In the 1950’s, driven by a proposal of President Dwight Eisenhower, the Interstate Highway system was planned and eventually has become a network of roadways that now serve as the main arteries covering the United States. Before the current system of multi-lane highways were constructed, there were many historical roadways and national highways that served this nation well and are fondly remembered. The first National Highway, US Route 40, and US Route 66 are prime examples of these concrete ribbons that went east and west across this expansive country. Some of these roadways have lost their identity and been absorbed into the Interstate system. However, most of the early highways that connect the towns and cities and rural areas continue to exist, and remain essential to our well being.
One of those early historical highways is US Route 50, which traverses through the breadth of West Virginia, covering the route east and west from Winchester, VA to Parkersburg, WV. For those not spoiled by interstate highway speeds, or deterred by an abundance of climbing and descending hills and multiple curves, some of a back-scratcher nature, US Route 50 can be viewed as a scenic and pleasant routing. Among the many small towns joined by this route is the small village of Burlington, WV, lying in one of the few flat valleys in the wild mountain state of West Virginia. It was in this small village that David S. Baker was born in 1904. He remained in the area until 1926, when he was accepted for flight training with the U.S. Army Air Service at Brooks Field, San Antonio, Texas. He soloed in the Consolidated PT-1, powered by a Wright-Hispano water cooled engine rated at 180 horsepower. After successfully completing the training program he was awarded his pilot wings and rating as a flying Sergeant. He then left the service and went on to pursue other ventures. One of these took him to Detroit where he served as service manager at the Ford Motor Company Rotunda. During World War II he served as an instructor at a training school for Army liaison pilots.
With this aviation background, Dave returned to Burlington and decided to go into the flying business. So it was that in the early 1940’s, he established his aeronautical endeavor, named Baker’s Flying Service. He chose as the location a field that paralleled US Route 50 on the south side and the meandering Patterson Creek on the east. The site of this long lost airfield is now occupied by a large complex encompassing a sectional base for the West Virginia Department of Highways. From the Greater Cumberland Regional Airport the location is approximately 21 statute miles on a heading of 202 degrees. The smooth grass runway was somewhat optimistically listed as 2400 feet in length. A flight approach from the east was fairly good, but was hampered on the west end by the Old Homestead Hotel, a large two storied brick building. With this obstacle, most takeoffs were made to the east with landings to the west. The original hangar was a small wood structure with another very small building serving as an office.
By mid-summer of 1946 these had been replaced by a 40′ by 80′ Quonset metal hangar and a smaller Quonset for the office. Fuel tanks were installed between the two buildings, one providing aviation fuel, and two others to service the automobile traffic along the well traveled US Route 50. At this time, Dave renamed his facility Baker’s Air Park.
Dave’s flight operation began with an Aeronca 7AC (originally an L-3 military aircraft) and a Piper J-3. He acquired a dealership for Aeronca aircraft and soon had three Model 7AC “Champion” aircraft on the flight line. Baker also possessed a Fairchild KR-34 biplane used primarily for hopping passengers on short sight-seeing flights. He received a government contract to provide flight training for veterans under the popular program known as the “GI Bill”. This program got off to a slow start, but began picking up in 1946 so that Dave needed assistance. In September, Harold Armstrong, a World War II Air Force pilot, was hired as a flight instructor. With varied and interesting duties, Harold flew with students, helped maintain aircraft, sold fuel, mowed grass, manned the office, hopped passengers, and did anything else that was required to keep the operation going. The student list averaged around 40, and all were encouraged to fly at least once a week. Most were trained for a Private Pilot certificate, but two received advanced Commercial certificates, and one eventually became a flight instructor. A few lost interest and dropped out for a variety of reasons. The large majority completed the course, with some continuing to fly after the government funding ceased.
Harold owned a 1929 Swallow TP in which he had learned to fly in 1940, and he brought it to Burlington. However, he was kept quite busy with the air park operation, and since the hangar was full, the Swallow had to be tied down outside. The fabric covering was getting old, and with winter approaching, he reluctantly sold it in October 1946. Soon thereafter the open cockpit Fairchild was also sold by Baker and replaced by a 1932 Waco UEC. This was a comfortable four passenger cabin aircraft with excellent short field capability. It served well as a passenger hopper, and Harold also made a few charter trips with it. In late August 1947, he flew it to Cleveland, Ohio, to attend the National Air Races. At the time, he was boarding at the Old Homestead Hotel, adjacent to the runway, owned and operated by Nina Thrush. Her daughter, Martha, was one of the four passengers on this trip, and later became Harold’s wife.
Baker’s Air Park was the site of several interesting incidents. Early one frosty morning, a solo student taxied out in one of the Aeroncas, and as he reached the departure end of the runway, the engine quit. With no electrical system, the Continental engine had to be started by hand. The pilot got out and placed a seat cushion in front of one wheel, then pulled the propeller through to get it restarted. Unfortunately, the throttle was open too far, and when the engine started the aircraft abruptly ran over the cushion and got away from the student pilot, stopping only after colliding with a power pole at the edge of the field. The impact crushed the leading edge of one wing and broke the front spar. The office secretary, who was also a pilot trainee, came out to offer her assistance, only to get in the way of the tail surface in its wayward travel. The impact caused additional damage to the rear fuselage structure. The aircraft was soon repaired and returned to service with the fleet.
One Sunday in May 1947, Harold and Martha, along with his brother Jim and wife Catherine, took off for Morgantown in the Waco UEC to attend a fly-in breakfast. Shortly after getting out over the mountains, the engine swallowed a valve and began throwing out oil. They immediately reversed course and headed back to Burlington. Approaching Keyser, because of the rapid loss of oil, Harold decided it would be better to land there. With an oil covered windshield, it was necessary to lower the side window so that he could see enough to make the landing. As they landed and rolled out, the oil pressure dropped to zero.
In August 1950, Dave purchased a 1935 Waco CUC-2. Powered by a Wright engine of 350 horsepower, it was larger and heavier than the UEC, with seating capacity for five. Although it cruised at a higher speed, it offered little advantage when hauling a load out of a short strip. Also, its fuel consumption was much higher.
This Waco was being flown by Herb Wentz in the fall of 1951 when a landing mishap occurred. During the landing roll, it swerved to the right and tilted over onto the left wing, resulting in moderate damage to the wing structure.
Dave on one occasion was flying with a student who was deemed ready to make his first solo flight. Dave got out and said, “Take it around the field,” granting the student pilot clearance to fly around the pattern and land. The student promptly departed the field and was gone for what Dave considered an eternity. Finally, well after an hour had elapsed, he came in and successfully landed. When Dave asked, “Where in the hell have you been?”, the student’s response was, “Well, you told me to take it around the field, so I’ve been flying around enjoying the scenery.”
The air park was a popular stop for the weekend pilot looking for a place to fly into for breakfast or lunch. A group of pilots from the Washington, DC, area frequently flew in and spent the weekend at Burlington. The early arrivals would taxi across the road and park their aircraft on the lawn of the Old Homestead, while others parked along the runway. They started arriving on Friday and usually remained until Sunday afternoon. Fly-in breakfasts were frequently scheduled by Dave, and originally he would pick up the tab for all, perhaps hoping to sell a bit more fuel that way. This soon got to be expensive and was discontinued. One weekend a gentleman from Cumberland arrived in a Vultee BT-13, a war surplus basic trainer with a Pratt and Whitney 450 horsepower radial engine. He approached in a quite steep right turn to the runway, with excessive speed. By the time he had slowed the aircraft enough for landing, there was only about 500 feet of runway left. He stomped on the brakes, locking up the wheels, and slid to a stop as the aircraft rotated 90 degrees to the right. When the dust settled, the big bird was sitting with one wheel in a ditch and the left wing extending out over the country road which ran by the Old Homestead. Observing this display of extremely poor airmanship, Dave’s comment was unprintable.
Charley Weese and Forrest Miller, from the Keyser, WV area, owned a Piper J-2 Cub, powered by a Continental engine of 40 horsepower. One day Charley got into a discussion with some of the local pilots about short field landings. This eventually led him to claim that he could land the J-2 crosswise of the airstrip. Of course nobody believed this to be possible; there simply was not enough room. Charley had painted himself into a corner, and he either had to back off or give it a try. He chose the latter course. He took off, made a couple of practice approaches, and then came in low over the trees to the north of the field. Steepening his approach with a violent slip, he landed with very little space remaining. The J-2 had no brakes, so some of the bystanders grabbed the wings to get it stopped before going out into US 50!
Other military type aircraft had landed at the air park without incident. Leo Patterson brought a Grumman F-4 “Hellcat” in one day. Harold Armstrong landed both the Vultee BT-13 and North American AT-6 there, and Herb Wentz of Keyser Air Service landed in a Cessna T-50. The largest aircraft to visit the air park was a corporate owned Beechcraft D-18, a seven passenger aircraft powered by two 450 horsepower Pratt & Whitneys.
There was always a variety of aircraft based at the air park or flown in by visiting pilots. On any good weekend one might see several Aeroncas and Pipers, or various Cessnas and Taylorcraft, in addition to others such as the Fairchild PT-26, Globe Swift, Porterfield, Luscombe, Ercoupe, Stinson, and Waco. Two more very unusual types were also based at Baker’s Air Park; a Miles Sparrowhawk and a Messerschmitt BF-108 Taifun. The Sparrowhawk was a smaller version of the well known British Miles Hawk. Only one or two were built, and this one had participated in the “King’s Cup” Trophy race in the 1930’s. Powered by a de Havilland Gipsy Major engine of 130 horsepower, it had excellent handling characteristics and was quite fast. Owned by Carl Conrad of Romney, WV, it was occasionally flown in aerobatic demonstrations by Harold or by his younger brother James, who had flown P-40 and P-47 fighters during the latter part of World War II. Rather than a conventional lap belt, this aircraft was equipped with a four point harness, so that when flying inverted, the pilot’s weight was supported primarily by the shoulder harness. During an air show at the dedication of the new airport at Berkeley Springs, WV, the air was extremely rough, and in performing aerobatics in the Sparrowhawk, Harold wound up with sore shoulders and neck, due to the unique harness.
The Sparrowhawk was also used for practical applications. In 1947, there was a problem with the engine in the Waco UEC. The needed parts were located in Springfield, MA, and it was decided that Harold would go in the Sparrowhawk to pick them up. He proceeded to Springfield, then to Lancaster, PA, to check on a propeller being repaired, and returned to Burlington with the parts, flying less than seven hours in the journey.
The Sparrowhawk was eventually repurchased by Perry Boswell, who had earlier sold it to Conrad. It was then taken to Florida and based near Miami. It was later reported to have crashed while being flown by another pilot. The aircraft was destroyed and the pilot received fatal injuries.
Dave’s nephew, Leo D. Patterson, entered the Navy in 1940, earned his wings at Pensacola, and was assigned to fly Curtiss SOC Seagulls from cruisers for scouting and observation duty in the Mediterranean sea. On 11 September 1943, he was serving aboard the USS Savannah CL-42 in the Gulf of Salerno when his ship received a direct hit from a guided bomb and was severely damaged. The ship proceeded to Malta under its own power for temporary repairs and eventual return to the States. The entire aviation unit was transferred to a French seaplane base in Tunisia at the site of the ancient city of Carthage, and operated from a lake while under British command.
There was much damaged and abandoned German equipment in this area, and Lieutenant Patterson and some of his shipmates “liberated” a Messerschmitt BF-108, repaired the battle damage, and got it flying. (The 108 closely resembles the better known BF-109; however, it was a four passenger utility aircraft powered by an Argus inverted air-cooled V-8 engine of 240 horsepower). Leo made several flights around the area, fell in love with the aircraft, and began thinking of the possibility of bringing it to the United States. All captured military equipment was under the control of the Intelligence Division of the 12th Air Force. Twelfth AF granted a release for the aircraft, recommending that it be turned over to Cruiser Scouting Squadron No. 8, USS Savannah. The following is an account of what then transpired, as related by Lt Cdr Leo Patterson:
“I began thinking of bringing this plane back to the US, but before I could take any action on this, I got a note from the Captain of the Savannah (still in Malta) saying, ‘See me about this airplane of yours.’ He (much to my surprise) told me that, since our aircraft would be transferred to other ships and left in the Mediterranean, Savannah’s aircraft hangar would be empty on the trip home. If I wanted to bring the ME-108 aboard, I should have it on the dock at Bizerte on 9 December 1943. I flew the plane to Bizerte and some shipmates brought a truckload of spare parts in a German truck they had repaired. I had two good spare engines, a pair of spare wings and many other spare parts, all of which were loaded aboard. We arrived at the Philadelphia Navy Yard on 23 December 1943. From there I was transferred for temporary duty to the Naval Air Station, Floyd Bennet Field in New York. I went on leave in January 1944 and was in West Virginia when I received an order to return to Philadelphia because the ME-108 would be obstructing repairs to the Savannah. Now came the difficult question which I had been facing. What do you do with an enemy aircraft (not a combat type) in wartime if it is in the way and NOBODY will give it any space or consideration. I had to get it out of the way but had no authority even to move it off the base! It wasn’t easy, but in the nick of time, I found some authorities who helped me take possession and get permission to remove it. My uncle, who operated a small airfield, brought a truck to Philadelphia and took the BF-108 and all the spare parts to his airstrip in West Virginia.”
Following the war, Dave and Leo managed to obtain civil registration and airworthiness certification (Experimental category) for the BF-108, and Leo began flying it occasionally. However, Leo soon returned to active duty, and during the next few years it was flown by Harold Armstrong, with Lowell Huffman assisting with the maintenance. It was taken to a number of air shows at Morgantown, Pittsburgh, Cumberland, and Baltimore (at the former Harbor Field). Harold flew it to East Liverpool, Ohio, for the dedication of their new airport, accompanied by brother Jim flying the Sparrowhawk.
On 6 April 1948, some work had been done on the 108’s engine, including replacing one of the carburetors. A flight test was performed by Harold and the engine performed flawlessly. Later in the day, he took it up again for a formation flight with the Sparrowhawk. Just after clearing the field boundary, with the landing gear halfway retracted, the engine failed. He managed to fly under a power line and land in a wheat field on the Ike Whipp farm. The belly landing resulted in a broken propeller and damage to the flaps. The cause was found to be a pinhole leak in the float of the newly replaced carburetor. The engine was again worked on, the propeller and flaps replaced, and it was soon flying again.
In early August 1949, Dave was approached by Ed Leatherman, owner of Chert Mountain Orchards, concerning a charter trip to Peoria, Illinois, in the Waco. He was in urgent need of a hydraulic control unit for one of his Caterpillar tractors. Dave replied that the Messerschmitt was a lot faster, so why not take it, with Harold Armstrong as the pilot? The unit weighed several hundred pounds, so the rear seat was removed and preparations made to secure it to the floor. Everything was going well until nearing Greenville, Ohio, when the engine began losing power. Upon landing at Greenville and checking the engine, it ran normally, and so after refueling, Ed and Harold proceeded westward. After spending the night at Peoria and loading the part, they headed home. Again, the engine acted up and another unscheduled stop was made at Greenville! By now, Harold had decided that the problem was most likely caused by deterioration of the flexible lines which connected the five tanks, since the problem occurred only when the tanks were less than half full. A precautionary fuel stop was made at Zanesville, Ohio, in order to start across the mountains with full tanks. The mission was finally concluded in 10 hours of flight time.
The BF-108 was eventually sold to Bill Waller, a local pilot who had trained at the air park. Bill was sitting outside the office one day with the 108 on the ramp. A big car drove up and parked. The family got out and several of the small children ran over to the 108 and started climbing on it. Bill watched for a few minutes without saying a word. Finally he got up, walked over to the man’s car, climbed up on the hood, and sat down. The owner of the car came running over hollering at Bill and asked him, “What the hell are you doing on my car?” Bill looked at him and said, “The same thing your kids are doing to my airplane.” With that, the man gathered up his family and left.
The BF-108 was later resold to Colonel Curt Heidenreich, who was then serving as the German Air Attache in Washington, DC. He had planned to return the aircraft to Germany, but instead it was sold to two parties in Pennsylvania. It was hangared at the Shamokin airport, where much restoration work was done. A new three bladed propeller was installed and it was painted in a rather inappropriate and unattractive camouflage paint scheme. However, there is no evidence that it was ever flown while there. In 1933, it was acquired by Lufthansa Airlines, returned to Germany, and completely “re-manufactured” in their maintenance facility at Frankfurt. Changing the US registration NX54208 to a German identification D-EBEI, the much traveled 108 is again being flown and placed on display in its homeland. Leo and his wife were invited to be there for the roll-out celebration as Lufthansa’s guests. He had also been invited to fly it again, but unfortunately he was unable to do so because of the weather.
A few years after the airfield was established, Dave, along with his brother Phil, built a drive-in theater directly across the highway from the airfield. Initially Phil served as projectionist while Dave sold tickets or helped out in the snack bar. Later on, Harold manned the projection booth. There were generally large crowds on weekends, but attendance on weekdays was sometimes slim.
Dave liked to play practical jokes. One evening several pilots were sitting in the snack bar. His wife Georgia was busy at the grill and taking care of customers. There was a popcorn machine on the counter. Dave filled a bag with popcorn and poked a hole in the side with a pencil. He then inserted a firecracker, placed the bag on the counter, and said to the group, “Watch this.” He touched the fuse with the end of his cigar and walked out the door. The explosion blew popcorn all over the place, and needless to say, Georgia didn’t think it was very funny.
To help provide advertisement for his operation, Dave decided to try towing a banner. An assortment of letters, a tow hitch, and associated equipment was obtained from a company in Tennessee. The hitch was installed on the Waco UEC, the letters were formed into a message, connected together and laid out on the ground in a position where the Waco should be off and flying. A moment later the tow line would be pulling the banner into the air. This system worked but was not very satisfactory and the letters were frequently damaged. So instead of attaching the tow line to the aircraft, it was tied to a loop stretched between two poles. A grapple hook was attached to a short line and to the release hook on the aircraft, and retained in the cabin until after takeoff. This system worked very well and with the extra speed, the aircraft could climb rapidly after picking up the line, while the banner would roll up into the air with no tendency to drag along the ground.
The usual procedure was to tow the banner over Keyser, Westernport, and Piedmont, and occasionally over Romney. On one mission, Harold had made this circuit and was returning to Burlington when the engine blew a cylinder. With a very rough engine and considerable loss of power, he decided he must put it down in the nearest suitable place. Picking a good farm field, he dropped the banner and planned to land in the same place. However, being no longer encumbered by the drag of the banner, and thinking of having to work on the engine there, Harold decided he could make it back to the air park. After arriving safely, Dave said, “My God, you should have heard the racket you were making. We could hear you all the way to Romney.”
Phil Baker was a professional sign painter, operating as the Neet Sign Company near Keyser, WV. He hand painted the large sign on the hangar advertising “AERONCA” airplanes and “BAKER’S AIR PARK.” He also made air park decals and signs to attach to license plates. Phil restored a 1902 Holsman automobile, which had been owned by their father, Dr. Frank Baker. The Holsman was, incidentally, the first automobile ever to be driven in Burlington. This vintage car was kept in the air park hangar for a while. Many years later it was sold to the Holsman family.
Harold had served in the Air Force, initially being trained as an aircraft mechanic. However, he entered Aviation Cadet training in 1942, and upon receiving his wings and commission he became a flight instructor in an Advanced 2-engine training school. He later had the same duty in a B-17 training center, and eventually flew the B-29. Upon leaving active duty in 1945, he retained his commission in the Air Force Reserve. While working at Baker’s Air Park, Harold was assigned to a reserve wing in Pittsburgh, where he was required to serve a few days each month and remain proficient in military aircraft. Initially, these were the North American AT-6 and the Beech AT-7, and C-45. His unit was the 375th Troop Carrier Wing, and was later equipped with the Curtiss C-46 “Commando,” the largest two engine troop and cargo transport in use at the time.
He sometimes drove to Pittsburgh for reserve duty; other times, he flew. On one of these flying trips, in March 1949, a miscalculation of fuel and un-forecasted headwinds led to a forced landing between Piedmont and Keyser, WV. The engine out landing was accomplished, but the space was too small and some fruit trees got in the way, so that considerable wing damage resulted. The aircraft was retrieved and soon repaired by the combined efforts of Harold and Lowell Huffman.
By 1953, there was no longer much flight training at the air park. A.V. “Junior” Thrush had obtained his mechanic’s license under the GI Training Bill, and he began to take over the maintenance at Baker’s Air Park. Dave obtained a contract to fly for the West Virginia Department of Agriculture, doing forest survey work. This involved low altitude flying with an observer, while looking for diseased trees. Flying a Cessna 140, they were working an area on the east side of the Knobley Mountains on a very windy day. Getting into severe turbulence and downdrafts, they ended up in the trees, demolishing the aircraft. Dave was quite badly injured. He recuperated, but this accident signaled the end of Dave’s flying career. Finally, in February 1962, the hangar roof collapsed under an accumulation of heavy, wet snow. Junior then moved his maintenance operation to a new building near his home. Although the field remained usable for several years, no further operations were conducted there. The site was eventually sold to the state of West Virginia.
Dave Baker’s Air Park existed for about twenty-two years, and had an indelible mark on the small town of Burlington, WV. Although this small village is noted for other historical happenings and possesses noteworthy sites, the Baker Air Park is now forgotten to all but a few. As one traverses US Route 50 through Burlington, the Old Homestead Hotel can now be seen as a funeral home, but the area to the east gives little sign of its past productivity and busy business endeavors, such as an airfield. But those who have flown from the site and those who have become aviators and enjoyed the joy of flight have fond and affectionate memories of Baker’s Air Park.
Wings Over Cumberland 