September 2003 151
IN 1938 ALBERT J. Ward paid $2 for a used
GHQ engine. He installed it in a Flying
Quaker, where it served as an excellent nose
weight. (The GHQ was a low-priced engine
whose main feature was that it would not run.
A safe product, there was virtually no chance
of sticking your fingers in a spinning
propeller.)
Thanks to this marvel of engineering,
young Mr. Ward’s first Quaker never left the
ground. However, 57 years later his second
one did, powered by—you guessed it—a
GHQ. This one initially used four-stroke glow
power, but Albert said it was “more fun with
the GHQ.” (I don’t make ’em up; I just report
’em.)
He found that GHQ at a MECA (Model
Engine Collectors Association) meet and,
using a 6-inch lathe, machined new internal
parts. It runs, but, as he reports, “with just
barely enough power to fly the Quaker in
slow circles.”
A retired maintenance instructor for
United Airlines, Albert is 78 years old. He is a
member of the Society of Antique Modelers
(SAM) Chapter 21, a licensed A&P (Airframe
and Powerplant) mechanic, and he helps
restore full-scale antique aircraft. His goals
are to “live to be 100, have a good supply of
balsa, and keep on building.”
In March I attended the 15th annual
Vintage Stunt Championships, now hosted
by the Cholla Choppers of Tucson,
Arizona, and the Central Arizona Model
Airplane Club. SAM’s engine guru Charlie
Bruce won the award for Most Unusual
model with his rendition of Don Yearout’s
1947 Flying Star: a Control Line design
shaped like a five-pointed star.
On display, although not flown officially,
was a superb model of a Stanzel Tiger Shark
by Bob English of Vacaville, California.
There is a story behind it. According to Bob:
“As a kid in the early 1940s I admired the
Stanzel Shark models advertised in the
magazines. Back then I was building stickand-
tissue models. Most cost ten cents but if
you really wanted to splurge you bought a Joe
Ott kit for a dollar.
“In 1944 my mother came home from a
shopping spree with a Baby Shark kit, but it
was too complicated for my limited skills. I
didn’t even have an engine. The war was on,
and we were lucky to get anything at all.”
(Today Bob is a master craftsman whose
modeling skills are far from limited.) Fast
forward to 1955. Then in the Air Force, he
was stationed at Anderson Air Force Base in
Guam, which happened to have a base hobby
shop. One day a Colonel Beardsley walked in
with a Super V Shark kit under his arm. He
also had an engine—perhaps a Super
Cyclone. His wife had given him the items
years earlier as a birthday present.
Stating that he didn’t know anything about
model airplanes, he asked if the club members
would help him, which is like asking Tiger
Woods if he likes to play golf. They built the
Shark but never flew it. Bob wonders if
someone still has it, perhaps hanging on a
wall somewhere.
Years later Bob met Dale Kirn, who “just
happened to have” some old Stanzel kits for
sale. Using the parts as patterns, he created his
own Shark; it included wooden wheels turned
from cherry wood and coated with clear
epoxy.
Beautifully finished in red-and-black with
gold trim, the model was once displayed at a
West Coast contest where, in Bob’s words,
“You should have seen all those guys
gathered around it; they weren’t paying any
attention at all to all the pretty (modern) Stunt
airplanes.” That’s no surprise; park a vintage
1949 Mercury next to a row of modern
sedans, and see which one draws a crowd.
Based on several letters I’ve received, it
seems that a number of this column’s readers
are newcomers to the hobby. In a pleasantly
surprising turn of events, each stated a desire
to build models “the old-fashioned way.”
Apparently there is growing interest in the
time when craftsmanship was valued and
model airplanes were the product of patience
and dedication rather than shrink-wrapped
containers of prebuilt components. And the
increasing nostalgia theme by other
columnists, one in particular, has not gone
unnoticed.
Some readers have expressed an interest in
stick-and-tissue Free Flight Rubber Scale.
Often overlooked by today’s newcomers, that
niche is among the most rewarding forms of
modeling. Creating successful flying replicas
of full-scale aircraft involves dedication and a
different touch. They must be light, strong,
light, attractive, light, detailed, light, and
trimmed to compensate for their natural
tendency to turn themselves into piles of
scrap. Did I mention that they must be light?
First attempts often leave much to be
desired. Mine was no exception, having been
made in Audubon, New Jersey, at age 9. It
Mike Keville, 31 Franklin Pkwy., Brunswick ME 04011; E-mail: [email protected]
OLD-TIMERS
Craig Cusick with FAI Saturn. It could be
considered Old-Time by many since the
photo was taken more than 40 years ago.
Colonel Beardsley’s Super V Shark at Anderson Air Force Base in Guam in 1955 was
built but not flown by US Air Force club there. Photo courtesy Bob English.
was a Monogram Speedee-Bilt Aeronca
Sedan assembled with an entire tube of
“Formula A,” thus it weighed a bit less than a
bowling ball. Clueless, I used the stubby little
plastic propeller that was more suited to
display than flight, cranked in a bunch of
turns, and let ’er rip. Nose up, of course.
After that came the cold chill and pucker
factor that grips us in moments such as that. It
went straight up and straight down: the
dreaded stall spin in miniature. I was crushed,
but did I quit in disgust? Take up stamp
collecting? Not a chance. The bug had bitten;
a lifer was born, etc.
As time went by, I built every Speedee-
Bilt in the line. I constructed some of them
several times, each one a little nicer than the
last, although I never did achieve the level of
appearance equal to those that won prizes in
Monogram’s annual nationwide display
contests.
Some of the entries were true works of art.
I recall seeing several flawless Spad XIIIs and
a remarkable Monocoupe that earned first
place at our local hobby shop. My pals and I
entered every year. No, we didn’t win a thing.
Compared to the winning entries, ours usually
looked like they’d been assembled by
chimpanzees and painted with a mop.
Nonetheless, we pressed on. Some of us
are still at it, and others dropped out along the
way. If I was a betting man (which I am not,
having once been employed by a Lake Tahoe
casino), I would wager that each of today’s
AMA officers and most people of a certain
age have built their share of Speedee-Bilts.
Today those kits are worth a small fortune.
Four years ago I saw a P-51 on eBay that
went for $125. That’s not a typo: $125 for a
kit that originally sold for 75¢! Because
collectors drive prices up faster than a Patriot
missile, there’s no telling what it might be
worth to some glassy-eyed nostalgia buff
today—including me. To revise the wellknown
Pogo expression, “We have met the
glassy-eyed nostalgia buff and he is us.”
In this issue I am stretching the Old-Timer
(OT) parameter a bit by including a 1960s-era
photo. I realize that this may not sit well with
some readers, but it was more than 40 years
ago, easily qualifying as “Old-Time” to many.
The subject is Craig Cusick and his FAI
(Fédération Aéronautique Internationale) Free
Flight Saturn. The photo is believed to be
from a Team Trials at Taft or Madera,
California. A charter member of the SCAT
(Southern California Aero Team) club formed
in 1958, Craig is retired, lives in Northern
California, and is probably wondering where I
got this photo.
You may recall the photo of the Berkeley
Profile Powerhouse in the May column. The
builder—Bill Schmidt—stated, “These do not
fly.” Several readers took exception to that,
based on their memories of the little design.
Frank Garon of Iselin, New Jersey, lost his
on its first and only flight. It’s an amusing tale
that will ring up certain memories for many
readers, but I’m almost out of space here, so I
will include it next time.
Because this issue will arrive in late July,
there may just be enough time to “plug” the
soon-to-occur annual SAM Champs. The
location will be Claremore, Oklahoma; the
dates are August 24-29.
Without question the largest gathering of
OT Free Flight and Radio Control devotees,
it’s worth a visit even if you don’t plan to fly.
In the unlikely event that you’re not already
aware of the details and would like to attend,
contact Contest Manager Tom Jozwiak at
(817) 277-8768 for more information.
Keep those cards and letters coming; I enjoy
them all. Special thanks to Bill Hannan for the
kind words regarding this column. M
Edition: Model Aviation - 2003/09
Page Numbers: 151,152
Edition: Model Aviation - 2003/09
Page Numbers: 151,152
September 2003 151
IN 1938 ALBERT J. Ward paid $2 for a used
GHQ engine. He installed it in a Flying
Quaker, where it served as an excellent nose
weight. (The GHQ was a low-priced engine
whose main feature was that it would not run.
A safe product, there was virtually no chance
of sticking your fingers in a spinning
propeller.)
Thanks to this marvel of engineering,
young Mr. Ward’s first Quaker never left the
ground. However, 57 years later his second
one did, powered by—you guessed it—a
GHQ. This one initially used four-stroke glow
power, but Albert said it was “more fun with
the GHQ.” (I don’t make ’em up; I just report
’em.)
He found that GHQ at a MECA (Model
Engine Collectors Association) meet and,
using a 6-inch lathe, machined new internal
parts. It runs, but, as he reports, “with just
barely enough power to fly the Quaker in
slow circles.”
A retired maintenance instructor for
United Airlines, Albert is 78 years old. He is a
member of the Society of Antique Modelers
(SAM) Chapter 21, a licensed A&P (Airframe
and Powerplant) mechanic, and he helps
restore full-scale antique aircraft. His goals
are to “live to be 100, have a good supply of
balsa, and keep on building.”
In March I attended the 15th annual
Vintage Stunt Championships, now hosted
by the Cholla Choppers of Tucson,
Arizona, and the Central Arizona Model
Airplane Club. SAM’s engine guru Charlie
Bruce won the award for Most Unusual
model with his rendition of Don Yearout’s
1947 Flying Star: a Control Line design
shaped like a five-pointed star.
On display, although not flown officially,
was a superb model of a Stanzel Tiger Shark
by Bob English of Vacaville, California.
There is a story behind it. According to Bob:
“As a kid in the early 1940s I admired the
Stanzel Shark models advertised in the
magazines. Back then I was building stickand-
tissue models. Most cost ten cents but if
you really wanted to splurge you bought a Joe
Ott kit for a dollar.
“In 1944 my mother came home from a
shopping spree with a Baby Shark kit, but it
was too complicated for my limited skills. I
didn’t even have an engine. The war was on,
and we were lucky to get anything at all.”
(Today Bob is a master craftsman whose
modeling skills are far from limited.) Fast
forward to 1955. Then in the Air Force, he
was stationed at Anderson Air Force Base in
Guam, which happened to have a base hobby
shop. One day a Colonel Beardsley walked in
with a Super V Shark kit under his arm. He
also had an engine—perhaps a Super
Cyclone. His wife had given him the items
years earlier as a birthday present.
Stating that he didn’t know anything about
model airplanes, he asked if the club members
would help him, which is like asking Tiger
Woods if he likes to play golf. They built the
Shark but never flew it. Bob wonders if
someone still has it, perhaps hanging on a
wall somewhere.
Years later Bob met Dale Kirn, who “just
happened to have” some old Stanzel kits for
sale. Using the parts as patterns, he created his
own Shark; it included wooden wheels turned
from cherry wood and coated with clear
epoxy.
Beautifully finished in red-and-black with
gold trim, the model was once displayed at a
West Coast contest where, in Bob’s words,
“You should have seen all those guys
gathered around it; they weren’t paying any
attention at all to all the pretty (modern) Stunt
airplanes.” That’s no surprise; park a vintage
1949 Mercury next to a row of modern
sedans, and see which one draws a crowd.
Based on several letters I’ve received, it
seems that a number of this column’s readers
are newcomers to the hobby. In a pleasantly
surprising turn of events, each stated a desire
to build models “the old-fashioned way.”
Apparently there is growing interest in the
time when craftsmanship was valued and
model airplanes were the product of patience
and dedication rather than shrink-wrapped
containers of prebuilt components. And the
increasing nostalgia theme by other
columnists, one in particular, has not gone
unnoticed.
Some readers have expressed an interest in
stick-and-tissue Free Flight Rubber Scale.
Often overlooked by today’s newcomers, that
niche is among the most rewarding forms of
modeling. Creating successful flying replicas
of full-scale aircraft involves dedication and a
different touch. They must be light, strong,
light, attractive, light, detailed, light, and
trimmed to compensate for their natural
tendency to turn themselves into piles of
scrap. Did I mention that they must be light?
First attempts often leave much to be
desired. Mine was no exception, having been
made in Audubon, New Jersey, at age 9. It
Mike Keville, 31 Franklin Pkwy., Brunswick ME 04011; E-mail: [email protected]
OLD-TIMERS
Craig Cusick with FAI Saturn. It could be
considered Old-Time by many since the
photo was taken more than 40 years ago.
Colonel Beardsley’s Super V Shark at Anderson Air Force Base in Guam in 1955 was
built but not flown by US Air Force club there. Photo courtesy Bob English.
was a Monogram Speedee-Bilt Aeronca
Sedan assembled with an entire tube of
“Formula A,” thus it weighed a bit less than a
bowling ball. Clueless, I used the stubby little
plastic propeller that was more suited to
display than flight, cranked in a bunch of
turns, and let ’er rip. Nose up, of course.
After that came the cold chill and pucker
factor that grips us in moments such as that. It
went straight up and straight down: the
dreaded stall spin in miniature. I was crushed,
but did I quit in disgust? Take up stamp
collecting? Not a chance. The bug had bitten;
a lifer was born, etc.
As time went by, I built every Speedee-
Bilt in the line. I constructed some of them
several times, each one a little nicer than the
last, although I never did achieve the level of
appearance equal to those that won prizes in
Monogram’s annual nationwide display
contests.
Some of the entries were true works of art.
I recall seeing several flawless Spad XIIIs and
a remarkable Monocoupe that earned first
place at our local hobby shop. My pals and I
entered every year. No, we didn’t win a thing.
Compared to the winning entries, ours usually
looked like they’d been assembled by
chimpanzees and painted with a mop.
Nonetheless, we pressed on. Some of us
are still at it, and others dropped out along the
way. If I was a betting man (which I am not,
having once been employed by a Lake Tahoe
casino), I would wager that each of today’s
AMA officers and most people of a certain
age have built their share of Speedee-Bilts.
Today those kits are worth a small fortune.
Four years ago I saw a P-51 on eBay that
went for $125. That’s not a typo: $125 for a
kit that originally sold for 75¢! Because
collectors drive prices up faster than a Patriot
missile, there’s no telling what it might be
worth to some glassy-eyed nostalgia buff
today—including me. To revise the wellknown
Pogo expression, “We have met the
glassy-eyed nostalgia buff and he is us.”
In this issue I am stretching the Old-Timer
(OT) parameter a bit by including a 1960s-era
photo. I realize that this may not sit well with
some readers, but it was more than 40 years
ago, easily qualifying as “Old-Time” to many.
The subject is Craig Cusick and his FAI
(Fédération Aéronautique Internationale) Free
Flight Saturn. The photo is believed to be
from a Team Trials at Taft or Madera,
California. A charter member of the SCAT
(Southern California Aero Team) club formed
in 1958, Craig is retired, lives in Northern
California, and is probably wondering where I
got this photo.
You may recall the photo of the Berkeley
Profile Powerhouse in the May column. The
builder—Bill Schmidt—stated, “These do not
fly.” Several readers took exception to that,
based on their memories of the little design.
Frank Garon of Iselin, New Jersey, lost his
on its first and only flight. It’s an amusing tale
that will ring up certain memories for many
readers, but I’m almost out of space here, so I
will include it next time.
Because this issue will arrive in late July,
there may just be enough time to “plug” the
soon-to-occur annual SAM Champs. The
location will be Claremore, Oklahoma; the
dates are August 24-29.
Without question the largest gathering of
OT Free Flight and Radio Control devotees,
it’s worth a visit even if you don’t plan to fly.
In the unlikely event that you’re not already
aware of the details and would like to attend,
contact Contest Manager Tom Jozwiak at
(817) 277-8768 for more information.
Keep those cards and letters coming; I enjoy
them all. Special thanks to Bill Hannan for the
kind words regarding this column. M
