Fly the Friendly Skies of the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome

Flying is learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.  
        Douglas Adams

Years ago I had the opportunity to attend the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome.  The airshow, the announcers, the actors, and airplanes were entertaining.  Magnificent even, I loved watching my son’s face light up as he took everything in.  And then I remember one particular portion of the outing that tested my parenting prowess.  I will simply share that slapstick comedy is not an art form for the young of age as much as it might be for the young of heart. And nothing could prepare me for the look on my son’s face when Trudy Truelove, the delightful damsel of the airshow act was seemingly thrown from the plane in a slapstick skit.  She landed hard, lifeless. My son’s heart fell heavy, his eyes growing bigger, as he was searching and looking to me for some explanation.   He could not understand why the crowd was laughing.  Maybe I was more traumatized than he was, I had a really hard time explaining that she was “fake”.  We did both watch her walk onto the plane…and an even harder time explaining why it was funny.   It was the first of many more opportunities for me to be faced with not being able to protect my children from the evils of the world, or from other unexpected tragedies of flight. He was 4 at the time of our visit to the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome and raised close by in this sheltered bucolic Hudson Valley community where families still leave their doors unlocked and their true-loves safe from reckless abandonment, or at least heartless heaving from low flying aircrafts.  (It’s true, I’m really working this tale, stretching it for all it’s worth….)

I told this story recently when I met Tom Polapink, a long-time volunteer for the Rhinebeck Aerodrome, as I tried to cover for myself when asked if I had been to visit.  It is his passion, this spectacular place with it’s impressive and rare collection of aircraft form the Pioneer Era, The Golden Age of Flight, World War I and the Lindbergh/Barnstorming era.  I did have to give pause as to why I had not been back.  And then I recalled another visit with another tale to stretch a tad.

I had been there on one other occasion in the past 15 years.  I brought a small middle school group of 14 and 15 year old boys, otherwise known as “at-risk” with varying degrees of let’s just say, “behavioral challenges” and heightened degrees of teen enhanced testosterone.  During that particular outing I was more concerned with keeping my students from lifting and throwing an airplane at another defenseless woman, mainly myself, than I was at protecting them from finding Trudy’s remains.  The trip was brief, arranged as a favor by a colleague of mine as we attempted to provide enriched activities, or breaks from the otherwise enhanced agitation of school confinement for the emotionally enhanced.  Our goal for this trip was to leave a minimum of destruction in our wake.  (Don’t even ask about the pigeon catching incident  on our trip to the Museum of Natural History…).  Unfortunately, it was difficult to attend to the rare collection of original and reproduction planes that fill 4 buildings, or the impressive fleet of early automobiles, engines, wings and model airplanes found throughout.  I was impressed, but I wasn’t able to adequately take in the extraordinary and rare collection so close to home on either visit.

Maybe my tale of trauma pulled on the heartstrings of Mr. Polapink.  I was recently offered a personal tour, redemption perhaps? Or maybe he jumps at any opportunity to share his passion for these flying machines.  In any event I jumped at the invite.  It was greatly appreciated.  I especially enjoyed getting a close look at the vintage Indian motorcycles.  Family legend holds my grandmother rode with her brothers and their friends, doing stunts on the back of an Indian much like the ones on display.  As far as airplanes go, there were a few that caught my eye. The Nicholas Beazley NB-8G and the Monocoup 90 were my personal faves, at least from an aesthetic point of view, which is about all I can offer regarding favoring one over the other.  (Sort of like choosing a sports team based on the colors of their jerseys.)  The Curtiss Wright Junior CW-1 with it’s brightly colored body and it’s futurism inspired design, (think early Kitchenaid blender meets George Jetson pre-space flight), was pretty snazzy too and fantastically futurama inspired.

indian motorcycle . monocoupe . my grandmother florence abernethy

In addition to getting an up-close look at the many planes in the collection, I was especially impressed with the multi-generational group of volunteers out on a cold November work day.  There was such a strong sense of community amongst the extended make-shift family, all together in this place sharing a common interest.   The diverse ages of volunteers struck me immediately.  There are so few opportunities for young and old to work together and learn from each other while having fun.  Spending a small part of my day with these dedicated folk, I was awestruck by their kindness and commitment to this place so close to my home but rarely travelled.

Work was being done on several projects on the grounds as well as on the airplanes.  Cement footings were being set for the new sign that will welcome visitors for the 2015 season and beyond.  A propeller was being glazed, the body of a plane was in some stage of re-construction. Small groups were working to transport planes and vehicles across the grounds for winter storage.  I was most amazed at the work being done on a reproduction of The Spirit of St Louis.  Seeing this work gave me such appreciation for the need for the preservation of these historical artifacts.  To be able to see the great exoskeleton of this aircraft; the man-made wings, with fabric skins wrapped tightly around them, the inner workings of the control panels was thrilling.  Seeing other aircraft in varying stages of completion, including the bare bones cockpits, the struts and wire braces, the wings, and engines gave me a small glimpse of the ingenuity and brilliance that inspired and motivated those early pioneers who worked passionately and obsessively to make flight possible.  Something we take for granted now.

That son of mine grew up, the story from his early childhood is not remembered so clearly (trauma has that way of protecting you).  A few years ago while visiting New Orleans, he and I visited the World War II Museum.  He is interested in history, machines, and tales of heroism.  And while it would not have been a stop on my travel itinerary, seeing collections related to our national history first hand, gave me a very different perspective on the past. These preserved artifacts make history accessible and more meaningful.  Seeing the airplanes that came before World War II in Rhinebeck, I was able to the learn more about the story of flight in it’s earliest initiation through various stages of development.  Flight as a means for pleasure, thrill, and joy.  That same spirit was evident in the people that I met dedicated to preserving history at the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome.

The collection at the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome is one of the largest collections of early aeroplanes, and it is very accessible and worth the visit!   I am looking forward to stopping by in the 2015 season, open May - October.  Feel free to visit the website and plan your own visit, shop the gift-shop, become a member even!  http://www.oldrhinebeck.org/