A number of years ago when thinking about once again doing some stunt flying, I thought it would be prudent to brush up on my Navy aerobatic flying skills. I found a flight instructor in Madison, Indiana, who had a Super Decathlon and offered aerobatic training. The Decathlon, stressed for aerobatics, was a small aircraft that looked like an innocent Piper Cub with two tandem seats, one in front of the other. The Super Decathlon my instructor owned had a powerful engine and was designed for stunt flying. I flew down to Madison in my Cessna, then practiced aerobatics in his Decathlon.

The Experimental Aviation Association (EAA) has an International Aerobatic Club (IAC) within its organization which holds competitive events I was giving some thought to entering. There were five different categories of competition, Primary being the one I would start out in. There are different prescribed maneuvers for each category to perform, such as Cuban Eights, hammerhead stalls, Immelmann turns, loops, spins, tail slides, and snap rolls.

I was enjoying my flights with Shawn, the instructor, and found I returned quickly to the proficiency I enjoyed in the Navy. Unfortunately, because of Shawn’s insurance restrictions, I wasn’t able to solo Shawn’s airplane.  But Eagle Creek Airport in Indianapolis had a Decathlon available to rent. You weren’t supposed to do aerobatics in their plane, but after flying off solo, who would know.

The Eagle Creek Decathlon was a pretty little plane with red, white, and blue sunburst-painted wings.  A Swedish Rotary exchange student, Helen, was living with our family at that time. We decided I ought to bring the Decathlon to the Columbus airport where we would pose in front of the airplane for a Christmas picture. It would also be an opportunity to take Helen and my three sons for a ride, one at a time, demonstrating loops and rolls.

According to plan, on a Sunday, while the family was in church, I flew to Eagle Creek and brought the Decathlon back to Columbus. I arrived forty-five minutes before church let out, so I tied the plane down and went into the terminal for coffee. The airport restaurant was busy that day, and I saw a number of folks gazing out the window, admiring my colorful airplane.

When the family and Helen arrived, we all posed for pictures.

                          (L to R) Chris, Helen, Brian, & Eric

Then it was time for airplane rides. Seven-year-old Brian would be first. It’s an FAA requirement that to fly aerobatics you must wear a parachute. With all those restaurant faces pressed against the glass, I cinched young Brian into a chute and showed him how to roll out of the airplane and pull the rip cord. An interesting sight to witness, I’m sure.

We climbed into our seats and strapped into our six-point shoulder harnesses. Knowing all those restaurant folks were watching our every move, I announced, “Prop clear,” flipped the various switches, and started the engine. With the propeller spinning and the plane barking and spewing blue smoke across the ramp, it suddenly occurred to me, I had not untied the tie-downs from the wings. How embarrassing! How was I now going to shut down, unbuckle, emerge from the airplane to untie, and somehow pretend it was my normal way of doing things?

Fortunately, a young lineman, seeing the situation, ran to my rescue, undid the tie-downs and gave me a smart salute like this was our standard practice. Bless your heart, my friend!

The three boys got their airplane rides. One loop and one roll was about all the two younger stomachs could handle. But Eric, because of his previous flights with me, loved it. He wanted to try a loop on his own, and he executed it perfectly with me talking him through the procedures.

Helen was the last to go. I could tell from the worried expression on her face that she wasn’t sure she was going to like being upside down in an airplane. I said, “Helen, if you would prefer, we can go up and do a little sightseeing and not bother with the parachute and aerobatics.”

To my surprise, Helen wanted to wear that parachute. She was collecting pictures of her American Rotary experience, and this was a picture she just had to have.

Helen was an eighteen-year-old, rather well-endowed young lady. And she was wearing a skirt. The parachute had straps that came up between your legs and connected with the straps over your shoulders to a buckle across your chest. I let Mom make all the adjustments and connections. Same with the seat harness. It also had two straps that came up between your legs, and two around your waist, with two over your shoulders. When properly cinched in, you almost felt you were a part of the airplane.

After we’d climbed to six thousand feet, Helen wanted to know what I had done with the boys. I mentioned the maneuvers and their names. “What’s a Cuban Eight?” she asked.

“Well, first you do a half loop, but when inverted on top, you roll right side up and dive into another half loop, again rolling right side up. If we were trailing smoke, we would draw the number eight in the sky.”

“Ooooh, that sounds exciting. Let’s do one!”

“Okay, Helen, now when we climb in the loop, tighten your stomach. Here we go!”

Diving for airspeed, I pulled the airplane nose high, and heard a continuous squeal from the back seat. After flying onto the airplane’s back and then rolling right side up, I hesitated before the next dive, shouting, “Helen, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, keep going!”

Her squeal was not one of terror but of delight, like you hear on a roller coaster. We did two Cuban Eights. Each time we did that 3-G climb in the half loop, I heard that squeal. Helen was loving it.

“What’s that hammerhead thing you mentioned?” she asked.

“It starts like a half loop; except I hold the airplane straight up.  It feels like the plane is coming to a stop, but just before it does, I do a half roll and let the airplane’s nose fall, pointing straight down. Once we pick up speed, I pull up to level flight.”

“Oooooh, yes! Let’s do one.”

“Helen, you’re a tiger. Hold on, here we go.”

Helen wanted two of those.

Helen had flown with me before when I had taken her to a Rotary meeting in Terre Haute, but I had no idea she would enjoy aerobatics like this.

“Okay, Helen, for the last stunt, you are going to do a loop. Grab the stick; I’ll be backing you up. Just follow my instructions. Okay?”

“Oh, yes!”

“Okay, push the stick forward and pick up 180 knots. Push more … that’s it … now pull back … more pull … good. Now hold it. Look out the window, Helen, make sure we are going straight up … excellent … here we go … over the top. Look up, Helen, through the Plexiglas ceiling … watch for the ground … there it is … make sure the wings are level … okay, relax pressure on the stick … down we go. Good job, Helen! Now pull back on the stick to level flight … little more right rudder. Excellent, Helen. You did it!”

What a great day, other than my embarrassing start-up with Brian. We got our Christmas picture, the boys had their exciting airplane rides, and I was blown away by our exchange student’s enjoyment of aerobatic flying.