I’m sorry, but I have some bad news for you. Usually I like to send you a chuckle here and ther. Old Bob Lee passed away. Actually, he passed over. He was flying his Cessna 182, the one he used to buzz us with on Sunday mornings and had just made a wolf-count trip up into the flowage for the Wildlife Service and re-fueled in Watersmeet. He headed home and must have had a heart attack on the way. Well, we saw hime fly over and we were all surprised when he didn’t waggle his wings. He never missed doing that, just to be friendly. He overflew the strip in Stambaugh and went on till the 182 got unstable, and it set itself down in a big clump of aspen. They found Bob the next day, still strapped in, and not a mark on him. This is how he would have wanted to go. With 35,000 hours in his logbook, combat serviee in a P-40 and the the new P-51’s. he was one of the best pilots around. We’ll all miss him.
We did have a good laugh at his funeral. You know how that goes. Somebody had to tell the story about the day that Bob flew Eddie over Chicaugon Lake to scatter his Aunt Minnie’s ashes. Remember how we all lined up with Eddie’s family and passed the urn with the old lady’s remains in it hand to hand, down the line, till it got to Eddie? Aunt Minnie had lived on the lake most of her life and wanted her ashes spread there on a sunny day. So, after a run to the downwind end of the stip, off they went, circled all of us on the field and headed off for Chicaugon Lake. They were back about a half-hour later, grinning like idiots, parked the plane and headed for the pub with everyone else. What we found out later was that Bob had made a pass over the lake to check the wind. He held the urn while Eddie pushed open the door and held it with his foot. Then Bob handed him the urn and he took the lid off. Well, before he could even blink, the wind in the cabin had done a pretty good job of scattering Aunt Minnie all over the inside of the plane, on Bob and Eddie, under the seats and into the smallest nooks and crannes of the instrument panel. They swept and dusted as best they could all the way back and managed to get most of Aunt Minnie out just as they hit the South end of the strip in Stambaugh. We all figure she’s just as happy, spread over about 300-square miles of God’s County, not just one 25-square mile lake. That’s the plane Bob went down in. At least he wasn’t really alone.
OK, I gotta go fill lanterns.
Piper
We did have a good laugh at his funeral. You know how that goes. Somebody had to tell the story about the day that Bob flew Eddie over Chicaugon Lake to scatter his Aunt Minnie’s ashes. Remember how we all lined up with Eddie’s family and passed the urn with the old lady’s remains in it hand to hand, down the line, till it got to Eddie? Aunt Minnie had lived on the lake most of her life and wanted her ashes spread there on a sunny day. So, after a run to the downwind end of the stip, off they went, circled all of us on the field and headed off for Chicaugon Lake. They were back about a half-hour later, grinning like idiots, parked the plane and headed for the pub with everyone else. What we found out later was that Bob had made a pass over the lake to check the wind. He held the urn while Eddie pushed open the door and held it with his foot. Then Bob handed him the urn and he took the lid off. Well, before he could even blink, the wind in the cabin had done a pretty good job of scattering Aunt Minnie all over the inside of the plane, on Bob and Eddie, under the seats and into the smallest nooks and crannes of the instrument panel. They swept and dusted as best they could all the way back and managed to get most of Aunt Minnie out just as they hit the South end of the strip in Stambaugh. We all figure she’s just as happy, spread over about 300-square miles of God’s County, not just one 25-square mile lake. That’s the plane Bob went down in. At least he wasn’t really alone.
OK, I gotta go fill lanterns.
Piper