The Awakening . . .

Mike Larson's article (http://www.cessna195.org/Memories/UnclesGift/) on his first encounter with a 195 and how it stayed with him for so many years until he finally got one, well, it made me think about my personal experiences. I didn't get a ride from my uncle, but nonetheless, a 195 made its way into my heart!

When I was but a young lad, probably about 4 years old, I "discovered" airplanes. Oh, not the big ones. It was the gas-powered U-control model planes that first captivated my attention and imaginations. In a vacant lot just a few blocks from where we lived in Atlanta, some "big kids" would fly their models on Sunday afternoons. The buzzing of their motors would have me begging Dad to take me to watch them. He'd usually give in, after a suitable amount of whining and promises to carry out the trash and do other distasteful chores for a week or so!

My brother, George, with my first airplane (ohmigosh, it's a Bonanza!)

That started a lifelong interest in aviation and love of flying for my younger brother and me. After we'd moved to Guymon, Oklahoma in 1955 (smack in the middle of the high plains of the Oklahoma Panhandle) my brother, George, and I would pedal our bicycles out to the municipal airport and hang around all day. We'd offer to help wash planes, sweep out hangars, or simply sit and watch the planes come and go. All the while imagining ourselves as the Commanders of these fine craft, mind you.

Guymon is conveniently located well distant from anywhere else, so a lot of the local businessmen and farmers had planes that they used for transportation. I can remember to this day how much I loved being among all the airplanes and special tools and people who knew about them. Listening intently to the pilots as they talked about "… this Aeronca's superiority for short-field work…" or "… how tricky that Swift was to land!" was like a special communion. The aura of the surplus leather jackets, the sunglasses … the ever-present coffee cup. Well, I really looked up to them and hung on their every word. Even today, I like to surround myself with airplane junk, drink coffee and pretend that I know all about these incredible machines.

In those days, my father worked for Oklahoma State University (nee Oklahoma A&M) as a "field" County Extension Agent in Agricultural Engineering. Dad's job was to consult with local farmers in the region and help them plan and implement their crop irrigation systems. He traveled a lot, mostly to the farms in the region via car, transporting a load of surveying and water flow measurement equipment. Occasionally he'd have to attend meetings back at the main campus in Stillwater. Stillwater was all the way back in the "Greater Oklahoma" region; must've been all of 250 miles away from little old Guymon. Those trips called for air transportation!

Central Airlines' DC-3 at Guymon Airport, circa 1956

Guymon's commercial airline support was spotty. After all, the town was only some 3,500 souls; how could that meager headcount support any consistent airline service? In the 50s, Central Airlines did their best, but would be on again, off again in providing flights into Guymon, flying DC-3s …. Wow, what an airplane that was! Occasionally, the local businessmen would pool their resources and buy up a block of tickets and fly citizens for free to a day of shopping in Lamar, Colorado on a first-come, first-served basis just to keep the airline servicing Guymon. But I digress ….

The Beginnings of Lust . . .

If it was a large meeting that was planned in Stillwater, O.S.U. would send out one of their two Twin Beeches and County Extension Agents from Guymon and other places would get the executive treatment. Most often, though, it was just my Dad who was needed and they'd send one of their four 195s. When one of the 195s showed up they really stood out, even among the WW II surplus planes that were so common back then!

Hoyt Walkup (2nd from left) and O.S.U. Officials in 1952
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The swooping tail, the blistered cowling. That tiny little windshield that you could hardly see from the ground. That step that swung down when the door was opened allowing a graceful exit. The sounds and sights of their startups. Well, these 195s just looked and sounded and smelled (and oozed) like real airplanes! I still have a 1957 FLYING Magazine that has a flight test of a 195. Over the 48 years since that issue was brand new, I must've flipped through those pages a thousand times, reading every word! Back in 1957 I knew that if I could ever become a pilot, THAT'S the plane for me!

Another family move (to Stillwater), junior-and-high schools, Navy service, college and marriage came before I got to realize the dream of becoming a pilot. I finally got my Private License in 1976 at Addison, Texas, flying (of course) a Cessna 150. That year coincided with the birth of our elder daughter with the attendant cash shortages and time demands. Further complicated by yet another move (Sue's and my second move since I'd graduated from college and had begun working as an engineer for a major electronics company), this caused me to hang up my flying goggles for a few years. But, I had noticed a derelict old 195 sitting at Goode Airport near Fort Worth and had learned that it could be had for the princely sum of $5,000. Hmmmm. No way could I amass that kind of cash. Not now, anyway. So, I forgot about flying. Shucks. For awhile.

The Hook's Set! . . .

George got his Private license and bought a Cessna 140A. He flew it to Houston to visit us (yep, another move). Shame on him! He rekindled a desire and interest I'd managed to push to the back of my mind for years! After a day of buzzing the beaches off of Galveston and flying just anywhere we wanted (having been a renter, I just was giddy with the freedoms associated with having your own plane!) I put together a shoestring budget, borrowed some money from my parents and bought my own Cessna 140 about a year later. I was flying again! And I could pretend that my 140 was just as pretty as a 195. Well, they're from the same family at least, and the 3rd wheel is at the proper end of the plane anyway!

N2364V at a Fly-in somewhere in Texas

After a couple of years of gaining flying experience at 90 knots and a fair to moderate amount of rationalizing to Sue how nice it would be to have a bigger plane; (…. why, we could fly up to Oklahoma for just about any weekend and take our three kids up there so they wouldn't grow up as strangers to their grandparents… and gee, your Mom's getting older .. we really ought to visit more often) she finally relented and let me start shopping for a family ship!

Of course, it had to be a 195!

The Quenching of Desire . . .

I shopped and shopped. Saturday morning became the day to hop around all the local airports, looking for the bulletin board ads that are always at the rural fields. Ask around to see if the locals know of any good 195s for sale.

Trade-A-Plane was devoured as soon as it arrived in the mail. I joined the International Cessna 195 Club. I learned all about the toilet seat bulkhead, tail struts, door posts and the myriad of C-195 lore. I'd call each owner of any of the planes listed that I even remotely felt were within reach and get the lowdown on all this important stuff and get pictures whenever possible. It seemed that, while $19,000 or $20,000 ought to buy a fair example of a 195 back in 1986, there were many examples much nicer and some real dogs. I had a tough time finding one in my league.

Finally, I decided on a plane based in Las Vegas … gorgeous, polished with red trim … reminded me of my pretty little 140, but all grown up. I talked with the owner, booked a flight to Vegas with a couple of cashiers' checks in by pocket and planned to find a mechanic, do a pre-buy inspection and make a deal on the trip. I'd figure out how to get it home to Texas later. That night, I tossed and turned in bed, dreaming short, sweet dreams of 195 piloting!

Just before walking out of my house, headed for the airport, the owner called and said, "Don't come. I've changed my mind. I'm going to keep the airplane."

I was crushed. I missed that plane like I missed my first girlfriend back in high school days!

Coyle and Sue Schwab's N3457V
photographed at Poplar Grove, IL (C77)

After a suitable mourning period, I rekindled efforts and finally located my 195 in Minneapolis. Having learned my lesson, I wasn't going to dilly dally this time! The following wintery (at least it seemed wintery to a Texan!) November Friday evening in 1986, I flew via airliner up to Minneapolis from Houston and booked into the hotel for the evening. The next morning, N3457V's owner joined me at the hotel for breakfast and brought all the logbooks. I pored over them during breakfast and decided that the plane seemed to have a spotted history with a long break in service back in the mid-60s (time off for good behavior, do you think?), but all logbooks were there, a few form 337s and lots of other assorted paperwork. Now, I wonder how the actual plane looks?

Turns out it looked really good, other than being one full year out of annual. To make the story short, I gave earnest money while I was there, ordered a title search from AOPA before I left Minneapolis and negotiated a contingent sale price for the plane delivered to my home airport near Houston. It took about six months to work out all the squawks on the plane after she arrived in Texas, but she's been a great plane since then. Sue and I, along with our kids, have flown coast to coast in her and have logged about 1,500 happy 195 hours so far.

We've kept the outside looking like original vintage 195, but the inside is all modernized with good IFR radios and even an autopilot and a plush leather interior. Sue can even enjoy inflight movies (DVD) in the back seat during those long legs. We're even more appreciative of having '57V at our beck and call with our two youngest children now college students at different universities. We can surprise 'em by dropping in for lunch now and then! Sometimes we're even more surprised than they are.

Stillwater, Oklahoma Airport

On one of our recent visits to SWO, we noticed that the FBO had cordoned off a corner of the terminal building and made a little museum describing the airport's history. Prominent among the awards and photographs was a giant picture of Hoyt Walkup who was the airport's manager for many years, and (lustfully!) a couple of great photos of that fleet of 195s that kindled my interest all those years ago. Mike Fitzgerald, the FBO manager, generously let us copy a few of the photos. A couple of them are included here.

A fleet of four beautiful Cessna 195s
at Stillwater, OK airport in December, 1952
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These show the fleet of four 195s and were shot on December 2, 1952. You can see the Oklahoma A&M logos on the fuselages, just like I remembered them.

A view from the Tower
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For the Schwabs, at least, the 195 has been a great airplane. Almost a family member, complete with assorted nicknames. Some of the monikers are nice ones; those that we use close to "annual time" are less complimentary.

In it, we've taken many family trips. Some as distant as California or Florida or New England. We had many chances to visit parents and grandparents that otherwise would've not been visited due to logistics. We've met so many friends who share such a unique common interest.

Sure, it's been expensive, but how could that money be better spent? (Don't ask Sue, please!) I really can't imagine not having the 195 to polish and fly. It's been the realization of a lifelong dream for me!