TERRY FOX, COURAGE, and A WONDERFUL STRANGER

                  Terry Fox, GREAT COURAGE  and A WONDERFUL STRANGER

It was about six am, August 31, 1980.I had flown my private plane into the small thunder Bay Airport, and had arrived last evening from Winnipeg. 

I was on my way from Vancouver to the Air Traffic Control College in Cornwall Ontario to take a Computer course for supervisors.  

Sitting in the back seat of the taxi taking me to the airport. I strained my ears to hear the news from the driver’s radio in the front seat. I really couldn’t hear it well, but the word Terry Fox came in loud and clear. Being from British Columbia I had been following Terry’s run with admiration and amazement.

“Could you turn the radio up a bit please?” I asked the driver. There was no response from the driver, in fact as I asked he had changed the station. I was a little disappointed, as I wanted to hear where Terry had finished the day before. I knew he was getting close to Thunder Bay, and there was a rumour going around, he was having some health problems.

The Taxi driver, breaking a few rules I’m sure, dropped me off right at my airplane. After getting my bags, and giving him a rather big tip( for a cheapskate like me) I inhaled a large breath of the sweet morning air, and threw all my stuff in the back seat of the aircraft.

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 I did the preflight walk-around on my 1950 Beechcraft Bonanza aircraft. It was a very easily identified low wing aircraft. This was due primarily by the V- tail configuration. It was the only private aircraft with this type of tail assembly. The BE35 has a cruising speed of180mph, and a range with tip tanks of about 1000 miles.

Terry Fox kept popping into my mind.  The admiration I felt for this young man was really beyond words.

After getting airborne  as I passed over Isle Royale, just off the end of the runway, I made a right turn and picked up a heading of 100 degrees, which I figured would be direct to Toronto. Larry Olsson would meet there and put me up for the night.

There was a solid overcast at about four thousand feet and as I leveled off at thirty-five hundred it suddenly dawned on me there was an awful lot of water ahead. Now remember I was from Delta BC, right on the shore of the huge Pacific Ocean. I should have been used to flying over the ocean, and indeed I was, well at least what I thought of as the Pacific Ocean, the Strait of Georgia. This piece of water was only about eight nautical miles across in the area I normally crossed from Delta to Vancouver Island. As I looked ahead at the seemingly endless expanse of water and down at my map, I realized Lake Superior really was an inland ocean. So being a devout coward, I decided to veer more to the right and more or less follow the USA shoreline.

After refueling at Sault Ste Marie, I was flying at one thousand feet AGL (above ground level) on a typical summer day in southern Ontario, that is, hot, muggy, poor visibility and a bit of light turbulence. Being rather low I couldn’t help but notice the attractive small towns and villages as I flew over, reminded me of England. 

I was planning on landing at the small Toronto Island Airport, situated on a small island, in downtown Toronto. However, I had forgot the CNE airshow was on that afternoon.  I was forced to land way out at Pearson International.

I called Pearson.

“Pearson Terminal, Bonanza, Xray, Delta, Victor.” 

“XDV, terminal, go ahead.”

“Yes Terminal, I’m about 22 miles northeast, squawking 1200, at 1500 feet, heading 100, requesting landing information.

“Roger XDV, Runway 26 right, wind 280, at 12 knots. Visibility 4 miles in haze. Call downwind north side, for a right-hand approach. Squawk ident.  Radar identified 20 miles northeast.”

Call tower on 118.7 now.

Oh, and Terminal, is Helmut Wiens working today?”

“No, he just went home, should I tell him who asked?”

“Yes, if you would, Larry, from Vancouver terminal.”

Helmut was an old friend I worked with for several years in CYVR, who transferred to CYYZ.

So, as I peered through the haze I was wondering If Larry still had his car and would mind coming out to pick me up.

“Pearson Tower XDV with you 1500ft 19 out.”

“XDV tower, identified call downwind, presently number 5 behind an Air Canada DC 8, about 12 back on final.”

Eventually as I was downwind right hand, I made out the DC8 about two miles back on final. This was very good as I was worrying a bit about wake turbulence behind him, but this was good distance.

“XDV Tower cleared to land, runway 26 Right. Check the gear. Will you be going to parking on the north side?”

“Check, cleared to land, that’s affirmative, Tower.”

After touching down. “XDV tower, turn right next taxi, contact ground on 129.1

“Ground XDV, with you.”

“XDV Ground, Straight ahead, right at next.”

“Roger Ground.”

“XDV ground, you have flames streaming back from the cowling.”

“Check your remarks ground, thanks.”

I pulled over to the first parking space I could find in the ‘Private Aircraft Parking’ area, and immediately Shut down the engine, turned off all electricals, and master switch. I leaped out to see what was going on! The cowling on the starboard side was crackling, and hissing. Using my smarts, I opened it first. It was obvious instantly that about 25% of the exhaust manifold had burned right off, and the rest didn’t look to healthy either.

As it happened I always carried a rather large tool kit with me. So, I took stock of the situation and decided I had the proper tools to take off the manifold. Of course, the chance of getting it off without stripping or breaking a stud was about zero! Since I had arrived early I phoned Larry from the flying club, and told him I would take the bus later, and I wouldn’t be there till around six, or in five hours. The manager of the club told me there was an Aircraft welding service about a 2km down the road, if I did manage to get the manifold off.

Arriving back at the aircraft I realized it was getting very hot out. In fact, it was 28C, no wind, and a clear sky, and of course, this was Southern Ontario, so the humidity was high! Coming from Vancouver this felt stifling. After getting all my tools laid out, I gingerly approached the hot engine, but to my surprise it had cooled and was just warm to the touch. I started to work with great trepidation as I took my ratchet to the first nut. It didn’t want to move. I went to another, it also seemed determined to not let go. After about three more like this, and one skinned knuckle I remembered I had put my two foot breaker bar in the baggage area. Starting over with the bar, eventually the first nut slowly started to turn. By this time, I had my shirt off, sweat was pouring down my face, and an hour had passed.

I was becoming just a tad annoyed. A little sunburned. Stupid airplane! Stupid mechanic at home – his job – not mine.

About two hours later, against all odds, I had managed to get all the nuts off, after some very serious wrestling with the manifold, and skinning another knuckle, I finally had it off, and on the ground. I was now getting real sunburn, running out of sweat, very hot, thirsty, oh and did I mention no breakfast. 

My mood had not improved since the first skinned knuckle!

An exhaust Manifold from a 225hp Continental Aircraft engine is not extra heavy, only about forty pounds. This part of an aircraft is though very awkward to carry. Many sharp edges. Rusty.

“Just walk the two blocks to the gate, turn right, straight ahead, on the left, can’t miss it” That’s what the manager said.  I begin trudging to the gate with the manifold over my shoulder. Several pilots tinkering with planes that actually flew, gave me some strange, quizzical looks as I with naked shoulders glowing, passed them. I finally got to the road, turned right and started the long walk to the welders. By now I was very tired, hot, and depressed, head down now shuffling along on the grass beside the road.

  After about fifteen minutes of this, a newer Volvo pulled off the road and parked ahead of me.

“Like a lift to Bill and Joes Welding shop”?

“Boy would I ever”. I said as I fought to fit the manifold and me into the front seat of his lovely new car.

“So how did you know I was going to the welding shop?”

“Well it was just a wild guess, when I see this bedraggled guy carrying half an aircraft engine over his shoulder along the road”. He said.

“Oh” I said

“That’s a manifold in need of some very serious welding, Oh and by the way my name is George”.

“Yeah, the tower thought I was on fire, and I’m Larry Bennett.

“So here we are Larry, tell you what, I’m a good friend of the owner, I can take you around the back and maybe sneak you in front of that crowd inside”

“No, no, George you don’t have to do that, you have done more than enough already.”

By this time George had got out of his side and was opening my door to help me out with my load.

“Ok I’ve got it larry, just follow me”.  As he started to the rear of the shop, carrying the manifold!

It was like old home week for George and his friend Henry. Before I knew what was happening my exhaust manifold was being worked upon by an older gentleman that looked like he knew what he was doing. Soon henry gave me a work order form with the job being done and the price.

“Ok larry, now take this form around to the front of the building, and take it up to the counter, tell them Henry is working on it in the back, and it will be up soon” Said Henry.

George quickly grabbed the order from Henry’s hand and said, “ follow me larry.” As he started out the door.

Well I did follow George, and before I knew it. he had moved to the front of the line, been served, paid the bill, and with me following along behind started for the car.

 ”Oh, do you want to carry your airplane?” he said, as he handed me the now, new looking, manifold.

So, with me in the front seat, holding my precious manifold, we arrived back at the airport. George drove right up to the Bonanza, parked the car and came around to my side and helped me out.

“Just put it down here for a few minutes and jump into the car I want to show you something.”

I did as I was told; I believe maybe I was in some form of shock. We drove about a block to the aircraft owners parking, where he parked the car in the closest space available.

“See this older clunker two spaces over?”

“I leave this old car at the airport, just for little things like happened today.”

“I put the keys under the drivers’ seat.”

“The car is locked, but see this little window vent, it looks like it is locked, but if you push it real hard, it will open.”

He got it open, and with considerable effort, managed to get his arm in position to be able to pull up on the door lock.

“Now larry, that’s how to do it, you may use the car all you want anytime you are at this airport.” As he handed me his card.

“I really must be going Larry; it was nice meeting you.” As he  jumped into his Volvo, started, it and was gone in about one minute.

I stood there in shock for a few moments, then started back to the airplane. I think I thanked him several times and a few “no I couldn’t do that’s” But it was hard to get a word in!

I would worry about putting everything back together tomorrow. I phoned larry and he came and picked me up.

Sept 1st

The next morning, I decided to take the bus out to the airport. As luck would have it, I sat next to an attractive young lady. We were chatting away and I found out she was a Doctor in downtown Toronto. I mentioned I was from Vancouver and was interested in the progress of my hero Terry Fox. She said that he seemed to be having great problems the day before. She also gave me her name, it sounded like Fox, but I was not sure, I let it go, quite a coincidence.

After arriving at the airport  and taking a taxi over to the private aircraft area, I was finally able to start putting the manifold back on the Bonanza. It was amazing, everything went very smooth. In my bitter experience of working on cars, or Aircraft, nothing went according to plan.

Sept 2

Terry Fox had stopped his run just outside Thunder Bay the evening before, evidently having serious problems breathing, and new pain in his leg.

The aircraft work was completed, had a test flight and ready to go.

It was looking like I may be able to depart for Cornwall in a few hours.

But it dawned on me I was starving and decided to take George’s old car down the road, past the welding shop, to a small snack bar for a bite.

I had only been on the road for a few minutes when the announcer on the radio cut-in on the program to announce a special live report. 

It turned out it was Terry Fox giving an interview. He sounded so tired, and as he spoke, through tears, suddenly my eyes filled, and I had to pull over and stop the car.

As the interview continued, Terry became very choked up, and had a very hard time speaking.

As I sat there in the wonderful old car listening, I noticed a steady stream of my tears, literally pouring  off my chin.

When the interview was over, I decided to forget eating, turned the car around and drove back to the airport.

I was off the ground within the hour, on my way to Cornwall.

I just had to do some thing to get my mind off the interview with Terry.