It's Not Easy Being Green

The Previous Lives of Glider 1-26E SN 575

By Larry E. Large

Though not a sequel to The Good Ship 334, the following story could be considered the next chapter in the saga of 1-26 sailplanes at Silent Wings Soaring, Inc. Especially since Schweizer glider SGS 1-26E Serial Number 575 was being manufactured in Elmira, New York during the Autumn of 1973 - the exact same time period the story about SN 334 was taking place about 100 miles south along the ridge in Pennsylvania!

Where were you, and what were you doing those warm, bright days of mid-October 1973? We now know where these gliders were, and what was happening to them that fall 33 years ago, but little did we know that some day all of our paths would actually cross. And what has happened since then to SN 575? In order to provide some further background and to set the stage for her entrance into our lives, here's what I know about her and what I recall of that era long ago - maybe you have similar recollections?

I had worked that entire long hot summer as a grounds-keeper at a new horse-racing track near Fairview, PA (west of Erie) and had saved enough money ($1600!) to pay for tuition, books, art supplies and room and board for the next year, my sophomore year, at Edinboro State College now known as Edinboro University of Pennsylvania. There were no personal computers yet; in fact, I had to register for classes that fall using computer punch cards and a #2 pencil to darken my selections. This was less than a year after the last manned moon landing in December 1972. Both the World Trade Center in New York City and the Sears Tower in Chicago had officially opened in the spring, and shortly afterward, Pioneer 11 was successfully launched on its epic journey to the outer planets. Spiro Agnew had just resigned as Vice President amid a scandal of income tax evasion, but, oddly enough, the continuously broadcast Watergate Hearings on both radio and TV had not yet started (that would be later in the Summer of 1974). Although the Vietnam War was winding down, I was still nervously monitoring the Draft Lottery.

On one of the four channels you could get on TV, Archie Bunker and "All In The Family" was nearing its peak in popularity and would gradually be eclipsed in a few years by Kermit and “The Muppet Show”. Billie Jean King had soundly defeated Bobby Riggs in the widely promoted and televised “Battle of the Sexes” tennis match the latter part of September. Dick Clark (who looks the same now as he did then) was hosting the 20^th Anniversary of "American Bandstand" that fall, and some of the top songs playing on the radio were "Reelin' In The Years" (by Steely Dan), "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" (by Bob Dylan), "Free Ride" (by the Edgar Winter Group), "Higher Ground" (by Stevie Wonder), "Diamond Girl" (by Seals and Crofts), "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" (by Jim Croce) and "Love Train" (by the O'Jays - now the theme music for the Coors beer commercials).

Sherbet Lime Green and Burnt Orange were popular colors. My alma-mater high school football team was undefeated in their division the prior season, and remained number one that fall (a far cry from the autumn of my senior year in 1971 when they finished in the bottom half of the standings). I was home from college that warm, clear weekend in mid-October 1973 and took my girlfriend to the Friday night home game in their new stadium to watch the Tigers thrash the visiting team. She wore a horizontal-striped lime green and white short-sleeved scooped-neck top tucked neat and trim into lime green slacks. Besides the color, this outfit also complimented her shape, and made her stand out even more vividly in the crowd of rowdy and raucous red-and-black clad fans. It was difficult for me to watch the game let alone remember the name of the visiting team, or even the final score. Still, we laughed and yelled and cheered together until we were hoarse. But every time our eyes met, she'd look down shyly and smile, gently brushing aside several strands of long brown hair that were floating lazily around her face and neck in the light evening breeze….

Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yes - freeze-frame - lime green, "Reelin' In the Years" on the radio, warm, sunny fall days and clear nights, the nation and world not yet sullied by major political upheavals, the oil crisis, the internet, cell phones or even cable TV. Gas was cheap and plentiful. Life in general moved at a slower and more civilized pace. There was plenty of time to watch and dream about pretty girls, sailboats and gliders soaring in the glinting, golden sunlight. It was the pinnacle of an era, a bright pinpoint in time.

The next afternoon, and the day before Alberta Sterling struggled to keep her feet on the rudder pedals of SN 334 while they were bouncing above the ridge near State College, PA, Schweizer glider 1-26E Serial Number 575 had just come out of the paint booth at the Schweizer factory in Elmira, NY. The skilled workers involved in her final assembly were working overtime and were nearly done for the day. When she was complete, they wheeled her over near the big hangar doors at the west end of the plant. She sat there proudly in the sunlight, gleaming in her fresh new shiny-bright lime green paint job with orange and silver accent trim to await an airworthiness inspection and eventual delivery to her first owner. Her logbook was started, and on the first page the workers carefully entered her data including tail number (N65935 - not as memorable as 334’s "Niner-Two-One-Xray") and official colors - "Big Bad Green" with "Big Bad Orange" trim - perfectly in tune with the times and fads. They had every reason to believe she'd sell quickly. What a great looking ship! Little did they realize that it's not easy being green….

She continued to sit there for a few months, and then was moved several times to make room for others. After a long cold winter, she was finally inspected for airworthiness and, according to the records on file with the FAA, she was granted a Certificate of Airworthiness on February 15, 1974. Eagerly anticipating the coming season, she watched in dismay as others of her make and model left the factory before her. Finally, in the late spring of 1974, a Bill of Sale was drawn up, and she was conveyed to John W. King, the President of Atlanta Sailplanes in Williamson, GA by Paul A. Schweizer, Vice President of Schweizer Aircraft Corporation on May 30, 1974. She was disassembled and crated for the long journey south.

She patiently taught several students and club members brilliantly for two brief seasons, and then was readied for sale again and conveyed to Joseph M. Bennis (related to the Ginny Bennis who married Paul Schweizer?) of Bogota, NJ on September 9, 1975, then was quickly re-conveyed to Robert Vey, Jr in Sparta, NJ on October 15, 1975. Finally, she could settle-down and concentrate on teaching a single pilot all her wiles and ways! She was slightly different than the earlier models of 1-26s but just as he was catching on to her faster speeds, greater strength, higher allowable payload, and very effective upper and lower dive-brakes, he offered her for sale to Arthur Folli in the rural outskirts of Export, PA on December 30, 1978. Had she known what was confronting her, she would have never allowed herself to be disassembled and rolled onto the trailer.

For the next 11 years, she languished in the corner of a dark barn, and wasn't flown at all, or even re-assembled. When Arthur eventually died, she thought she'd be disassembled even further and sold for parts, but the co-executors of Arthur's estate decided to put her up for sale, and several exuberant soaring club members in Pittsburgh, PA heard about her and came quickly to retrieve her in August 1989. They feverishly loaded her onto one of the club's trailers they brought with them, carted her back to their gliderport, cleaned her up, complied with several outstanding Airworthiness Directives, and had her inspected and made ready for flight.

She soared joyfully again under the capable hands of her co-owners, Bruno Cerceo, David Ruminski and his soon-to-be wife Gail German at the Bandel Airport, home of the Pittsburgh Soaring Association. She steadily logged longer and longer flights throughout the 1990 and 1991 seasons, especially with Gail at the controls.

Then in June 1992, the newly-wed Ruminskis bought out Bruno's share and had her aero-towed to the nearby Columbiana County Airport in Ohio where a new glider operation was being started called the Beaver Valley Soaring Club. For the next few years, SN 575 and the Ruminskis had a glorious time soaring over the tri-state area, and she eventually reached a little over 200 hours in her flight log. When she wasn't being flown, they kept her tied-down safely in an open-air hangar near the main runway where she could watch all the takeoffs and landings. Sadly, the Ruminskis had to move farther away after 1995 and couldn't fly as much as they wanted. Eventually, the club disbanded and sold their big yellow Call-Air tow plane to another glider operation in Grove City, PA.

For yet another 11 years, SN 575 was left without any means of moving except this time there was an occasional breeze that would stir and bounce her creakily on her moorings. In 1998 she watched hopefully while a new canopy was fitted over her cockpit, but weeks and months afterward, when no one came to fly her, she settled deeper onto her deflated main wheel, dejected and forlorn. Bird droppings and dust collected on her wings and fuselage - even her new canopy. What had become of her? Once she was the height of fashion, bright lime green and gorgeous, well formed, fit and trim, sleek and fast - a real knockout. But fashion fades away, and now it appeared that nobody wanted her anymore. And this after only 25 years - barely 200 hours on her airframe! She wished she could erase what the years had etched on her face and fuselage. It truly hadn't been easy being green….

She'd give anything if only someone, anyone, would stop and look, really look deeply at her. Deep under her superficial, fading and out-of-date covering, her sagging wheels, her drooping tail. To really see and appreciate the luscious curves beneath the peeling skin, the still-young twinkle in her gauges, the frisky wiggle of her rudder and the "come-hither" sashay of her wings. She longed to soar again, to feel the gentle, firm guidance of a confident and loving pilot on her controls. To stretch her wings and laugh in the sunlit and billowing clouds. She'd gladly change her make-up, her shoes, her entire wardrobe, even update her instrument panel, anything to get back into the sky and sunlight again. If only someone who really appreciates everything she was, is, and could be again would come by…. If only (sigh)…. It's not easy being green….

In September 2004, there was a message on my answering machine from Steven Rhule at Silent Wings Soaring, Inc., saying that if I was still interested in purchasing a 1-26, Noel Dean told him there was an all-metal 1-26 E model available around East Liverpool, Ohio, less than 30 miles from me. I called the phone number he gave me and made arrangements to go there and see her.

When I arrived, I spent over an hour walking around her and crawling under her. I sat in her cockpit and flexed her controls, cycled her dive-brakes, and took some pictures. There was no gust-lock on her rudder and her wing moorings were too loose, but I tightened her seat belt firmly around her control stick and made sure her canopy was latched securely before I walked over to the FBO office and reviewed her logbook, which was kept there. Afterwards, I sat for a long time in my car and debated with myself after doing some calculations. She'd definitely need some work to bring her back to airworthiness, and then still more to get her back to the condition she deserved to be in. Besides that, she didn't have a trailer. This refined and sophisticated E model would need more attention than I'd be able to give her.

For the second time in my life, I briefly held a pretty girl dressed in lime green in my arms, and then had to let her go. As I backed out of the gravel parking lot and drove slowly away, I looked at her wistfully in the rear-view mirror. She tugged at her mooring ropes and her wings rocked back and forth a few times. Finally, she tipped listlessly to one side and her rudder wagged a single half-hearted goodbye. I swallowed hard in a vain attempt to get rid of the lump in my throat….

Two long years later she's awakened from a deep slumber by a familiar clattering and rattling sound in the distance. She clears some cobwebs from a corner of her canopy and peers with cautious optimism down the road at the noise and dust cloud moving slowly toward her. Could it be? It's much too long to be any ordinary vehicle. As it rounds the corner of the hangar, and passes in front of her, her variometers leap with joy! Yes, it's a trailer, and not just any trailer! It's a long, open sailplane trailer, and the tow vehicle has a big blue and yellow sign on the side door, which reads "Silent Wings Soaring, Inc., Grove City, PA, Glider Rides, Rentals, Instruction". She suppresses a squeak of anticipation in her ailerons as the trailer starts backing slowly toward her nose and stops. Two men get out of the tow vehicle and walk over to her. One has his hands on his hips and runs his eyes up and down her appreciatively, admiring her flush rivets and smooth, flowing lines, a smile on his face. The other has some tools in his hands and without any further greeting or formal introduction, opens her canopy and starts removing her wing pins in preparation to disassemble her. In less than an hour, she's safely secured on the trailer, wedged between her upright wings, a feeling she has nearly forgotten.

The two men re-hitch the trailer to the tow vehicle, get in, buckle-up, and then look back fondly at the sleek glider behind them. The driver starts the engine, puts it in gear, and they maneuver slowly and carefully down the airport road. The man in the passenger seat reaches over and tunes the radio to an oldies station. They finally make a wide, sweeping turn onto the main highway and increase speed. A bright pinpoint of sunlight sparkles briefly on her canopy as the faint chords of "Diamond Girl" drift back to her through the open windows of the tow vehicle. She breathes a long, contented sigh of relief. She's once more with those who love her, and she's going home again! To her home in the sky….

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All rights reserved. Copyright © L. E. Large 2006, who still manages to find time to watch pretty girls (his wife Joanne and Ursa their dog), sailboats (at Lake Arthur, Moraine State Park), and gliders soaring in the glinting, golden sunlight (at the Aero Soaring Club, Dart Airport near Mayville, NY), yet is eager to re-acquaint himself with an old flame made new - SN 575.