story by Elmer Carlson Have you ever woken up one morning and just knew that something important and exciting was going to happen that day? Well, June 11th, 1947 was just such a day for me. I couldn’t imagine what was going to happen though, but I knew it would have to do with flying. I had completed one flying course with Lamb’s Flying Service at Felts Field in Spokane and received my Private Flying License. You might say that I had a slightly swollen head and figured the world was mine. I later found out that the Lord has a way of fixing that condition. Next was the Commercial Flying course. It gave me experience with several different planes. Some were called light and some were called heavy depending on the weight of the plane and how much horsepower the engine had. I had progressed far enough into the course that I was flying heavy aircraft. That day I was scheduled to fly the Fairchild PT26. It is a low wing monoplane that had been used by the Air Force as a primary trainer. The registration number on the wing was N49362. The flight school called it a heavy aircraft because an inverted Ranger engine of two hundred horsepower powered it. It was not a pretty plane, but it was functional and I liked it because it had a sliding hatch canopy that gave you the feeling that you were flying a small fighter. You could fly either with open cockpit or closed canopy. I had logged thirteen hours in it so I thought I was a veteran. After checking in at the flight office and signing the plane out I went out to the flight line and gave the plane a fast walk around ground check to make sure everything was attached. After checking the oil and fuel levels, I climbed into the cockpit and started the engine, let it run a few minutes to warm up, and started to taxi to the downwind end of the field. The controls all functioned normally and the magneto check showed about a 200 RPM drop which was alright, so I turned toward the control tower and waggled the stick so the ailerons moved to indicate that I was ready to take off. A few seconds later the attendant in the control tower favored me with a green light to indicate I was cleared for takeoff. Although Felt’s Field had a cement runway, most of the student flying was from the sod/gravel runway. This was where I started my take off. As always, the first few seconds after you advance the throttle fully are filled with anxiety because you don’t have full control until the speed is fast enough for the rudder to be effective. Then it is pure pleasure as the tail lifts off, you apply a little backpressure with the stick, the wheels break free of the ground, and you are flying. It is a feeling that is hard to describe to anyone who has never experienced it. I continued the climb until the plane was over the West end of the field. Then I made a turn to the left of about ninety degrees, and after a few seconds, a forty-five degree turn to the right. This was the normal procedure for leaving the flight pattern around the field. I thought to myself, “So far I haven’t done anything wrong,” so I proceeded to fly toward the practice area, about ten miles East. The closer I got to the practice area the more I thought that I really didn’t want to do any real practice, and after a few nanoseconds of debate with myself I decided it would be a good day to fly to St. Maries to look it over from the air. I had only seen the air view a couple times although I had lived there all my life. Without any more hesitation I turned east toward my new destination by using I.F.R. navigation, which is “I Follow Roads”. With the canopy rolled back so I could feel the wind going by, I settled back and enjoyed to scenery. It wasn’t long until Lake Coeur d alene appeared in the distance and then the beautiful St. Joe river valley. When I arrived over the town my altitude was about five thousand feet. I started a circling decent so as to get lower in order to get a better view of the city. Since I have only been over St. Maries a couple times it took me some time to get familiar with the landmarks. When I finally got down low enough that I could make out details I was on the east end of town near where I used to live. Then I spotted it: the tall evergreen tree in my mother’s back yard. In my imagination the PT 26 became a sleek North American P-51 Mustang with four 50-caliber machine guns in the wings. I started a run on the tree, blasted it with a 5 second burst, and the top ten feet started to fall to the ground. This was the tree that had captured many of my models when I was growing up. I made a sharp bank to the left and came around just in time to see the top hit the ground. So much for my imagination, I was still flying a PT26, and the tree was in good shape, but the altitude was quite low and I decided that I had better climb. My friend Clayton Boyce lived on the South side of the valley next to the St. Joe River. I decided to follow the river over to where he lived. It flowed in a large “S” pattern as it meandered through the Valley. When I arrived over his house he was standing out in the yard and waving. He must have heard the sound of an airplane approaching and ran out to find out if he could see it. He was as crazy about planes as I was, so we always ran outside whenever we heard one. Which wasn’t very often. After circling around a couple times, I thought it would be a good idea if I gave the local airport a little “Buzz Job”. I didn’t think there would be anyone there so it wouldn’t hurt a thing. I didn’t know that St. Maries had become air minded and some of the local fellows had started a club and bought an airplane. However I didn’t see any plane on the field. I just made a low pass and started back to Felts Field. The flight back was mostly uneventful after I finally got my bearings and on the correct course. Remember, I was not very familiar with the area from the air and I was going the reverse direction. Well, I finally got back to the Spokane valley and recognized the field. My landing was not too bad; at least it suited me. The next thing I remember was signing the plane back in at the Flight Office and my instructor telling me that an official from the Civil Aeronautics Office wanted to talk with me about buzzing the town of St. Maries. He wanted to know if it was true. I immediately denied that I had been buzzing, but that I had been to St. Maries and flew around it for a while. Anyway he said I had better go up to the CAA office and explain myself. While I was walking over to the office, I noticed an Aeronca 7AC tied down. It had lettering on the vertical fin that said “The Belle of St. Maries”. I didn’t think too much of it at the time because I was wondering what was going to happen with the CAA. I knocked on the office door and a voice inside said, “Come on in” so I went in and introduced myself. The name of the person who greeted me is beyond my memory, but he came right to the business on hand and said, “We have a report that you were over St. Maries this morning and that you were flying below minimum standards.” I replied, “Yes, I was flying around St. Maries and I might have been a little below minimum standards, but I was never so low that I couldn’t glide away from the town if the engine had quit” “You are familiar with the performance of a PT 26?” “I don’t have it memorized but I do know about what they will do. It isn’t the best in the world.” As near as I can remember now, the agent told me that since I was flying below minimum standards, he would have to file a violation against me and that I would hear from them in the near future. He also warned me to not make it a habit. I guess I would call it a, “slap on the hands”. While walking back to the flight office, it dawned on me what the “The Belle of St. Maries” was doing at Felts Field and how the CAA got word of my flight so quickly. A few days later my mail contained a letter from the CAA and there was a notice that I had been fined $15.00 for the flight to St. Maries and a violation had been entered into my record. At that time $15.00 was a large part of my available cash so it wasn’t a soft blow. But the Fying School never called me about it and my training went on like nothing had happened. As I reminisce about that day, I know something exciting happened, but I can't decide what part of the day it was.