by Dean Zakos
© Copyright 2020, 2024. All rights reserved.
Published in Midwest Flyer Magazine June/July 2024 Digital Issue
To paraphrase:
“When once you have tasted AirVenture, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned toward Oshkosh, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”
There was no Oshkosh in 2020.
All the weeks spent at Oshkosh under Wisconsin summer skies are memorable; some more memorable than others. I remember one Oshkosh of constant rain, ever-present rumbles of thunder, ubiquitous puddles, muddy grounds, but always pleasant dispositions. That summer became known as “SloshKosh.”
Other summers held promising prospects of seeing things close up, most of us in general aviation never have a chance to experience. The sleek Concorde, performing not one, but two eye-catching passes prior to touchdown; the Airbus A380 hanging, low and slow, on short final; walking through an Air Force C-5 Galaxy transport; Bob Hoover entertaining the crowd in his Shrike Aero Commander; Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins, the crew of Apollo 11, appearing together on the 25th anniversary of the Moon landing; Patty Wagstaff corkscrewing through the air in her Extra 300S; and, of course, who can forget “Jet Man,” one of the few attractions the summer our elected representatives (in their infinite wisdom and in keeping with their interminable rounds of political warfare) decided to reduce the Defense Department budget, grounding all military aircraft from performing demonstrations or participating in static displays.
Because Wittman Field stood empty and silent, the summer of 2020 deserves a name as well. I believe it is entirely appropriate to tag this particular part of the last week of July and first week of August 2020 as “NotKosh.”
We had little control over the sometimes random, sometimes contrived, events that unfolded in front of us in 2020. A worldwide pandemic and its inevitable economic recession, a hotly contested Presidential election, peaceful protests, and out-of-control riots and looting. In 2020, possibly more than ever before, we needed Oshkosh.
My son and my daughter have been attending Oshkosh with me since they were little. One of our best memories, among many, was watching the afternoon air shows while reclining in the long shadow of the east side of the old control tower. The welcomed shade the tower provided, the perfect angle of the grassy hill for reclined viewing, and the close proximity of the tower to cold drinks and ice cream, made that venue a perfect spot to spread our Tweety Bird bedsheet and relax. I had hoped that my grandson would join us at Oshkosh for the first time in 2020.
The old control tower is gone now. A new control tower has taken its place. Change is inevitable. We have found other locations for enjoying the air shows. But even as we seek out the familiar and comfortable, we are continually amazed by the new attractions AirVenture offers each year. More aviation interests are being served and promoted and, even if you are not a pilot, there is more for you to do and see as well. One spectacular success is the Wednesday and Saturday night airshows and fireworks displays. If you have experienced these, you know how fantastic and entertaining they are.
I have always found it interesting that there are so many shared memories of AirVenture, and so many individual/personal memories as well. Oshkosh, in one sense, has always been comfortable and predictable. We all enjoy coming back to the same campsites; engaging again with groups of wonderful friends; having breakfast in the Warbird Café; gladly substituting cheeseburgers and deep-fried cheese curds for healthier lunch fare; spending time at KidVenture; standing three deep in front of an avionics vendor’s booth in an exhibitor hangar; enjoying a bag of freshly popped popcorn from the Red Barn in the Vintage aircraft area; drinking cool water from the tree-shaded bubblers next to the Brown Arch; standing in Warbird Plaza and listening to a pilot talk about an aircraft that made history; soaring above Wittman Field in a Bell 47 helicopter; delighting in “Jerry’s One Man Band;” watching the endless line of ultralights departing and arriving on the grass strip on the south end of the grounds; and sitting with a handheld radio under the wing of a parked DC-3 and tracking the arriving aircraft on Runway 27. “Red and Blue RV, make your base turn now. Green dot, land on the green dot.” “Yellow and white Cessna on downwind, rock your wings now.” “Piper Cherokee, nice job. Exit onto the grass when able and follow the flagmen to parking. Welcome to Oshkosh!”
I often begin my mornings at Oshkosh with warm, freshly made donuts (plain, sugar, or cinnamon) and coffee. This operation, a not-so-well-kept secret, started in a tent next to the International Aerobatic Club (IAC) display area many years ago, approximately at the corner of Wittman Road and Boeing (fna AeroShell) Plaza. Years later it was moved slightly farther north where it now shares enclosed space with several hamburger/hotdog/chicken sandwich vendors. Wooden picnic tables with eye-catching blue and orange umbrellas providing mostly unrestricted views of the flight line and Runway 18-36, are set out in front of the walk-up windows.
When not flying, I cannot envision a better place to be than sitting under an umbrella, watching AirVenture wake up slowly in the coolness of an early morning. In the distance, the Ford Trimotor’s engines are belching and turning over. The relative calm is broken only by a few GA aircraft landing or departing on 18-36, or the thunderous roar of a formation of T-6s, gracefully climbing and banking their polished wings in the direction of Lake Winnebago. Delivery trucks, transmissions grinding, occasionally pass in front of me, momentarily blocking the view of taxiway Papa and the runway. Pilots, friends, and families at nearby tables laugh and talk in low voices about their arrival experiences, how they spent the previous night, or formulate plans in anticipation of the day ahead.
I am at a point in my life where there is no compelling need for me to buy stuff, but I want to walk through the Fly Market anyway. It would be a challenge to attempt to describe the Fly Market. Like Las Vegas, it is better to counsel others to walk through it and see for themselves.
If you are a pilot or builder, often you can find exactly what you are looking for. To everyone else, it is a swap meet/garage sale; an outdoor museum; and a sort of an open-air Walmart, offering everything from flight suits, t-shirts, aviation books, sunglasses, one-of-a-kind aircraft parts, Ginsu knives, hand tools, massage chairs, toys, aviation apparel, bed pillows, and cookware. Whatever you are looking for, you will likely find it there.
In 2020, EAA offered many virtual seminars and presentations to fill the void left by the forums and workshops that were dark and empty on the grounds. On-line is fine, but it is not the same. No aviation celebrities on stage or sitting just a few feet away from you when you are participating only with your laptop from home. No arriving flight of F-22 Raptors in full afterburner to drown out a presenter’s voice. You can (and do) miss out by not being there.
Several years ago, I attended a talk on the Grumman A6 Intruder, the Navy’s primary attack aircraft until retired in 1997. I watched a gentleman come in and take a seat a few rows away from me. He had shoulder length, tied-back hair, and a long beard. He sported denim bib overalls and sandals. He could easily be mistaken for one of the Smith Brothers of cough drop fame or, if holding a guitar, a member of the band ZZ Top. I surmised he was connected with a commune and probably sold dope out of the trunk of his car. He must have become lost and just wandered in.
The presenter, neat and trim, was a retired naval aviator who flew A6s off a carrier deck in Viet Nam. About half-way through the presentation, the guy in the bib overalls raises his hand. He proceeds to stand up and inform the audience that he was a Marine Corps pilot who flew A6s out of Da Nang.
He wanted to correct a technical point the presenter made concerning the A6, as the presenter was apparently accurate when referring to the Navy’s aircraft, but inaccurate as it related to the Marines’ shore-based ops. Once I recovered from the shock, I recalled something about not judging a book by its cover.
I remember taking the bus to the EAA Museum and the strangers you meet on the short commute. You can walk to the museum, but it is easier to make your way to the Bus Park and board the regularly scheduled transportation. Always lines, but everyone is courteous and happy. On the bus, it was not unusual to discover that the young couple in front of me flew in from North Carolina, the older couple behind me flew in from New Mexico, and the two young men sitting across the aisle, wide-eyed and excited, are from Brazil on their first trip to Oshkosh.
The museum during AirVenture is always a buzz of activity. It is an opportunity to re-connect with aviation’s and EAA’s histories, and to see close-up many airplanes that you may have little chance to ever to be as near to again. If the mid-day warmth and sticky humidity outside are taking a toll, the museum’s air-conditioned interior offers an enjoyable, short-term respite.
I remember many years ago attending a talk by Oscar-winning actor and pilot, Cliff Robertson, in the Vette Theater. Alone, sitting casually on a stool on the bare stage, he entertained with stories about growing up in San Pedro, California, fellow actors he had worked with, his flying, and his poetry.
North and west of the Warbirds area, hidden along Cap Avenue, the Aviation Explorer Base was unoccupied and unattended in 2020. Explorer Scouts and advisor volunteers did not welcome and host hundreds of their fellow Explorer Scouts in 2020. No brightly colored tents were pitched, no eagerly anticipated meals were served, and no tram pulled by a John Deere tractor to transport the Scouts around the grounds when they were not engaged in projects or activities or volunteering to push/park aircraft or control pedestrians at taxiway intersections. The memories, the friendships, the good times, that could have, and would have, been made that summer were lost.
The Seaplane Base (96W), located on a photogenic bay on the west shore of Lake Winnebago, south of Oshkosh, stood quiet and green and ready in 2020, but the colorful Super Cubs, Cessnas, Lakes, de Havillands, and larger multiengine types, were not circling overhead or carving Winnebago’s placid waters that summer. They were elsewhere. The woods, always inviting for its shade, was silent, with only the faint humming of insects and the chirping birds who make their homes within. Out on the lake, a few motorboats in the distance pulled water skiers or returned from a morning’s fishing. If you went there in 2020, you would have found the moorings empty and the bay’s waters still.
There are ghosts who attend Oshkosh each year. Not scary phantoms or frightful spooks of disasters or mayhem, but good and endearing memories of pilots who once were and are no more. They may have been someone’s mom or dad, a spouse, a brother, a son or a daughter, or a good friend. If you look closely when you are on the AirVenture grounds, you can see their ethereal images sitting on a bench enjoying ice cream on a typical hot, humid Oshkosh afternoon. You can see them on the flightline, excited about being there, and proudly discussing the work and long hours they put in to build or restore their airplanes. You can see them strolling through the EAA gift shops, searching for that perfect t-shirt, ball cap, or other souvenir. You can see them at Theater in the Woods enjoying the warm breeze in the company of friends while taking in the evening’s program. You can see them in Paul’s Woods, or Camp Scholler, or the North 40, relaxing on lawn chairs outside of their campers and tents, or sitting next to their airplanes, laughing, and talking late into the dark and gentle night.
Some say, if you love airplanes, Oshkosh is airplane heaven.
I plan on returning to that heaven again this year.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Dean Zakos (Private Pilot ASEL, Instrument) of Madison, Wisconsin, is the author of “Laughing with the Wind, Practical Advice and Personal Stories from a General Aviation Pilot.” Mr. Zakos has also written numerous short stories and flying articles for Midwest Flyer Magazine and other aviation publications.
DISCLAIMER: Mr. Zakos’ articles involve creative writing, and therefore the information presented may be fictional in nature, and should not be used for flight, or misconstrued as instructional material. Readers are urged to always consult with their personal flight instructor and others about anything discussed herein.
