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    The Last Run of Five-Two-Eight
    The Last Run of Five-Two-Eight
    The Last Run of Five-Two-Eight
    Ebook72 pages1 hour

    The Last Run of Five-Two-Eight

    By Scott Gloodt

    ()

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    About this ebook

    An adventure story in which a pilot nearing retirement encounters more than he anticipated during his last Beech 18 cargo flight.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJan 1, 2020
    ISBN9781543994513
    The Last Run of Five-Two-Eight

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      Book preview

      The Last Run of Five-Two-Eight - Scott Gloodt

      © 2019 Scott Gloodt. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

      ISBN 978-1-54399-450-6 eBook 978-1-54399-451-3

      Cover artwork used with permission from Textron Aviation Inc. :

      Flight Handbook

      The Super 18 Beechcraft

      Beech E18S-9700

      G18S

      414-180192 A4

      Revised October 13, 1961

      Page 64 - Revised November 15, 1960

      Also by SH Gloodt:

      I’ll Take the 18 - The Story of Beech 18 Freight Flying

      .

      For Cal, who flew west before publication

      Pull up a chair and get comfortable; I’ll order us a couple of beers. The story isn’t long, but it’s important. It’s about the end of a man’s life, the end of a man’s working life. When he finishes, collects his gear, and leaves the field. Taking with him only the memories that will fill the rest of his days.

      How does the story have to be? Humble and decent. It’s not about money, or retirement, possessions, or putting others down, or ego. What do we really possess? What cannot be taken away from us? Only our integrity is of any worth. It’s a story about living in one’s own time, and knowing one’s role in that time, and living it nobly. Knowing when that time is fading, being gracious in old age, and accepting the next generation and the role they too must play.

      We gather stories unknowingly during our lifetimes, never actually knowing how they might affect us in the future. Sometimes we know when the important parts of our lives are happening, but mostly, life unfolds unscripted, living the times that ultimately define who we are, how we think of ourselves, and how we are remembered. Bear witness to the stories that quietly fill your life, and to the events that are part of your life, for no one knows which might hold the significance to save a life in the future.

      For now, sit back — and here come the beers. Refresh yourself and ride along. A few others will join us later, but not to be concerned, you won’t even know they’re here.

      So Cal lives his life. He’s always been a pilot. He always dreamed of being a pilot, and so he became a pilot and lived a pilot’s life. A pilot’s life was different when he started. Pilots of his grandfather’s age were wood and fabric aviators; World War I pilots and barnstormers, pilots in a fledgling age, when Lucky Lindy crossed the Atlantic solo and became a worldwide hero. Then there was his father’s generation; young men plunged into a second World War, much more mechanized than the first. Accessed, evaluated, trained — they were rushed out to war in aircraft of the latest technology, to bear the brunt of life-and-death before many of them even knew the sweetness of life. And now Cal’s time, when aircraft fill the skies, and air travel has become just another mode of transportation. But the wind and the sky have never changed, and aviators will always seek its realm.

      The future was slowly leaving Cal behind. His days had passed and he was the last of the last. He was called for a freight run to Detroit. Detroit. He’d been there so many times the radio frequencies had long been memorized and the Beech 18 seemed to fly there on autopilot, which, of course, it did not have. He listened to the telephone call with respectful deference; the young dispatcher was doing his job, as he knew it, as he was trained to do it, and Cal exercised patience while the man diligently tried to fulfilled his duty — but who had no practical experience. We’d all been young once.

      This was the last flight. The manager had already quietly taken him aside; at the end of July the last remaining Beech 18 would be retired. No one was requesting them anymore. So if there were no more calls before the end of July, that would be the end of the Beech 18, and the end of Cal’s career.

      Nevertheless, a call came in and there would be another run.

      He slipped into the booth at the diner and slid over on the vinyl cushion until he was at the far end, near the window. When had this become his booth? Really it was just by default. It was out of the way, and usually didn’t attract the attention of the waitresses, so it wasn’t very desirable.

      But it

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