Reno, the community borders the Tonopah Test Range, a vast Air Force installation where the 59 Stealth planes of the 37th Tactical Fighter Wing are based. Close to one-third of the 4,000 townsfolk work at the so-called “TTR,” and with mining and tourism--Tonopah’s other main industries--so fickle, the U.S. military is cherished as the area’s only steady employer.

But the relationship goes way beyond economics. This is a place where kids of 8 or 9 can tilt an ear skyward and tell you whether that’s an F-16 or a Stealth screaming by. The elusive, angular jet is the town’s most important citizen, a local cause celebre that is featured at the annual Memorial Day parade and depicted on pins, coffee mugs, T-shirts and other paraphernalia for sale all along Main Street.

While a few residents here admit they have qualms about the war, community pride in the hometown plane, however, seems inextinguishable.

“The Stealth is in our hearts,” explained Kathy Hill, a 20-year resident of Tonopah who greets visitors at the Chamber of Commerce. “In a way, it’s like it’s our war. With the Stealth involved, it’s like we’ve got a piece of Tonopah over there.”

Tonopah--an Indian word meaning little brush, little water--owes its existence to silver and a prospector named Jim Butler. Butler, the story goes, struck it rich here after spotting flecks of silver in a rock he was about to hurl at his recalcitrant burro.

The year was 1900, and by 1902 Tonopah was a thriving mining camp with 3,000 people and 32 saloons. The remnants of that era remain plainly visible today. Abandoned miners’ shacks and wooden head frames dot the surrounding hillsides, and Tonopah High School athletes are still called “muckers”--a term for those who shovel ore into rail cars.

Aerial Warfare

In the 1930s, the military discovered Tonopah, recognizing the value of its isolation to aerial warfare training. During World War II, thousands of pilots trained in the skies above central Nevada, and many lost their lives in spectacular crashes old-timers still remember.

The test range--525 square miles of sweeping desert valleys and mountain ranges--swung into action in the 1950s. Under a shroud of secrecy that remains intact today, Sandia Corp. and other military contractors have used the remote site to test a variety of weapons far from prying eyes.

Eleven years ago, Tonopah residents recall, an even thicker cloak of darkness settled over the range, suggesting the arrival of a new, top-secret project. It was Lockheed Corp.’s legendary Stealth. But nobody was talking.

“We could see them building these gigantic hangars and that (12,000-foot) runway out there, but those who knew weren’t saying a word,” said Robert Perchetti, a lifelong Tonopah resident and director of the local convention center. “It was classified. People here took that very seriously. They’re very patriotic.”

Still, longtime residents--their senses refined through years of life under the military flight path--could pick out clues to the plane’s existence.

“You could see the plane’s lights at night, and you knew it was some sort of experimental aircraft because the sound it made was different,” recalled Charles Keller, principal at Silver Rim Elementary School. “It was quieter than a normal jet.”

When the Pentagon finally acknowledged the plane’s existence in 1988, local residents weren’t exactly shocked. The Tonopah Times-Bonanza headlined the story this way: “Surprise, Surprise--It Exists.”

Still, the unveiling provided most locals with their first real glimpse of the ghostly, futuristic-looking plane. It made quite an impression.

“I saw it close-up for the first time last year at Jim Butler days, and, let me tell you, it’s just captivating,” said Margie Prewett, 57, director of the Tonopah senior center. “It’s black and very silent. It’ll sneak up on you and scare the daylights out of you if you don’t watch out.”

Tonopah and the rest of the world first watched the Stealth go to war during the 1989 invasion of Panama.

It was not a happy occasion for fans of the aircraft, which cost $106 million apiece. The bat-shaped plane--designed to approach critical, heavily defended targets with the help of its radar-evading capabilities--drew criticism after Stealth-fired bombs badly missed their targets.

But now local residents point out with unmistakable satisfaction, the Stealth is performing magnificently on its missions in Iraq--despite bold predictions by Iraqi President Saddam Hussein that Iraqi technology would spot the plane.

In December, Hussein claimed over government radio: “Americans will find their Stealth plane is seen even by the shepherd in the desert.” That prediction, according to U.S. military reports, had little merit.

“The Stealth owned the skies,” Col. Alton Whitley, commander of the 37th Tactical Fighter Wing, told reporters in Saudi Arabia at a briefing recounting the jet’s maiden bombing attack on what was reported to be an AT&T; building near the Tigris River. The colonel called his unobstructed approach to his target “a leisurely drive through Baghdad.”

So far, buildings hit by the Stealth’s 2,000-pound, laser-guided bombs include underground bunkers, microwave communications links and a house owned by Hussein, American military commanders said.

“People in Tonopah know this is such a tough, high-tech aircraft that nobody can beat it,” said Lisa Amato, 24, a clerk at a gifts and shoe store whose parents work at the test range. “We know what it can do. Now it’s like watching a success story. The Stealth is king.”

Pro-War Attitude

No matter where one goes in Tonopah--the schools, the casinos, even the senior center--the message is pretty much the same. Bob Ryan is the silver-haired bartender at the Mizpah Hotel, the town’s central social spot. He summed it up this way.

“I would say the consensus here in Tonopah is that we ought to go over there and kick ass,” Ryan said, stroking his beard reflectively as the bar’s big-screen television--tuned to CNN--mixed with the din from the slot machines humming nearby.

This is, bar patron and Nye County District Attorney’s investigator Mike McLaughlin added, “a 100% redneck town,” a land of pickup trucks and cowboy boots, a place “where you will definitely never see a bunch of anti-war protesters running around in public.”

Sure, there’s a minority view to be found. But the few people interviewed who favored sanctions over an American attack on Iraq concede they’re vastly outnumbered. And they declined, quite vigorously, to give their names for publication.

Trish Rippie, one of Tonopah’s two realtors, confessed to having conflicting emotions about the war. But such misgivings did not dilute her sense of pride in the Stealth.

“When I saw that plane cruise Main Street, low and slow, and dip its wings, I was moved,” said Rippie, a war protester during Vietnam. “It’s just an impressive, incredible piece of technology . . . but I don’t know if this war is right or wrong.”

James Brunni, 44, a barrel-chested bar patron in a camouflage cap, seemed more typical of the prevailing viewpoint.

“War’s an ugly business,” said Brunni, a steely eyed Vietnam veteran laid off with 34 others from a mining job a few weeks back, “but you’ve got to face the realities. We’ve got a guy over there who wants to rule the world. The bottom line is, you’ve got to take him out.”

Pausing to pull a Camel from a fresh pack, Brunni, an Army reservist, continued: “It’s not fun, it’s not glory, it doesn’t always end like the Rambo movies, but it’s got to be done. As for me, I’m hoping for a set of orders.”

Gene Browder is gaming manager at the Mizpah, a job he took after the mine where he worked closed down in the mid-1980s. In his office above the hotel casino one recent morning, Browder--a big bear of a man--was on the telephone, calling Las Vegas. It seems Tonopah had sold out of American flags.

“I want one for our house,” Browder said. “It’s the least I can do.”

Browder, whose impressive collection of Stealth souvenirs includes a model of the fighter made from a Budweiser can, has a special connection to the aircraft. His wife, Gwen, is a test range secretary for the Stealth support crew--dubbed “Team Stealth” and now deployed in the Gulf.

“We get letters from them, and we’ve sent over 288 decks of Mizpah playing cards,” Browder said as he shuffled through a blue binder filled with letters, news clippings, cartoons and other Stealth memorabilia. Also shipped from Tonopah was a teddy bear, dressed in a camouflage suit.

“The crew chief says that bear is flying missions with (the Stealth pilots),” Browder said with a broad grin. “Can you believe it?”

Out in the northeast corner of town, the kids at Silver Rim School are acutely aware of the Gulf War. Many of their parents work at the test range, and some of them--mechanics and other support workers assigned to the Stealth--left Nevada abruptly after Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait on Aug. 2.

These children--veteran observers of the fighter planes that routinely thunder past their classroom windows--have seen the Stealth. They think it’s cool, and they believe it will help America beat Saddam Hussein.

“I think Saddam’s gonna drown in his own blood,” declared Angel Sanchez, 11, a sixth-grader with plans to become either a fighter pilot or a plastic surgeon.

Chad Pollock, 12, agreed, but with less gusto.

“We’ll win, but it will take awhile,” said Pollock, whose father is a transportation foreman at the test range. “Hussein is so senile. He’ll fight to the last kid.”

Silver Rim’s counselor, Jim Anderson, has seen “at least 50 or 60” students for anxiety related problems since the occupation of Kuwait. That’s almost one-fourth of the school’s enrollment.

Nonetheless, many locals argue that war-related tensions in Tonopah are fewer than in other places. People here, they explain, have seen the Stealth and other battle planes fly overhead, day in, day out, on training missions too numerous to count. They know with certitude that America was well prepared to face the enemy.

“There’s been a sense of calm here in Tonopah since the war began, something that you wouldn’t see in larger cities,” said Keller, Silver Rim’s principal. “I personally think it’s faith, faith in the reliability of our weapons systems.”

Mary Ann Landers, who lives and works in a classified job at the test range, agrees.

“We never had any doubt about the Stealth,” said Landers, who said she felt “elation” when she learned of the plane’s successes in the Gulf. “We knew it could do its job, and now everything we’ve hoped for and prayed for is coming true.”