Almost 20 years ago, a co-worker bought a cottage south of Seattle. He found a batch of airplane parts in the basement—just the wings and a few other pieces, but no fuselage and no identifying marks. Mike Furlong, another co-worker, drove us there in his truck to pick up the parts.
I spent a while on research. The wings themselves were pretty generic, but the other parts—like the cowling, wheel pants, instrument panel, and windshield—were distinctive.
I eventually identified them as coming from a Warwick Bantam, an early homebuilt from the ’60s. Only a few were built. Further, I found a photo taken by Pete Bowers that showed the Bantam that my wings probably came from. I wrote an article and did an EAA presentation on my find. You can find it in the EAA archives, “EAA Detective” in the April 2006 issue.
The wings had been in my hangar ever since, awaiting the day I might find someone who needed them. I could have turned them in for recycling and made a couple of bucks, but just didn’t want to do that. I kept trying to find a home for those darn wings.
I found one man in California who had a Bantam fuselage and wanted wings for it … he was building a playground airplane for his kids. I had no objection, but he never made it to Seattle to pick them up.
I know an aviation-themed restaurant owner, and we agreed the Bantam wings would make a perfect canopy over his bar. But—again, he was in South Texas with no way to get the wings there.
I got rid of the little parts like the windshield and wheel pants, but kept the wings, hoping against hope.
Then things started happening.
Out of the Blue
Then I got a strange email.
David Duganne happened to be viewing a new video posted on YouTube by Ben Weeks, who specializes in recovering old, neglected Beech Bonanzas. Ben and his brother had driven from Missouri to the Seattle area with a trailer to break down and transport an abandoned 1947 Bonanza. Ben’s video had panned through the hangar in Bremerton, Washington …
… and David noticed the fuselage of a little yellow airplane tucked in the back.
Duganne, a self-described airplane nerd, not only identified the fuselage as that of a Warwick Bantam—but remembered the article I’d written in Sport Aviation 19 years earlier!
Incredible.
Reunited
David shot me an email immediately, Saturday afternoon at 1:15 p.m. I agreed it was not only a Bantam, but the Bantam that my wings had come from (same shade of yellow). My wings had been just 25 miles (as the Bantam flies) from the fuselage. The cottage where I’d found the wings had been just a few miles from Bremerton Airport.
I found Ben’s Facebook page (“Ben Weeks, Bonanza Pilot“) and sent him an instant message telling him I had the wings and he was welcome to pick them up on his drive home.
He responded a half-hour later. He and his brother Stanley were just finishing packing up the Bonanza (and the Bantam fuselage), and would be starting the 36-hour drive back to Missouri that evening.
Less than 4 hours later, Ben and I stood in front of the Bantam and Bonanza at my house, ready to go down to my hangar to pick up the wings. Ben was holding the instrument panel from the Bantam, which had been in my garage for the past 17 years.
And … less than an hour later, Ben and Stanley had the Bantam wings tucked under the Bonanza’s nose, and were heading through Snoqualmie Pass toward Spokane.
(Photo: Stanley Weeks)
The Future
What’s in store for the Bantam? Ben’s not sure. He’s a Bonanza guy, not familiar with small homebuilts like the Bantam.
He’ll hopefully find a home of some sort, maybe with an interested restorer or as a playground toy. It’s got an engine, but there is no telling what condition it is in. Maybe he’ll reluctantly have to scrap it anyway. But at least it’ll go as a (nearly) intact airplane, and not spread out across the country.
What a great story of the value of archival storage, or as my wife puts it, “hoarding junk”. As the proud owner of four freight containers full of potential treasures, I can state that there are few sources of satisfaction that rise to the level of finding just what I need in them. It saves time, money, landfill space, environment, etc.
Just yesterday, we were replacing the deteriorated insulation and tarp covering our camper. I was planning to hit the local toy-store for new insulation when I thought to check my containers. Sure enough, after our first winter in our modest house thirty years ago, I pulled out all the ceiling and floor insulation and replaced it with new. The old batts went into my only container at that time, Just In Case …
I know my experience isn’t nearly the exquisite example of serendipity that yours displays, but I daresay it happens far more frequently. OTOH, if you were willing to take a few liberties with the truth, you could craft that episode into an O. Henry short-story. 😉
“One man’s junk is another man’s gold”. As I keep telling my wife, “no dear, it’s not junk” and has saved the day (mundanely) quite often. The other side of this equation is repurposing items or modifying them (sometimes in a haphazard fashion) to possibly address a need without the worry or cost of damaging some expensive part. Lastly, this exercise gives focus on those windy, rainy days to sort through “the pile” and dredge up old memories.
One can only hope it is in good enough shape for it, and gets finished and flown some day. Even if it takes another 17 years. Here’s to hanging on to old stuff that one day might be useful