|
Here's the scoop on Skunkie. I apologize for the length of this post, but I needed to get this off my chest, anyways.
The Celebrate Freedom Foundation sold the airplane and its hangar - one of the only untouched Curtiss-Wright Hangars in the US - to pay for its new AH-1 Cobra demonstration flight. The bomber was bought by a group of investors (many who had done so previously) calling themselves the South Carolina Historic Aviation Foundation. (I later found out that every museum that showed interest found the price outrageous upon inspection.) I joined the group for the first half of 2013 after coming back from doing some grad work at USM. With the plane they got an old Clarktor tug and the cradle the bomber was set in when it was raised thirty years ago The hangar was purchased by a bar owner from "Five Points" - an area of downtown Columbia that caters to the drunken college crowd. My intention was to a light a fire in the group to make sure that something was done with the bomber, and as such, I quickly got a spot on the board of directors (in an advisory capacity).
I began by researching the aircraft itself. The board was determined to not call the bird "Skunkie," they found the name demeaning and the pilot on the day it crashed did not recall it having a name (at the time he was still alive and living in Atlanta). The problem was that he didn't recall what color it was either, as training crews were not assigned individual aircraft. The board was not pleased when I pulled pictures of the aircraft's raising that showed that this B-25 originally had a natural metal finish with the name "Skunkie" clearly painted in black on the right side. They tried to convince me that the paint might have washed off while sitting under the lake, but they couldn't explain why the stencils had remained (which included a few names of the aircraft's groundcrew).
From there I tried to convince them of the need to move the airplane to a temperature-controlled environment. You see, the hangar has not been touched since the 1940s and all the windows and most of the roof is missing - in reality, a condemned building in all but name. Worse yet, we didn't own the hangar and we had just borrowed time to move the bomber. I arranged for Ray Moore (from the Lucky 13 B-17 project) to come down and look at the plane. Ray was a class act and noted some severe corrosion on the main wing spar and warned that if the bomber was not housed properly soon, we'd one day "drive down to find it in a heap on the floor." Unfortunately, Ray didn't have time to meet with the entire board - remember, Spartanburg is a long ways away - so the board's reaction was to wrap the airplane in tarps precisely when it was the hottest time of the year. As far as I know, they didn't go through with this.
From there I tried to find out just what had been done to the plane up to that point. The latest paint job had been globbed on with what appeared to be house paint as the cans were left in the cockpit. The lower half of the bomber had been replaced with sheet metal and a hole had been cut out for the cockpit. The entire interior is gone. The turret is missing (the dome is a fake), the radios, chairs; everything. Various components of the interior like map-cases, parachutes, and life-jackets had been given to local museums, but when they were contacted they denied having them. When I tried to ascertain what happened, nobody would give me a straight answer. Some ten years after it was raised, the local boy scouts group had raised the money to get the airplane onto its wheels and have it brought to Columbia. The old project leader attended a few meetings (I don't think he was a member) and I quickly figured out that the airplane's interior was alternatively pocketed and/or sold. (He admitted he had some of it, but wouldn't say exactly what.) The struts are welded down with braces bolted together to keep the plane from collapsing. The engines are not original, and may not be correct for that model (the dataplate had been painted over so it was impossible to read). Portions of the skin are so thin that a finger can poke through. The idea had been in the early 1990s for the airplane to be given to the State Museum. The museum declined taking it, and after briefly keeping it in the parking lot out front, the bomber was eventually moved to the Curtiss-Wright Hangar at Owens Field (a small airfield on the other side of town).
While researching the bomber I also researched the old tug. Structurally, the tug was in just as bad a condition as the bomber, but the engine still ran so they kept on using it. Through the Clarktor Enthusiasts group I was able to pull up its records from Clarktor, showing that the tug was a 1952 model stationed at Norfolk, VA. I suggested that we restore the tug to show SOME effort and the board relented when the steering wheel broke off while tugging the bomber out for a children's festival. I took it home and took it apart by hand and did some minor cleaning. I made several contacts for parts and wrote up a detailed report of what was required to restore the tug (sandblasting, painting correct period markings, replacing missing parts, etc.). This was met with major resistance as the board wanted it painted Olive Drab a la WWII - even though this model did not exist at that point in time and Olive Drab was never used on that model - and dragged their feet in ordering parts. The reason was made very clear: most of the board preferred that I simply fix the steering wheel and did not agree with the chairman's decision to restore it. When it became clear that, even if I had restored it, they were going to leave it out in the rain and sun, I reassembled it and returned it.
Lastly, the bar owner who had purchased the hangar was a close friend of the board's chairman, making meetings extremely tense as said bar owner attended meetings and met in private with the chairman. He wanted the bomber to be the centerpiece of a restaurant built from the old hangar. For many of us, this was a bad move. The location is, frankly, in the bad side of town, so the restaurant is bound to not get sufficient traffic, and the hangar is so untouched that the original toilets and shower are still there (even though they are covered in grass, rust, and the like). The idea that tearing out items possibly used by Amelia Earhart and Orville Wight to make room for a kitchen seemed disrespectful. (How in the world DHEC would approve that area for a restaurant is beyond me.)
So, in light of all that, I resigned. Since then, the bomber has been moved to a rented hangar on the other end of the field while work is set to begin on the restaurant. The steering wheel on the tug has been fixed and has been painted in Olive Drab. Whenever the Collings or Liberty Foundation come by they wheel her out as they always have. The condition of the bomber and tug is the same (aside from the tug's new paint-job). The airplanes cradle is still untouched - they weren't interested in preserving it (even though it has been used in two separate B-25 recoverys). Little has really changed.
I might have some pics if you still want them.
|
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
