Tad Houlihan
This story is an account of events in the life of a furloughed nonscheduled airline pilot who felt compelled to buy a DC-3 in a desperate attempt to create job security, and thereby save his rocky marriage. It is unique, primarily, in how a machine, this DC-3 airplane, became so deeply engrained within the daily lives of people it touched. It is a tale in tribute to the flawless performance and reliability of a magnificent machine and how it raised havoc for America’s government subsidized airline industry, who through dirty politics managed to force the government to rewrite air rules dealing the death blow to a colorful era in American aviation.
Born and raised in a small town in northern California’s Sierra Nevada mountains, his flying career started during WW2 when at the age of 19 he became a B-17 Flying Fortress pilot. After the war he flew DC-3’s for nonscheduled airlines until recalled to active duty in the Air Force to fly C-54’s on the Berlin Airlift. Korean War duty followed with a tour in Combat Cargo Command piloting C-47, C-54, and C-124 aircraft. From 1953 until 1990 he flew for domestic and international airlines, finishing his commercial piloting career as personal pilot to the president of a major U.S. corporation. He and his wife Genevieve reside in America’s Pacific Northwest.
- FOREWORD -
This story is about a “highly experienced” (elderly) airplane that saved a marriage, raised havoc within the scheduled airline industry, forced the US Federal Aviation Administration to rewrite commercial air carrier rules, fatally compromised relations with a US Coast Guard Admiral, gave south east Alaska to the Californians, and awaits it’s next mission to effectively rock the boat in the status quo of Americas’ air transportation system.
Capt. Tad Houlihan
The wonderful old Gooney Bird (the Douglas DC-3 airplane) has played a major roll in filling my life with adventure and knowledge while also providing financial security for my family. Every time that I found myself out of a job throughout those fretful years of flying for the non-scheduled airlines, (a capricious industry if ever there was one,) the Gooney Bird came through to save my bacon.
Early on in my aviation career I learned that furloughs and airline failures were all a part of the game. I also knew that, no matter what, I was in aviation to stay. Consequently, after several years of furloughs, company failures, and pressure from the home front to get out of airline flying and find a way to earn a legitimate living, or face divorce, I cashed in my WW II war bonds, cleaned out our bank account, borrowed a thousand bucks apiece from two buddies who were still employed, at Trans Ocean Airline, then the largest non-sched, and set off to do the unthinkable.
Back then, the unwritten rule was that when a fellow airman needed help, you gave whatever you could because sooner than later you would also get in a bind. Commercial aviation has always been a high risk business, especially so in consideration of the financial aspects.
With the $25,000 in cash, that I now had in my hands, I bought one of the five DC-3s Mohawk Airlines was selling, as they were upgrading to the larger and pressurized cabin Convair 240 equipment. We loaded the spare parts the purchase deal included, plus a lot of other goodies they added, I suppose, from sheer generosity or possibly, to help get rid of inventory that was taking up valuable storage space. Then, on top of all this, they decided to sell me a spare engine, zero time since overhaul, and a spare wheel/tire /brake and axle assembly for $20.00 It was $10.00 for the engine and $10.00 for the wheel etc. assembly. I was overwhelmed. Those Mohawk Airline folks were some of the kinds of people responsible for building the aviation industry, giving back more than they took from it. Nowadays it is the other way around, as I see it. The good and truly golden brotherhood of airmen is long gone, sadly I must say. However, what I want to pass along are some stories about my DC-3 adventures over the past 55+ years that they have been part of my life. I realize how fortunate I have been to have gotten so much from life from this wonderful machine that we, the pilots who flew her, lovingly refer to as; “The Grand Old Gooney Bird.”
These episodes will not necessarily be in chronological order, but as I recall them and by whatever whim happens to trigger those 79 year old little gray cells, those in my ‘Gooney Bird’ memory bank.
After a grand send-off from Mohawk’s Utica, NY base and arriving San Fran, with our newly acquired DC-3, I was not met by my wife with open arms. The only kind of grand welcome home committee to meet my arrival was that of a total stranger, and one would not exactly put him in the category of grand, either. The guy greeted me in a tone of voice I would describe as quite unpleasant, maybe even downright nasty: “Are you Tad Houlihan?”
