Photo taken from the UT helicopter 09N. I loved flying in that bird with a crusty pilot named, of course, Pappy. You can see the door is off and one of the blurred rotors in the sky and my knee, bottom center.
BETTY PEACH-TSCHIRGI writes:
You mentioned a need for fresh subjects from the 919 Gang. This may have been covered previously, but I do not recall reading memories of the Copley Chopper that was parked at Lindbergh Field, and was on call for the Tribune city desk. The helicopter could be at the paper's pad in less than 10 minutes.
The landing pad was reached via the lunch room and big open deck added above the Tribune's annex building, if memory serves.
It was always such fun to get to the pad in time to watch the noisy beast approach from the direction of the Grant Hotel diagonally across the Land Title Building, and hover inches above the pad. A photographer and I waited at the foot of a half dozen stairs until the helicopter door opened, our signal to dash up the steps, crouching low to keep the head out of the path of whirling blades.
Liftoff was immediate, the nose tipping forward to pick up speed. the sensation of diving into the pavement was a shot of adrenaline every time. The pilot must have startled people on the street, for he didn't level off until the last second.
When we had a small machine, I always sat in the middle so the photographer had the window seat. Sometimes the door was removed to give the photog wider view. Sturdy seat belts recommended.
One assignment I remember especially because of its rarity: unusually heavy rains had flooded all the streams in the county and had washed out the approaches of the Santa Fe railroad bridge south of Oceanside.
The adjacent highway bridge floor was under water, so it was closed on both ends.
San Diego was essentially cut off from the rest of the world ... no rail, no road ... ah, but the wonderful helicopter came to the rescue. We left the office about 9 a.m., flew directly to the target flood, and returned to 919 Second Ave., in time to have photos splashed all over page 1 of the home edition.
All hail the power of the whirlybird!
My comments added:
Thanks Betty for jogging those helicopter memories. I loved flying in it too. It was an early Bell helicopter, the kind with an open tail boom and a huge plexiglas fishbowl bubble to sit in up front. You REALLY got the sensation of flying. I remember its radio call sign was Zero-Nine-November... niner, if you wanted to be really cool. I remember the pilot was a crusty old aviator called Pappy, what else? I never did know his last name and can't imagine why I would I want to. My favorite part was also the take off from the UT roof pad. Pappy would lift it up enough to clear the railing on the pad, then tip forward and swoop out over Second Ave, past the unforgiving building that towered above us on the right...was that the Spreckles Bldg?, and skim the parking lot and the UT garage on the corner to the left as he climbed. He seemed to think it desirable to get above all the buildings and power lines that surrounded 919.
What a lovely way to travel!
And Betty, I well remember that you always took the center seat so the photog could ride shotgun. I know that was a sacrifice, since you are a pilot yourself, and I always thought it was a class thing for you to do.
