Boom Town
On Oct. 14, 1947, test pilot Chuck Yeager made this barren patch of desert one of the most hallowed spots in aviation history by breaking the sound barrier in a Bell X-1 research rocket aircraft.
Saturday, the 77-year-old retired brigadier general with the famous aw-shucks West Virginia manner returned, and he and fellow aerospace pioneer Maj. Gen. Joe Engle broke the sound barrier again--this time in a pair of F-15s--to kick off the base’s annual Open House and Air Show.
Air Force officials estimate Yeager helped attract 50,000 people to the free, one-day event, which featured many younger hot-shots flying some of the latest and fastest planes that $267 billion--this year’s military budget--can buy.
But it was Yeager who stole the show.
“I don’t think today we appreciate the significance of the first person to fly at the speed of sound,” said Garden Grove resident Burt Ashland, who had staked out a spot on the tarmac to watch the two veterans fly again. “Those guys were taking up planes that had never been flown before.”
Shortly after their inaugural sonic boom, the two pilots moved into a hangar for a one-hour “Oprah-style” chat about the glory days. When the spinning of tales began, however, the tough-guy factor quickly exceeded the Oprah envelope.
Speaking cheerily out of the side of his mouth in the g-droppin’ backwoods accent that “The Right Stuff” author Tom Wolfe nailed as the genesis of the standard aviator’s drawl, Yeager told stories about Edwards’ golden era of the 1940s and ‘50s, when he and a handful of other brave men pushed the era of flight straight into the era of space.
The test pilots of that time have been portrayed as hard-drinking cowboys daring death, and Yeager made no effort to dispel that view, recalling that just a few days before the first supersonic flight, he’d broken two ribs during a late-night drunken race on horseback. After the accident, he said, he was treated by a veterinarian in nearby Rosamond.
“He taped me up and said, ‘Don’t do nothin’ strenuous,’ ” Yeager recalled to the audience’s delight.
Before being chosen as the man to break the sound barrier, Yeager said he was given these simple directions by the legendary Col. Albert Boyd, chief of the Flight Test Division: “Get it above Mach 1, don’t bust your butt and don’t embarrass the Air Force.”
Aside from the history lesson, the theme of the event, “Yesterday’s Heroes, Tomorrow’s Legends,” promised that aviation buffs would have plenty of classic and up-to-the-minute aircraft to ogle.
Clive Barham, 50, of the English Midlands, was busy leading around a small pack of Brits who were scribbling the tail numbers of the classic aircraft on display. These, it turned out, were real-life plane spotters.
“We prefer the phrase ‘aircraft enthusiasts,’ actually,” said tour member Tony French, 60, laughing.
Laguna Beach resident Raoul Mills, 45, said the awesome display of cutting-edge technology at the air show, combined with the patriotic rush of seeing World War II aces like Yeager up close, had brought him out here for 10 years.
“This is the most hallowed ground we have in the world for airplanes,” said Mills as he waited for an autograph from an F-117A Stealth fighter pilot. “It’s a tribute to all the guys who gave their lives in World War II, so bozos like us could be free.”
With heroes hobnobbing on the ground and screaming across the sky above, the kids at the event were overcome with excitement--a phenomenon not lost on military recruiters, who gave out boxes of promotional posters and made their pitches for military life.
Recruiter and Navy Chief Petty Officer Carlos Gonzales, 35, said all the planes made for great public relations, though he conceded not everyone he signed up would end up in the danger zone.
“A lot of kids come in and say, ‘I want to be a pilot; I want to be a SEAL,’ ” he said. “When we see their [test scores], sometimes we’ve got to bring ‘em back down to reality a little bit.”
